[NetBehaviour] Overland: Neccessary improvisation->survivableunpleasantness

Ruth Catlow ruth.catlow at furtherfield.org
Mon Sep 14 12:56:19 CEST 2009

: )))))))))))))) thanks manik (((((((((((( :

-----Original Message-----
From: manik <manik at sbb.rs>
Reply-To: manik <manik at sbb.rs>
To: ruth.catlow at furtherfield.org, NetBehaviour for networked distributed
creativity <netbehaviour at netbehaviour.org>
Subject: Re: [NetBehaviour] Overland: Neccessary
Date: Mon, 14 Sep 2009 01:01:21 +0200

"All very welcome comforts for this exhausted lone traveler."

        ----- Original Message ----- 
        From: Ruth Catlow 
        To: NetBehaviour for networked distributed creativity 
        Sent: Sunday, September 13, 2009 9:20 PM
        Subject: [NetBehaviour] Overland: Neccessary
        Overland: Neccessary improvisation->survivable unpleasantness
        Back-blogging Sunday 13th September
        (or read with links here
        http://blog.furtherfield.org/?q=node/308 )
        It's an enormous relief to be sitting on the Austrian Railjet
        train for Munich (the seats have power sockets!) after a
        thwarted attempt to enjoy myself for 8 unplanned hours in
        Budapest from 5 0' clock this morning. I've been traveling alone
        for 41 hours now and have about another 23hrs to go if we stick
        to schedule. Traveling is much harder work when you're alone;
        without another person to look out for, or to point out the
        foolishness of certain plans, or to help you make meaningful
        connections between various new experiences. Yes, I am missing
        my loved ones and especially Aileen's company!
        But lets track back.
        One feels safe traveling at speed in a sleeping compartment with
        a lock on the door even if you do start to imagine that the
        trees are alive and reaching out to slap your face through the
        open window as you pass.
        My early arrival in Budapest is not pleasant. After depositing
        my luggage I wander out into the still-dark streets which seemed
        to be populated by friendly enough, singing drunks and scary,
        barking dogs chained to lamp posts. I encounter an unlikely
        series of shops selling body building dietary supplements in
        huge tubs, some good looking lingerie, and sports trophies for
        roller-blading, wrestling and horse-riding. Eventually I
        surrender and enter a fast food restaurant (whose name must
        never be spoken) for a plastic breakfast and Internet access. I
        discovered that Budapest's media arts lab, Kitchen was just
        about within walkable distance and at about 8.30 a I set out to
        try and conjure a repeat of the serendipity of my Sophia
        experience of unplanned fun.
        I was tired, The walk was desolate. I kept going in the wrong
        direction. People seemed poor and unhappy (and drunk). Things
        seemed not to have edges where they should. The roads merged
        with building works, paving gave way to sand and gravel. When I
        got to Kitchen 50 minutes later I was met by a friendly American
        artist in residence who gave me a free catalogue. But there was
        nothing to see, (ironically I had missed their big exhibition of
        device art at Ars Electronica last week) he had things to do and
        I was even tireder and hot and sweaty and feeling pointless.
        There are no cafes in view and I wander for a long while,
        wondering whether I will make it back to the station without
        refreshments. Eventually I come to a marquee. A huge tourist
        market full of Hungarian meats, cheeses and cloths and scarfs
        and dolls and caricature American tourists impressively hungry
        for bargains. I think I should eat but all the savoury dishes
        look intimidatingly meaty and fatty so I try the pancake trick
        again, ordering something involving nuts called 'the squirrel'.
        But this time I just feel sick and woozey from all the sugar. I
        think about what would happen if I were to pass out here.
        Blah, blah! It was unpleasant but due to a kind bus driver who
        was imaginative enough to interpret my choo-choo train
        impression and forgive my lack of correct ticket, I get back to
        the station and make it onto the 13.10 Munich bound train. It
        has an electricity socket (so I can rejuice my mobile and text
        again) and air conditioning. It moves smoothly along and
        announcements inform me, in many languages including English, of
        progress towards our destination. All very welcome comforts for
        this exhausted lone traveler.
        We Won't Fly For Art!
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