HANOVER - Das Kirchentag

So, what is there to say about a large German festival which basically takes over an entire city for the best part of a week, with services, worship and bizzare drum related music wherever you go?

Well, if I keep struggling with this funky German keyboard then very little. What amuses me most is that the caps lock needs one key to start it off and another one to get rid of it. So much for German efficency... Anyho, Hanover. Its a fine city which seems to have been done no justice by the guide books who claim it doesn't have much of a central point, and other such thing. Load of rubbish, I say. True, there is an overabundance of sixties architecture, most of which is off the "lets just build something" mentality. (I recommend the several truly depressing Rauthaus models of the city which attest to the fine job the Brits did of bombing the place to oblivion to explain this) However, and perhaps this has a lot to do with four hundred thousand people descending on the place, but Hanover has carved itself out a fine identity around its several large churches around a thoroughly pleasant marketplace. And a bunch of fountains which spread water both everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

EDIT: Now back from Germany and not stifled by the uncertainties of the continental keyboard, I feel more able to expand on some of the more interesting Kirchentag type discoveries.



Quite possibly my favourite church building ever. Bombed by the Brits (sorry 'bout that), windows gone and pretty drafty. But, my goodness, do the Germans know how to take advantage of a big ruined space when they want to. Check out those window hangings.



If you read the Robbie Worship posts, you'll know that I was finding the lack of English a bit of a pain in the arse at times. So, therefore, I tended to gravitate towards and signs of my mother tounge. Bizzarely, one of the few that could be found in the main Kirchentag marketplace (the "Marketplace of Oppotunities" to be precise) were this lovely bunch of Christian bikers and their affectionate slogan, "Turn or Burn!"

It turned out that they were all absolutley charming and had some great stories to tell about travelling around German cities and sharing faith with the biker crowds. However, it has to be said that being both (A) Crazy bikers and (B) One of the only German groups speaking English in the entire place did make them unreasonably scary as well. Cutting edge evangelism. Possibly involving switchblades.



Of course, it's not only church groups at the Kirchentag. Some of them just want to take your hand in cover it in hot, coloured wax. I never got to find them (hands here provided by Rob, Simon and Charity) but I am assured that they don't just do hands. Uh huh.

Can't leave without a word for the mighty Liverpool FC. Whose sudden turn of form kept us in the pub when the complete lack of service for almost an hour would imply we should go elsewhere. If Dudek hadn't been so busy dancing in the goalmouth in Istanbul, he could have been at the Kirchentag.

Mmm... eyeballs...

So could I really go for someone's eyeballs in a life or death situation? Maybe, perhaps. But, to be honest, I think I'd be so distracted that I'd end up tugging somewhere around the nostril area. Maybe the surprise of such an attack would put them off their, y'know, murder attempt.

This weekend, as you can probably not guess from the preceeding paragraph, was orientation and general training for my travels this year. Which meant having the most excellent privilidge of meeting the dozen or so other bright young things going on similar programmes and who don't get glazed over eyes when I talk about how much I want to live in leaky tents in the middle of nowhere. And lovely they are too. (I have to say that because, of course, many of them may read this and as we cross paths over the year I'll no doubt be writing about a few of them.)

Training and stuff is, of course, immensly handy but it's always the meeting people part which I look forward to most on these type of weekends. Similarly, when you do a creative writing class: it's great to sit there and have someone talk to you about technical points, some of which will be really handy. But the high point is always getting alongside the other writers, and really getting to understand what makes them tick. When you subsequently sit down to look at their writing, you understand a whole lot more about why they've chosen to write in a certain form or why they know far too much than is healthy about knife wounds (the latter being one of the scarier conversations I've ever had with a writer)

That said, there's tons of fabulous bits of the orientation which none of us shall forget: why people really aren't interested in your Visas at one in the morning, how co-ordinated manouvering down streets can help prevent targeting from petty thieves, why sleeping with your kidnapper isn't such a great idea. And, of course, the eyeballs.

Expensive shoes

I'm not an expensive shoes kind of person. I know that they're tremendously important, can prevent all sorts of debilitating medical complaints and have been linked to the salvation of several species of small mammals, but I'm still not prepared to spend money on them.

You see, I buy shoes for the express purposes of destruction. My shoes aren't there to provide me with happy feelings. Or to give me assurance that my Gore-Tex Enviro-Breathe Special-Track is helping to keep my shoes in tip top condition. My demands for shoes are much simpler: they should be able to withstand my pavement/hill/mountain pounding for a few months. Twelve is preferable. Eight is understandable. If I haven't paid too much, I'll even accept six. This way I spend relatively little money on shoes, but I feel happy.

But yesterday was different. There I was, in the shopping centre, surrounded by all sorts of unfamiliar shoe emporiums. I was weak. I was scared. I went into one of those natty 'outdoor' centres and asked for help. They bewitched me with their Gore-Tex, their nice big boxes and their ten percent discounts. I bought expensive shoes. And now, in the cold light of day, you know what?

They are very nice.