Showing posts with label eu. Show all posts
Showing posts with label eu. Show all posts

Friday 16 September 2016

Donald Tusk finally concedes EU's role in Brexit




European commission president Jean-Claude Juncker grabbed headlines in his 'State of the Union'  speech with carrots of internet connectivity. He promised universal 5G internet connection for all Europeans by 2020. He also laid into Britain's decision to leave the union as a result of 40 years of lies from British politicians. But it was Donald Tusk's comments that were most telling. Could it be that the EU might be ready to consider its own failings as a root cause of widespread discourse in the European project and even Brexit.


The huge backlash against Britain's decision to invoke the Lisbon treaty and retire from the bloc may still be evident but it is finally giving way to more constructive consideration of why it happened. In my humble opinion it is only in that question 'why' can any progress be made, ignoring it will doom Europe to a cycle of repeated mistakes and eventually its demise. UK may suffer as a result of its decision but did the British people make the right choice for the wrong reasons.

Donald Tusk in an interview outside the EU summit in Bratislava (that UK were not invited to) urged EU leaders to take a "sober and brutally honest" look at EU's problems. This is an attitude that has only appeared since the UK referendum. Bolstered by this brave or reckless move (depending on your view) other member states have begun in/out discussions. 

On my tour of Europe this summer, I went through 11 EU countries and saw partially closed borders and heard constant dissatisfaction with the Union. Some even expressed envy at UK's decision. 

There are huge benefits to Europe standing together on the world stage and a key role for UK in that but the European commission needs to get over itself and start serving its citizens and not its own political agendas. I'm not supporting the rise in popularism that is gaining momentum pandering to popular fears and whims. 

Let us not forget that losing the UK will have significant impact on EU. The UK was the second largest contributor to EU as well as its financial, services and technology industries. If EU doesn't look very hard and long at itself it could trip into hole that it can't get out of. 

    

Saturday 10 September 2016

My Grand Tour: Nuremberg




Nuremberg sits a way from the motorway and driving through the suburbs was as innocuous as any European conurbation, this could have been Basildon in Essex, the outskirts of Brussels, anywhere. But these suburbs nestle a dark heart. We very nearly didn't put Nuremberg on our route but i'm glad, no that's not the word, let's put it this way, had we not seen Nuremberg we would have missed another side of Europe. A side that hides in plain sight all over Europe, if not the world but Nuremberg is the home of its monument, the phantasm that is still too tangible to be called a ghost. Europe's malevolent ego, hibernating until memory is shadowed by hate, again.

Welcome to Germany
We dropped our stuff at the hotel and showered off over 500km. About 5km after the border traffic was stemmed down to a crawl for checks and a number of cars had been channelled off for inspection. We didn't tick any suspicion boxes and were waved through. These are borders that until recently simply had a sign declaring "Welcome to Germany".





Nuremberg's medieval centre was a sight but I needed to relax with a beer before we began exploring. We soon found a pavement pub. and settled in for some well-earned refreshment. The atmosphere in the pub was a little more raw than the gentile business people and tourists of Vienna. Definitely not a hipster hangout, the patrons were the young and disaffected of Nuremberg, punk by necessity not style-choice. I watched a young Muslim couple sit on a bench in the square, apart from her hijab they were no different from any teenage couple. Sitting opposite was a young German man alone with a large bottle of beer, apart from his cropped hair, no different from any other teenager. He began shouting at the couple. Despite my scant knowledge of German, I knew exactly what he was saying. The Muslim boy tried to ignore him but he wanted to be heard. He continued belligerently, waving his arms around. The Muslim boy continued to ignore but by the time the other was standing over him punctuating his words with the bottle he had no choice. They were soon standing toe to toe.



A bull skinhead with a pitbull and mutton chops bowled into the pub and sat at a table behind us. He was obviously a bit of a face as he was enthusiastically welcomed and spoke loudly. The others sat and listened as dutifully as his dog.

The boy with the beer bottle backed down and the young Muslims made to leave. The boy followed with abuse and got on his phone. The next day we learned of the knife attack on a train in Wurzburg, the next city.


Nuremberg is a magnificent medieval citadel that straddles the river Pegnitz. Much of the old architecture is well-maintained and the newer buildings are for the most part sympathetic. The castle sits up above the town commanding a picture postcard view but it is not Nuremberg castle that dominates, it is the church. St. Lorenz and St. Sebald are twin sisters and big girls they are too. The type of churches designed to put the fear of god quite literally into the townsfolk, I felt quite humbled by its huge dimensions and dark foreboding stone. As a Briton I'm just not used to such overbearing ecclesiastic architecture. I think after Henry VIII the shift went to the dominance of the crown over the church so our cathedrals are quite weedy compared to Europe's. Gothic buildings on such a scale are, well Gothic!

I could go on about the sausage shops and the cuckoo clocks, the twee little shops full of beautifully crafted souvenirs, but I won't. I will, however tell you about a conversation with a lady in one of these shops. My wife struck up a conversation with her, it was her who first informed us of the attack in Wurzburg. We introduced ourselves as being Greek and British and Brexit came up. "Good luck to you." she said. I took this defensively as an affront to the British decision, that we wouldn't make it without the Germans (and the EU). "If you pull it off and control your borders, i'll be moving there for sure!"


Inspired by this sublime example of Teutonic life and values, a certain failed Austrian artist declared it The most German city and chose it as the backdrop for his new Rome that he would build complete with Colosseum and Cathedral of light. Of course, the failed artist was Adolph Hitler and much of his Rome still stands, in stone and hearts.

The Colosseum, full of stories and lessons 
Just 10 minutes from the medieval citadel stands the Dokumentationszentrum Reichsparteitagsgelände as big and imposing as its name. I had intended to have a stroll around the grounds and get an idea of what it had been. I'd looked it up on the net and just saw some ruins, but we arrived as the museum opened and decided to go in. The museum is housed in the main building, this was to be his Colosseum. Built despite resistance from the soft ground that tried to defy support for this huge edifice. More and more forced labour was brought in to sure the footings by the Großer Dutzendteich lake. Eventually Hitler won and continued his plans.


View from the podium
The museum is a grim reminder of one of humanity's darkest hours but I couldn't help seeing it as a masterclass, it laid out the rise of the Nazis from a workers party channelling popular resistance to the terms of the treaty of Versailles to a hate for the injustice of its neighbours. Those neighbours were the British, the French and the Russians who had imposed such harsh reparations on the Germans after the Great War (the war to end all wars) but they started a little closer to home with their own neighbours who for one reason or another were a little less German than them. They whittled out the weak and the disabled then moved to the dissidents and any group who did not fit the great plan. Let us remember that the Jews were not the only group victimised and exterminated by the Nazis, it was also the Gypsies, Poles, homosexuals, anyone who was easy to hate.As a psychopath starts with domestic animals, Hitler began small.

The Cathedral of light in its heyday
The exhibition tells of how Hitler gained political power and began levying membership on the workers which he used to stage festivals and rallies. At these rallies Nuremberg was overrun with over a million visitors and he made sure there was beer for everyone. This combination of carrot, stick and common purpose is still a familiar tactic.


Once he gained momentum, he took the positions of Chancellor and President to be the supreme dictator and the carrots stopped.

Debranding
The Zeppelinplatz was his podium, now debranded, and at its height was a cathedral of light designed for over 400,000 rank and file who were integral to its architecture. A 2km road was built for parades and a monument to the fallen Germans to maintain the hate and purpose to regain German pride and place at the top table of world powers. The site would have been on the scale of the Acropolis, maybe bigger but don't get me wrong, the buildings were obviously thrown up in a hurry, their function was big-picture. Inside the Dokumentationszentrum the rough brick and concrete work shows no attention to detail. The Zepplinplatz podium is at best soviet era concrete utility. There is none of the finesse and artistry of Rome or Athens, this was broad stroke art to be seen and feared from a distance. 


Some of the buildings were destroyed after WWII and others remained unrealised but what still stands is a monument to megalomania. I pondered what should have been done with the site, should it have been razed? No, the reminder warns of what mankind is capable of. Should it be maintained? No, this would pay homage to its architects. The site sits between these two, a little dilapidated and re-purposed. The Zepplinplatz is the starting grid for the Nürnbergring race track (not to be confused with Nürburgring). The irony is that Hitler always intended it to be used as a sports centre for Aryan athletes, now it is a boating lake and football stadiums, the dream lives on. 


A private company took over Prora, a beach resort on the island of Rügen. It was to be a huge holiday resort for good Aryans but was never completed. His legacy may have tripped in the bunker in Berlin but that was not the end of anything.


See the journey so far


Friday 2 September 2016

My Grand Tour: Lost in Vienna

The rain chased us from Budapest, not that Hungary's capital loses any of its grandiosity in the rain. Far from it, its foreboding opulence is well suited to dour weather. Like London, some cities just don't look right in the sun. It's just that we had limited time and we were headed for England, we could wait for rain.


Vienna is a short drive from Budapest, 2½ hours under normal conditions, but these were not normal conditions. Hungarian roads are equal to anything in Europe but visibility was dire. The rain may well have been chasing us but we had to creep away. 

OMV time

Just outside Budapest I filled up at an OMV petrol station, my new favourite. It has reliable free WIFI and good services. Petrol was about €1.15 a litre for 98 premium. I also bought a vignette for Austria, which was €15 and only payable in cash. 

The weather was easing up but about 5km before the border traffic came to a standstill. We found out nearly an hour later that 3 lanes plus all the smart-arses cruising up the hard-shoulder to push in at the head of the queue were being bottle-necked down to one lane of border checks. Over 15km of cars squeezed down to a snail's pace as EU free movement becomes one of the first victims of the migrant crisis. We passed the old checkpoint building that may soon be getting a lick of paint and put back into hasty service. Among the traffic were hundreds of HGVs taking goods to their ultimate destination somewhere in the free trade zone, commuters as well as tourists of every nationality. I spotted every number plate from Ireland to Greece. 

As we entered Austria the first thing that struck me was their commitment to wind power, the turbines went on and on for miles. 


Vienna


Vienna was built sometime last week in baroque and classic styles then opened to the public, a huge theme park of architectural diversity all polished and daring you not to be impressed. White teethed families cycle through the streets with babies sleeping in cots mounted on stretched front ends. It's only when you get lost that the idyll of Vienna drops its veil and I got lost. 


Parking in Vienna looks difficult, everyone seemed to have a pass and everywhere needed one. Fortunately, we arrived Friday night and weekends are free. 

Not me
We wandered around the neighbourhood stumbling across the bars and clubs near a railway station. Some guys were selling from the streets, I didn't ask their business but their area of commerce was clear. We turned back toward the hotel and found an 'Irish' pub. Along with pizza and McDonald's 'Irish' pubs have gone global.

Mozart's Vienna?
The next morning we leaped out of bed to explore the home of Mozart, Beethoven, Brahms, Schubert and Strauss (I,II and III). I plotted a route to the Hundertwasser Village, a Dr. Suessian block of buildings and a welcome change from the opulence of Imperial European offerings. Of course, it was tough to avoid some grandiosity but we made our way down to the Danube sculking past the Rathaus, strolling nonchalantly round the Ringstrasse and past the Votivkirche. Ok, we failed and you will too! Vienna aims to impress and it's bloody persistent! 


Unfortunately, The Hundertwasser village is bags of wow in photos but up close you miss too much of its charm, like Dr. Suess translated into sensible. That's not to say it was a disappointment, it may not be as bonkers as the Waldspirale in Germany or on the scale of the Rogner-Bad Blumau Hotel but it is in the centre of Vienna and it really stands out but it needs to be seen from above. I'm a fan now and put him along with Gaudi's irreverence for the straight line. (Note to self: bonkers building tour) 

I bought postcards (more about them later) and we went over to the Belvedere Museum. Wow. Yes and that is about all i'll say about that as I really was becoming desensitised to Grand. Just look at the pictures.




Belvedere,Vienna




At last we settled in Karlsplatz for a cold beer. Our trip is a mission, so little to see, so much time (stop, reverse that!) and it took real determination to stop exploring and enjoy the moment. Beer helps.

As we left a couple of greebo types accosted us, i'm guessing for some change. He, heroin thin in shiny black yoga pants, her McDonalds round with her arse hanging out black jeans probably made for him. I declined and they got quite abusive. Well, this was Vienna, maybe they we great eccentric composers, or maybe not. 

That night we ate Wiener schnitzel at a pub down by the Rathaus, at last local fayre! 

The next morning we packed up before the traffic wardens hit the streets and took one last drive round Vienna before heading north-west to Nuremberg. But first supplies. On the other side of the Danube I found a supermarket to stock up on travel food but there was nowhere to park. I dropped the good lady and told her I'd wait. Some particularly vindictive looking traffic wardens homed in on me and I ran off cowardly. I got locked into one-way systems and couldn't get back. Google maps took me through some low-rent neighbourhoods with old men sitting alone on the street with bottles of beer. I swung into a road that took me straight through a park, the one with the ferris wheel. Strange, there was no other traffic but some gesticulating joggers and a small battalion of policemen cleared that one up quick enough, I smiled, apologised and hit the gas (very gently). Christ! would I never get my beloved back, left outside an Aldi for all eternity. Was this fate? I asked myself. That kinda thinking could be fatal enough if she ever found out!    



Next time: Ominous Nuremberg



Thursday 25 August 2016

My Grand Tour: The Police play an unexpected role

I've never been frightened of the police, I'm not a member of an ethnic minority group who feels targeted by the authorities. I didn't grow up in a high crime area where the police employed heavy-arm tactics to deal with wayward yoofs. On the contrary, my first brush with the law was when my mum asked a bobby to have a chat with her seven year old who had lifted a fiver from her purse to blow on sweets and matchbox cars. The police, to me, are just naturally flawed people stuck between government legislation and those chose to harm us, protect and serve. Foreign police are another deal altogether, they carry guns, they don't say 'please' and they know you are alone.


As the Bulgarian officer waved me over to the side of the road, I knew we were

in for a state sponsored shake-down. Their job is to raise money for the state through on the spot fines for and a smile for themselves by terrorising tourists. I had neither the budget nor the stomach for either.

He tapped the windscreen and started in Bulgarian then threw in the Greek words 'teli kykloforeias' (road tax). My wife pulled out the folder with the car paperwork and Handed over pieces for his perusal.

Applied arts museum, Budapest 
"No, no Bulgarian tax. Vignette," he said in English.

Shit! I had no idea we needed any tax and what was a vignette? A small film or prose? I had been told that when Bulgarian police give you a fine you can wave a €20 and amicable arrangements can be achieved but I have never bribed anyone and would not know how to offer one without evoking an insult. Then to my utter surprise he sent us on our way telling me to get one at the next petrol station. Could this be the EU in action? I hoped so but I didn't hang around to push it any further. We headed off gingerly and got one before crossing the border into Serbia, €10 worth of phew.

The border was slow and backed up but not nearly as much as the other side going into Bulgaria, the gods were on our side. It took the best part of an hour to get through the two check points but at the Serbian side one of the boot/trunk divers, those whose job it is to go through your smalls looking for contraband, spied the car's plates and shouted "Yiassou re!" a very casual Greek greeting. I returned the sentiment.

Alone and dejected. A Red Bull Air Race obstacle

We stopped just after to change up the remainder of our Bulgarian Levs to Serbian Dinar in a sweaty shed. Would we need a vignette for Serbian roads? I jumped the barrier onto the incoming queue and looked for someone to ask. The first car was Italian, the driver shrugged at my question quite apologetically, no English. Then I spotted a German car with a family. "English?"

"DEUTSCH!" came the drawn-out reply from the rotund driver without looking up from the wheel.

I tried to explain my question, tapping on the windscreen and making international gestures for money.

"DEU-TSCHE!"

So much for euro relations, I headed off to find some travellers' camaraderie.

One of the teenage girls from the German car called me back and in broken English explained that their was no vignette for Serbia. A Romanian who despite having very little English confirmed in great detail that there were no tolls until Nis then motorway began but the tolls were quite cheap.

Tolls and Rain, these are two of my favourite things!
At Belgrade we hit rain and the tolls. The rain was much harder than the €6 toll, they cheerfully took Euros. A board just before the gate showed the charges for different vehicle categories and point of entry onto the highway in both currencies. Serbia has been a candidate nation for the EU since late 2011. It still hasn't earned membership but treats European travellers well and appears to be behaving itself. The highway after Nis are great and you get a lot more for your money than in Bulgaria.

So that's Serbia, covered in 6½ hours of driving and 10 lines. We saw a bit more on the way home. Our next stop would be Budapest but first we had another border. 

The Serb side was a breeze but the Hungarians were much more difficult. The boot/trunk divers were making a show of turning out baggage and grilling drivers. We were checked by two crews who seemed to be checking each other as much as us. A rather stern woman in uniform made me open the boot then walked off, were we done? I went to close. NO! she poked at my bags, What is this? A bag. What is this? A bag... What is this? Cigarettes? alcohol? No. then she walked off again. It took one of the other uniforms to wave us on. The next just gave us a cursory check then grunted us on our way.

I bought an €11 vignette from a very glam young lady (absolutely no irony. She was dressed to kill.)... in a garden shed. They had run out of stickers so I just got a receipt. I could have got a special double with Hungarian and Austrian vignettes for €14 but the disco shed did not inspire confidence.

The greatest power in the land...and the Budapest Parliament
Now, remember my list of things that shouldn't be too cheap? Well, Budapest added another candidate, a hotel room. I had booked a room for €23 through booking.com. It looked basic but serviceable and well placed. It was very well placed. We arrived around 9pm to a dark red-light zone replete with sex toy shops and a police watch. The reception was full of desperate looking people and a fat sweaty man in string vest sitting over a pc in a box room, this was the receptionist. Ever the optimist, I decided to ask to see the room. A couple of Lithuanian bikers came out swinging their heads and rubbing their noses.

"How bad is it?" I asked.

"We will find and sleep in our sleeping bags. NOT here!"

The benefit of the doubt had gone. But where would we stay?

"Sweetheart, I booked a WHORTEL!"

So with the night getting old we had to find somewhere to stay. Police to rescue again. The wife went over to speak to the police and came back with an address. Passing, I waved a thank you to the Bobbyskis. Next thing I know they've overtaken us with blues and twos and beckoned us to follow... at speed, through red lights until we reached a decent looking hotel.

For €50 we got a very comfortable 6 floor suite without breakfast. DONE!
Budapest is basically two cities, Buda and Pest. We stayed on the Pest side. The night was vibrant and the architecture opulent if a little dilapidated. Looking up was a wonder, looking down told another story. The pavements were streaked with piss. Whether this was negligent dog walkers or pub-crawlers, I couldn't be sure but doorways were occupied by men and women clutching the by now ubiquitous family-sized beer bottle. They didn't appear to be transients, they didn't seem to have the equipment that homeless have. It may just have been their idea of a night out.

This was once one of the capitals of the Austro-Hungarian Empire and It is well-worth seeing. Many of the buildings are Gothic or Neo-Gothic style and very grand in scale, their parliament building is the third largest of its type in the world. Although a little research reveals that they are not as old as they look, mostly mid to late 19th century. 

A student's bedroom in Budapest
Budapest is teeming with Brits! This we discovered at a nice pavement bar. The next table were Brits around our age group. Down in the basement of the bar there was another table of younger Brits. The bar was very cool, decorated like a well-read student's bedroom with an excellent soundtrack. 

Finally the bar closed and after four large Urquells for €7 we went in search of some local fayre. Again fruitless. Was it us or has everyone franchised over to pizza and burgers? Local beer was easy but noone seemed interested in food. We hit McDonalds again full of Brits and assorted tourists doing the 'talk slowly and loudly' but still using their same colloquial vocabulary in hope of being understood.

Next morning the heavens opened so we snuck into the breakfast room. Busted! The camp chubby fellow who beavered around the buffet tried to tick us off his little list that we weren't on...oh dear! I resolved to settle up on check-out. Sorry, I resolved to see if I could side-step settling up on check-out. The wife ratted me out as I tried to shush her. The receptionist tried to rush me €19 and I took it out on her, I had nearly 6000km and a lifetime to go with the wife, the receptionist would soon be a stranger. We settled on €10 and left.

We met a couple from Germany who had travelled down by train. While we were outside in the pelting rain under a half-roof having a cigarette. I introduced myself as British and asked the man about Brexit.

He laughed, "How stupid! How will you travel now? Better you stay and Greeks leave!" My wife introduced herself. He said sorry.     

Budapest was hosting the Red Bull Air Race that weekend and we went down to the banks of the Danube to watch the action but the rain and wind had other plans. It was cancelled. 

Watch my Budapest moustache tour



Part 2:

                                                     


By around 3pm, the rain was not letting up. I turned to the wife in the car while eating scenic sandwiches and asked, "Shall we go to Austria?"

Goodbye Budapest, we'll be back.

Sunday 21 August 2016

My Grand Tour: Into the Eastern Bloc

Shopping for Freedom
Just a Brit, a Greek and a French car heading north. We hadn't booked anything, the route was advisory and we had only owned the car for a week. Oh, and I'd forgotten what 3000km really means. The missus and I had reached middle-age but were more than willing to put that all behind us. Something told me we were being pretty reckless and it was about bloody time.

We were sans enfants for the first time since, well since I lied about being happy with just a cuddle on the sofa. The kids had been packaged off to Britain with Grandma. Just a couple of teenagers with wrinkles instead of acne bowling off to the Bulgarian border and way beyond our comfort zone.

This wasn't my first venture into the ex-eastern bloc Balkans. Back in the early nineties me and a bunch of assorted Europeans ran the gauntlet of Yugoslavia just before the bombs started to fall. Banknotes were exchanged and the guy at the window scrubbed out the last three zeroes with a marker to show their new value. We only stopped for a cup of warm mud on the road while half of us guarded the cars. Some years later me and the missus took a trip up the Adriatic to Venice, a firework display of rockets from the coast added ambience to our romantic weekend; the Kosovan war was in full swing and the Slavs were bombing the hell out of each other. I recently went to the Serbian town of Leskovac to speak about innovation in education at a public school. The town was still pock-marked with bullet holes and its razed industrial zone was acres of bombed-out twisted scrap metal. I spoke to a teacher there about what they'd been through, Tito's communism, Slobodan Milošević, civil war, ethnic cleansing and now the euro-zone economic crisis. His reply will remain with me forever, "Things now, David are shit... which is a major improvement." There was no hyperbole, no drama, it was simple fact.

A Truss in Sofia
Bulgaria is now a member of the EU but a long way off joining the single currency (maybe a blessing). In 2013, I went to Sofia where I met David Rothschild and other business innovators at DIGITALK. I visited a start-up incubator that was far advanced of anything in Greece. Bulgaria had only ever been a suburb of the Soviet Union but it was obvious to me that it was keen to join the west and put its days in the shadow of the iron curtain in the past.


Sveta Nedelya Cathedral
My wife is very fastidious about paperwork and she had the car's history, insurance and green card ready for inspection. The border guard simply asked for our passports and waved us into no man's land, the 500 metre gap between the Greek and Bulgarian check points. A few months before, according to the press, the Bulgarians had threatened to fence the border to keep out refugees but all we saw was a deeply rutted road and a shiny little Duty Free shop. We took a selfie and wee break and ploughed on.

Bulgaria welcomed us with a single lane country road peppered with 50kmh (31mph) speed limits and the threat of radar traps. I kept a light foot on the peddle and a vigilant eye on every corner, I had heard too many tales of police shake-downs and even fake police blocks to relax.

We stopped for breakfast in Sandanski, a pleasant little shopping town popular with Greeks for its fake designer wear and cheap cigarettes.

A few km before Sofia the road opened to a wide modern highway with 120kmh limits. The road network seems to be building out, slowly, from Sofia and it was good to put my foot down and cut the breeze, I was finally starting to relax.

Sofia is surrounded by grim blocks of soviet era housing but as you enter the centre the Former Communist Party building looms and the cars rumble on cobbled streets, Sofia is unexpectedly impressive. We parked up next to a British-plated Jaguar opposite the Bulgarian assembly and headed through the park for wifi to book our first night's stay.

Hotel Bon Bon was the type of place you check the rooms before committing to anything and €32 a night was no quality seal but it was great. A big attic room with two big double beds and a balcony. I paid an extra €5 for guarded parking, which was a fenced-off corner of scrub land with a couple of guys armed with 2-litre beer bottles and began to explore.

The 2-litre beer bottle appeared to be the accessory de rigueur. Just imagine those huge Coke bottles... with beer! I later found out that they also came in  2.5 litre and cost between €2-3 depending on quality. I never had the gaul to buy one, I have a list of things that shouldn't be TOO CHEAP and on that (short) list is booze and ladies. I chose instead to take in the ambience at a pavement bar with reasonably priced draught beer and my most exorbitant wife.

Eventually, hunger set in and we began a very fruitless quest for locale fayre, pizza, spaghetti, burgers and Greek food was abundant but nothing that looked local so we headed back to a place we had spied earlier. The proprietor of the empty Chinese restaurant almost fell off his chair when we sat down and summoned a menu, This would not be our last Balkan Chinese meal as we made a pact not to eat pizza anywhere but Italy, a pact that was broken twice and very pleasantly. We avoided seafood dishes and were not disappointed, the next morning would be the acid test.

Next morning, our stomachs were unaffected, result! and I booked our next stop in Budapest through Booking.com, €23 (I later revised my list of things that shouldn't be too cheap to include hotels!). We took breakfast in the Hotel's Hawaiian beach-scape themed basement. The car awaited unmolested and protected by the same two men re-armed with more beer and we hit the road.

Sofia's highway network soon gave out to a single lane speed trap. We had over 800km to Budapest and 50-90kmh was not going to cut it. I pushed as hard as I dare but less than 100km from the Hungarian border I spotted a couple of uniforms and they were not waving.

Next: The Police play an unexpected role and a Grand 'Tache tour

Friday 12 December 2014

Why Austerity IS Working


Ok, let’s start with a revelation. Austerity doesn’t work, that’s a no-brainer. Economists have been saying this for centuries and anyone living at the thin edge of the wedge in Europe will be living its failure. Incomes have been slashed, debts become unmanageable and few see any sign of improvement on the horizon. The amount of people without any health insurance is at an unprecedented high and the government telling us the same old story.


We must help bail out an economy that we were complicit in scuppering. 

Twitshot
retail wrecklessness
Oh! those heady days
Austerity purports to tackle the world recession caused by credit-happy shoppers like you and me consuming beyond our means. It is sold on the micro-economic understanding that if a household cuts spending on non-essentials for a while it can pay off its debts thus reducing expenditure and bring its outgoings below income. It is the credit-binge hangover that we are told we all need to take responsibility for. The belief is that by cutting back on the state’s expenditure and increasing taxation they will be able to wrestle the public debt back to a manageable level where we can all breathe a sigh of relief and get back to business as usual. This is not happening. The lack of investment is causing widespread unemployment and even more widespread underemployment. This in turn, is making it more difficult for the government to collect taxes while simultaneously putting increased pressure on social benefit systems. The result is that while we are paying and suffering for our sins.


That said, unless you have had your TV repossessed and your Internet cut, we all know that that is just a tiny piece of the story. Due to systematic deregulation of the markets by governments giving more power over sovereign currencies than the national banks themselves, they went ape-shit inventing new and more toxic ways to make profit from the movement of capital (read debt). Their abuse of their new-found freedom with currencies made them a systemic risk to national economies and thus “too big to fail”. And so, their private debts, far larger than any kitchen refit or big-screen TV have been transferred to the public balance sheet. However, yet again we are reminded that these same banks loaned us money and helped us buy our beautiful houses that cost more than we could earn in ten years plus interest. So, once again we are complicit. Incidentally, these houses could not have reached such prices were it not for the freely available credit in the market. We are also told that if we did let these banks loose, we would be in the middle of a zombie apocalypse and would die a horrible death. Tell that to the Icelanders.  

Maybe we are all looking at the problem from the wrong angle. 

Let’s consider firstly that this strategy was not implemented by my mum, it was devised by some of the most proficient macro-economists on the planet with access to the studies of the greatest economists of history from Adam Smith through Locke to Keynes and Hayek. They also had great social experiments such as Soviet Russia, Hitler’s Germany, New Deal USA, Thatcher’s Britain and more recently Iceland. In fact, to give any credence to the “Ooops!” factor would be to believe that the people running the world economy are less competent than my Mum when baking a pie. No, austerity is working if you consider that

Its goals may have very little to do with relieving public debt. 

The economy at the centre of the euro-zone and one of the main architects of the current austerity strategy, the German has become strong due to exports. It has learnt that you become powerful by making stuff and selling it to the world. It was busy during the credit-binge selling the world and those naughty Greeks Mercedes, BMWs and Volkswagens, helping them to get in debt. It has worked hard to build a reputation for reliability and prestige and most of us will make a b-line for a German product from stationary to power-tools to supercars, given the choice. But, on the world stage they cannot support the whole of the euro-zone with their premium commodities. They have diversified, buying Skoda and other budget brands but this is not enough. If the EU is to be successful in the world economy. 

It needs to make impact in the mass consumptions markets. 

Depression
Discount dignity
In order for the Euro-zone to compete with the huge production centres of China, India and the Far East, they need one more element. Traditionally, in order for a nation to increase the mass saleability of its exports it has devalued its currency making its products cheaper and more attractive. This is not so easy in the Euro-zone, not to mention the fact that when one currency does it so do others igniting a currency war with all currencies finding a similar equilibrium to where it started. There is one other factor which will allow this relative price index for exports; cheap labour. And it is here that austerity is doing the business. The highly educated, highly skilled workforce of Europe is now on sale. But in order to truly compete they will have to get a little cheaper. 

Austerity is working. 

It is producing a more cost-effective workforce by lowering the expectations of this and generations to come.  This is not a conspiracy theory, it is a business plan. My conclusions are based on the evidence that we are living and take into consideration the business model of the central economy of the Eurozone. If it was a company, it would need to position its product line in the open market. Seeing as the premium market is not large enough to support the 350 million people of the EU, it would definitely need to reposition, at least some of is portfolio to high-volume markets.  

In my next article I'll explore the next step of a strategy that could put Europe back at the centre of world production and how the current fall in oil prices could be the lever to expand the Eurozone.
       
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Thursday 29 September 2011

WHAT DO WE WANT?...


It's a little after 10 o'clock but these secondary school children will be having no lessons today. They are striking, not for better pay and conditions, not to show their solidarity against the austerity measures imposed on their country, they are striking because they have no books for their classes.


Wednesday 21 September 2011

He's not the father of modern wisdom, he's a very naughty boy!


More and more, Greece is being vilified as the enemy of European unity, the weakest link in an otherwise world-class currency and caricatured as lazy and feckless. This wave of enmity is beginning to serve but one purpose, lining the fingers up in one direction. While Europe points in one unified direction they can avert the scorn from themselves.


The Greek people are not lazy or, indeed, feckless. Yes, they do like their afternoon nap but they will then return to work until 9 or 10 in the evening. They are as hard-working as anyone in Europe, go on have a look round your office or place of work now, how many are skivers? What are you doing? Reading my blog that's what! As for feckless, well they managed to pull the wool over Brussels' eyes, didn't they?

I spoke to a friend yesterday who told me of his chronic insomnia, "How can you sleep with all this going on?" thing is, this isn't the first person who has told me this. Since I started haunting my own house I have discovered that I'm far from alone.  

It is a convenient oversimplification to say that Greece is bringing down the Euro, it was a flawed plan from the beginning, synchronising such diverse economic strategies was always going to be a tough challenge. It is not Greek laziness or fecklessness that is at the root of an economic avalanche that could, possibly, destabilise even the Dollar. Let us remember that Lehman Bros was brought down by some of the smartest suits in Wall street, Iceland was bankrupt without a siesta or a moustache in sight. 

The clever suits' austerity measures are not working and the same people are telling us that we have to bite down a bit  harder. 

There is no more faith and precious little hope, all we see at the end of the tunnel is a toll. The managers aren't managing but we've all known that for ages. 

Greece doesn't need any more lessons, it needs someone who can teach!   





Some of you who regularly look me up will have notice that I've been a bit lax, well, I'm back. 
Come back soon to find out the fate of our own feckless revolutionary, will he finally take office or is he doomed to wear football gloves in the prison showers.    


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