| プロフィールFrom inside Sloveniaフォトブログリスト |  ツール  ヘルプ |
|
|
2月2日 SANDWICHESFirst of all, let me apologise for my absence of late. I have recently taken on a second job, one that is rather more enjoyable than my primary job of trying to teach English to the people of Slovenia. Juggling 2 jobs takes a lot of my time, hence I won't be as regular on here as I once was.
The point that I want to raise today is 'Why is it not possible to find a good, affordable sandwich place in Ljubljana?' When I say affordable, what I mean is someone that isn't Subway. It's annoying. Let me give you the situation; You've just been working for 5 hours non-stop, and now finally the lunch-break has made it's more-than-welcome appearance. You've got 45 minutes to energise yourself before being thrown back into the mundaneness of the job. What could be better than a huge, filled, massive, giant, humongus (How do you spell that????), ginormous (does that word actually exist? I don't know. But i teach it to my students anyway) baguette? Answer; Nothing legal. Where can I get one? Italy or Austria. Ljubljana? You've got 2 hopes! Why is the situation so bad? Why doesn't someone open up a little shop that sells huge, filled, massive, giant, humongus (How do you spell that????), ginormous (does that word actually exist? I don't know. But i teach it to my students anyway) baguettes? Lightbulb above head moment. I will open up that little shop. I've even thought of a name for it; The little shop that sells huge, filled, massive, giant, humongus (How do you spell that????), ginormous (does that word actually exist? I don't know. But i teach it to my students anyway) baguettes! Would I get any customers? Would I make a profit? Would Business Weekly do an expose on me? Would Subway attempt buy me out? Would Subway be so annoyed at my refusal to sell that they burn down my place? What's that you say? I need money to start up a business? Back to the drawing board. I'm off to pay a fortune now for a footlong from Subway, all this talk of sandwiches and business has made me hungry.
1月26日 AustriaI just got back yesterday evening from 3 days working in Klagenfurt, Austria. I learned many things from this experience. The first thing wasn't something new to me, rather something emphasised. Customer service in Slovenia does not exist! My train was due to leave Ljubljana for Villach at 8.05 Monday morning. People who know me all said the same thing, "Kris, make sure you wake up early, get to the station early, buy your ticket early, and you will have no problem."
So, that's what I did. At 7.55 I took my seat on the train, in a compartment all to myself, pulled a book out of my bag and started reading. Outside the window was the board telling me that this was the train for Villach due to leave at 8.05.
Come 8.10 and I'm still sitting in Ljubljana station, wondering what the delay is. Then I checked the board outside the window and it was now blank. What the hell? I go to find out what's going on, and realise that the long train that I had originally got on is now a lot shorter than before. Why? Because half of the original train is now on it's way to Austria! I see the train guard who has walked past my window at least four times why he didn't think to tell me that I was in the wrong part of the train. He shrugs his shoulders and smiles. Why am I not ammused.
I need my money back then. If I'm not going to be able to make it there in time for work, then what good is the ticket to me?
At the ticket desk: "Money back, now."
"No can do."
"Why not? I don't need this ticket because your system has just shagged me up the arse and left me here to pick up the pieces."
"You can use the ticket any time over the next 6 days. The next train leaves at 10.10."
"But I'll take the bus. Give me my money."
"No."
"Pizda mater! bye bye." Exit from stage angry English man.
My work here calls the place of work there, tells them I'll be late, fine, no problem, I take the 10.10 train.
Get to Klagenfurt, realise that 2 out of 3 men have moustaches. I thought that was just a comedy stereotype, I was wrong! Not just moustaches, also mullets are in full swing. Wahey, let the good times roll. Why is that? Do they not have mirrors in this country? You look ridiculous!!!!!! Whatever.
Ask the taxi driver to take me to Bahnhofstrasse. He points to a street and says "yea right. The street is there, you don't need a cab."
Cool. 45 minutes later and I reach the end of the street where my work is situated. Don't need a cab? My arse.
Work all day. Go to the hotel that they have booked for me.
"I'd like to check in please. It's reserved under the name Berlitz."
"I'm sorry sir, we don't have any reservation."
"Great! Call this number please." Kris gives number of Berlitz to receptionist.
An agreement is reached which leaves me taking the last free room in the building, a suite. I'm definitely not complaining. I call girlfriend in Slovenia, put the bill on to Berlitz, then decide I need to go drinking to see the town.
1.30am, should go back to hotel now, gotta wake up early in morning. Where is the hotel???
2.30am... still looking for hotel.
3.00am... still looking.
3.15am, can't open the door to the hotel, my card isn't working properly.
3.25am, manage to get the door open.
8.30am eating brakfast. Good!
8.45am stil eating.
8.55am waiting for receptionist to finish social phone call so that I can check out.
8.59am running to work, start at 9!
It went on pretty much like this for the rest of the time there, until finally I returned to Slovenian soil. I have to say, I actually miss the mullets and moustaches. They were always good for a laugh! I can't wait to go back to Austria!
   Some good-looking Austrian boys. 1月18日 Farewell, my friend. 2006 is the farewell year for the Slovenian Tolar, the currency that has been in use since not too long after the declaration of independence.
I, for one, will be very sad to see the back of it and perhaps even sadder to see the Euro introduced. Why? Because when you give up your national currency to Brussels, you also give up another part of your identity. The Slovenian struggle lasted for well over 1000 years before they were able to have such usually-taken-for-granted things as their own currency, their own sovereignty, their own government, own armed forces, and everything else that comes with being a recognised, independent, country.
Then just 16 years later that currency is put to bed, and in comes the all-conquering Euro.
We've seen from the experiences from countries that have already taken this step that it means higher prices and lower wages. But, the real truth is that I'm not too interested in the practical side of things, I'm purely a traditionalist or an old sentimentalist, or whatever else you want to call it, and I hate to see this symbol of the country of Slovenia being taken away.
Another reason that I love the Tolar so much is because as a result of having to deal on a daily basis with sums of money that are in the thousands, and even the hundreds of thousands for not too expensive things like rent and the like, my mental arithmetic has become second-to-none! I am now a mathematical genius when it comes to simple equations, as is everybody else living in Slovenia. Tolar, I thank you for this.
At least for the time being, I don't have to worry about England going over into this horrible currency, but how much longer will this pleasure last?
A bit more reading;
 1月5日 Queuing in Slovenia... Survival of the fittest! "You gotta be tough." These are the words that you will hear from any honest Slovenian advising you on how best to get through the ordeal that is shopping in busy supermarkets here in Slovenia. Let me explain.
Coming from England, home of the polite, orderly, queue, it is quite understandable that I would find things here a little difficult to comprehend. You're in your local Tesco's picking up the bread and milk and whatever else your mum, wife, or girlfriend has asked you to bring home. There are only a few checkouts open, yet it's starting to get pretty busy and you find yourself standing third in a queue of 6. The slightly forced smile still sits on your face, you hum along to the music playing in your head that just won't go away since you heard it on the car radio a few minutes ago, and all around there is an air of pleasantness, albeit a slightly forced one.
Things take a turn for the better when you see that the checkout next to the one for which you are queuing is being slowly occupied by a student worker. "This is nice." You say to yourself. "The guy in front of me has already got all of his shopping down on the conveyor belt, so I guess I can go first onto the newly opened checkout."
"Next please." Calls over the student worker, gesturing with a raising of her eyebrows for you to move your stuff over to her.
"Hold on!" You cry. "What do you think you're doing?"
The three people who were just queuing behind you have gone into a free-for-all no-holds-barred frenzy to secure a better position in the new queue. The person who was fifth in the queue is now having his shopping scanned through, the person who was sixth is now in second, despite the fact that he is nursing his grazed ankle, caused by the other guy's trolley wheel during the battle for prime position. The person who was one place behind you in fourth position has only managed to make it into third position on the new line, and whilst you have been standing there in shock, four other shoppers have moved violently ahead of you in the original queue. What's more, nobody else has batted an eyelid as another normal day at the supermarket unfolds.
"Where are we?" I hear you cry. "Is this a horrible premonition of England 200 years in the future?"
No, this is Ljubljana, Slovenia 2006. It's not Tesco's, it's Mercator, or MaxiMarket, or maybe InterSpar. It's reality.
In Slovenia, the polite, orderly, queue does not exist. It's not just supermarkets either. Take the post office as another example.
I'll come clean, I sometimes like to make a little wager on the football. In Slovenia that doesn't mean popping down the road to your local bookies, you have to go into either a tiny little corner shop, a sports pub (not easy when you want to make your bet in the morning before work), or in the post office.
You queue in the post office, wait nicely while the little old lady in front turns up her hearing aid to full volume to be able to hear and participate in the argument over why her she has to pay a commission on her electricity bill (bills are also paid in the post office). She finally leaves, disgruntled. You get to the counter, start the interaction with the employee, then an unshaven, just-out-of-bed-look man of Serbian origin shoulders you out of the way, leans across the counter and asks the worker for some stamps. Worst of all; She serves him!!! This is normal for her.
It's survival of the fittest here, the weak get trampled, go hungry, and definitely don't win any money on the football.
Needless to say, I've started pumping the iron. I'm feeling fine and I'm ready for war.
Right, I'm off to get some bread. If you don't see any post from me tomorrow, please inform my family.
1月2日 stupid is as stupid doesIt has long been common knowledge that I'm an idiot. Further argument to back this up came last Thursday. I will fill you in;
I told you already that I spent the christmas week at home in Brighton. Well, Thursday morning I woke myself up nice and early ready to make the quick, short journey home to Ljubljana. The plan was that I would be door to door in less than 3 and a half hours.
On the journey to Brighton a week previous I had flown from Venice to Stansted to save money. No need for that pain in the arse this time as my mum had bought me a ticket from Gatwick to Ljubljana with Adria. Perfect.
My flight was due to depart at 9.40am, but on arrival at the airport at 8.30 there was no sign of my flight up on the departures screen. Maybe there's a problem due to the snow in Slovenia.
A quick check of my ticket revealed that this wasn't the case. My flight was yesterday.
Shit! What to do?? I'm short of money, I've arrived 24 hours too late for my flight, and waiting for me at home is an impatient fiance.
Talks with Adria representatives make me aware of the fact that there aren't any flights to Slovenia til tomorrow, and that one is full anyway. What can I do? I can pay 40GBP to upgrade myself to be able to go on standby for tomorrow's flight, and if no seat comes available I can go on Saturday. Not good enough.
An hour and a half later and I've been from North to South to North and back to South terminal of the airport, visiting every single ticket agent and information place trying to find a flight to any of the border countries. Austria, Italy, Croatia, and Hungary all have flights, but not one of them costs less than 300GBP. Not an option.
Eventually I find an Easyjet flight from Gatwick to Venice Marco Polo, leaving at 5.50pm and costing 110GBP. I'll take it.
The rest of the day is spent sitting in my dad's office, (he works at the airport), searching the internet to see if there are going to be any trains to Slovenia that evening. There aren't.
Any buses then? No.
Right, let's get to Venice and see what I can do.
I can't be bothered to finish the long version of this story, so I'll give you the summary.
What should have happened; Get to Gatwick at 8.30am, take-off at 9.40am, land in Ljubljana at 12.30pm and get into my front-door by 1.15pm.
Cost to credit card; 00
What actually happened; Got to Gatwick at 8.30am, saw that I missed my flight, spent the whole morning in a cold sweat trying to arrange something, found a late flight to Venice, took a train to Trst, waited in the freezing cold for father-in-law to come and pick me up in the car, got home at 1.45am Friday morning.
Time lost; 12 hours, 15 minutes.
Money lost; 110GBP plane ticket, 2.50EUR bus from airport to station, 13.00EUR train from Venice to Trst, 860SIT road toll in Slovenia.
Travelling; expensive.
Waiting all day at airport; Tiring.
Checking your plane ticket before going to the airport; PRICELESS 12月30日 I'm backRight, first off I will apologise for my absense over the last 8 days. I was home for christmas and didn't have any access to the net. Anyway, I'm finally back in snowy Ljubljana, armed with a head full of observations from the past week that i need to share with you...
I'm a tight bastard. That is why when I saw how much Adria were charging for flights from my practically on my doorstep, Ljubljana Brnik airport, to practically on the doorstep of my family home, Gatwick airport, I decided that it would be better to fly from nowhere near where I live, Venice Treviso, to nowhere near where my family home is, London Stansted, for the sake of saving a few quid.
So, last Wednesday, the 21st, I arose nice and early, carried my heavy bags full of presents down to Ljubljana train station, jumped on a 3-and-a-half-hour ride to Venice Mestre, then changed trains for one going to Treviso, then lugged everything on to a bus to take me to the airport, flew to Stansted, took a 40- minute train to Tottenham Hale, then battled to crowds on the tube to get to Victoria, then took another 40-minute train ride to Brighton, arriving home at around 10 in the evening.
Before settling in Slovenia I lived in Rome for a year, and last week I saw that one thing definitely hasn't changed amongst Italians travelling on the train. They all, yep every single one of them, stand up in a mad panic and rush to the doors in anticipation at least 10 minutes before arriving at their station. Picture in your head now that moment when the fasten seatbelt sign gets switched off and the plane has just come to a stop on the runway, it's like that moment only multiplied by 100. I mean, what do they think they are going to gain by doing this?? Are they going to get anywhere quicker? Of course not. They're all going to get stuck in the crowds trying to get out of the station anyway. It's ridiculous, and it's something that makes me laugh every time i have to take a train on the peninsula. What's even funnier is the way they look at me. "Look at the Englishman still sitting there reading. He obviously doesn't know that the station is coming up."
Something else that I already knew deep down but that was re-enforced in my mind this past week. The young people of England are embarrasingly stupid. I mean real idiots. I'm not talking about everyone here, of course there are others who find these people just as stupid because they themselves have a bit of sense. I may joke about travelling on the train in Italy, but taking a bus or train in England is no laughing matter, simply because listening to the conversations that are banging out from every direction is not funny, it's sad. Sad because you realise that they don't even have the faintest idea how fucking stupid they are. Sorry to swear, but this is something I feel strongly about. The only solution is mass sterilisation to make stop these imbecils from breeding. A perfect example of what I'm talking about can be watched at http://www.fat-pie.com/chavs.htm This guy is far from being a one-off.
Makes the diamond ear-ring wearing, tracksuit-clad Čefur seem half decent.
Staying on the topic of England. Fat girls. There are too many. Why? Too many kebabs and no exercise. I'm not just saying this, but there really aren't anywhere near as many fat young blokes as there are fat young women. Say no more on that.
Some good things from the week away; First of all, the prices of things. That's right, prices are better in England than here in Slovenia. I don't care what anyone says, here in Slovenia we pay far too much for dvds, cds, books, food, clothes, and almost everything else. The only things I can think of that are cheaper here are bus travel, train travel, and pints. There just aren't enough sales, because there just aren't enough shops to have to compete with eachother on such a big scale.
Another good thing that I am sad to have left back in England. The food.
Again, I don't care what anyone says about English food, it's the dog's bollocks.(That's a good thing).
I know that our food has a terrible reputation, but unless you've lived there or stayed there for a while and experienced it properly, not just some dodgy made-for-tourist fish and chips sold to you by a Chinese man, you don't know the true beauty of English food.
I've got plenty more things to tickle your reading tastebuds with over the next few posts, but for now I'll sign off. Probably won't be back again for a few days due to the New Year and stuff like that. But trust me, as of the start of January, normal service will be resumed.
Meanwhile, I let you enjoy this picture from where I grew up. 12月19日 What I love about Slovenia
What is the greatest thing about living in Slovenia? That is my question of the day, and now I will give you my personal answer. Feel free to agree or disagree.
For me, the greatest thing about living in Slovenia is The Horse Burger. A big slab of horse meat, stuck in a huge breadroll, then joined by an appetizing number of extras; Lettuce, Chillis, Tomato, pickled cabbage, nacho cheese, onion, ketchup, ajvar, mustard, tobasco. It really is a proper treat. I don't know about the rest of Slovenia, but here in Ljubljana there is one company leading the way in the production and sale of the horseburger, and that is Hot Horse. There are two things in particular that I love about this company other than the sheer deliciousness of the food. The first is the cartoon character that they use as their mascot, not very subtle, a big horse, check the website if you haven't seen him before. The second thing that I love is the location of one of the outlets. Inside Tivoli park, just a 2 minute walk from another one of my favourite places in Ljubljana, Lepa Žoga pub, that's the place where you can watch football streamed live from every corner of the globe via a million and one different satelite systems, and where you can also bet on the outcome of those matches. So, on any given Sunday afternoon, after watching the first 45 minutes of the match of your choice, and filling yourself up with the malt beverage, you can nip along the path and pick up the ultimate in half-time snacks.
I know that many of my English readers will be at this very moment shaking their heads in disbelief at the thought of eating a horse in a burger. A cute, intelligent, wonderful creature, the horse. When my mum was over on a visit you couldn't have paid her a million dollars to eat one, and I even took a very hard whack over the head just for having the audacity to eat one in front of her. Needless to say she was not amused. Over at www.carniola.org there is a category entitled 'Things you probably you won't see in the U.S.' Well, I can guarantee you 100% that you will not find a horseburger outlet in England. People have been slaughtered for less.
That brings me on to my game of the day; Try and get an English person (More difficult and hence worthy of more points if that person happens to be of the femal sex), to eat a horse burger. It's not as easy as it sounds.
It took me more than 4 months to be able to bring myself to eat that first burger, but since then there has been no looking back. Let me make a quick comparison for you... A horse and a cow. Both farm animals, both produce good-tasting meat, one loses you vast amounts of money at the races, and the other runs the risk of infecting you with Mad Cow Disease if you eat him. Still not sure which one you want to eat?
Thought not. One look at the above photo should put aside any doubts.
God bless the horse burger! 12月16日 Slovenian studentsToday, rather than bring you some nice little picture of Ljubljana, I've decided to share a few of my opinions on the topic of students in Slovenia.
I don't like them.
Why? Because every single one of them is convinced that the world owes him/her a living, and not just a living, but a bloody good living.
Slovene students were up-in-arms recently at the idea that soon they might have to start paying for their university education. "It's not fair!" They shouted. Why is it not fair? University is a service that will benefit you for the rest of your life, a service like any other. Why should it be a god-given gift?
What happens when these rumblings of discontent happen? I'll tell you; The leaders of the student unions, 45 year-old losers who can't be bothered to go into the real world and would rather just bum around as a student for the rest of eternity start shaking up the rest of the student population, who let's face it aren't exactly difficult to excite, and cause problems and disruptions that just piss off everybody else. Let's be honest here for a minute, who wouldn't want to be a student in Slovenia? They live a luxurious life. Food tokens for next to nothing, bus passes for next to nothing, they can easily find student work through the various studentski servis organisations, everything, and I mean everything, is discounted for them.
What happens next? Everybody comes out of uni with their degree but is still not in an advantageous position to find good work because everyone else of the same age has also just come out of uni with a degree! They are all in the same boat.
In England where you have to pay for your university education, at least when you come out of it you have something that does separate you from a big percentage of people of your age. A degree in England still demands some kind of respect, it shows that you have battled the harsh financial conditions, eaten a diet consisting of just bread and baked beans for four years, are in debt up to your eyeballs from all the loans you had to take to get where you are now, and now you are ready to go and start making tea for someone until eventually you work your way up and are in a position to have the tea made for you, by which time you are ready to be in a managerial position because you have seen how the company works right from the bottom to the top. Now I'll tell you how this contrasts to Slovenia.
When I'm not writing on this webpage I am at my day job, a job that brings me into contact every single day with many different Slovenes. I have become sick and tired of how many times during these interactions the following dialogue takes place;
Me: "So, what do you do?"
Slo: "Oh, I'm graduated from university."
Me: "Right, ok. How long since you finished."
Slo: "Quite a long time actually."
Me: "And you're not working yet?"
Slo: "No, unfortunately there aren't any jobs that are right for my qualifications at the moment." (Said with a sigh in order to receive sympathy.)
Me: "What do you mean? There are plenty of jobs out there."
Slo: "Yea, but I'm waiting for the right one to come along. You know, a managerial position."
Me: "What?!? You're a spotty kid with the street sense of a goldfish, what makes you think you can just walk into a company and demand a managerial position? You grubby little toe-rag."
Slo: "Well I didn't go to university for four years to go and make tea for someone else all day."
Me: "Right you are. And how do you support yourself in the meantime?"
Slo: "Oh, my mummy and daddy make sure that I get what I need."
Me: "There's the door, this conversation is over."
Now, maybe I should just accept that in different countries things are different, and if this is how it works in Slovenia then I should just accept it and if it bothers me so much I should leave. No!
The sooner the government here brings in fees for going to university, the better. Then and only then will the people who want to study to better themselves be separated from those who are just along for the free ride. Slovenian students wake up! Nobody owes you a living, you want it you gotta go out and work for it. Because if you don't, a few years from now when the system has changed, and believe me it will, you will have the choice of not eating or going out to do the kind of jobs that you take great pride in telling everybody are only for Čefurs.
|
|
|
