Biathlon

I have no clue why some sports attract spectators beyond the families of the participants. Right now EuroSport (playing on the big screen in the internet cafe/pub in which I am sitting) is broadcasting some biathlon event.

On TV it is not exciting, but I can see the appeal of watching the skiers try to overtake each other in the comfort of your living room with a (large) case of beer in front of you. On TV you can see how far the various competitors are from the leader and if any challengers are gaining ground. Live though, it seems like it would be nearly impossible to notice any change in position and, thus, create a sense of drama.

It does occur to me that the thousands of people at this televised event likely have a big-screen broadcasting action out of sight. Still, you would have to be extremely dedicated to your particular skier or nation (turns out this event is a relay) to attend such an event (it does not look warm out there.)

Note, I’m not attacking biathlon as a sport, just puzzling over why it is a spectator sport (particularly when the dangerous corners seem to be away from the spectators.

As for the shooting aspect. There isn’t that much to see. Participants ski up to their rifle, unload a few shots then ski off. No blood whatsoever.

Local yokels

There is one travel rule we invoke everyday; one rule that we treasure above all others and one that kept us safe, sane and on time as we traveled across Europe: Walk like the locals.

When we say that we don’t mean ‘try and blend in with the locals,’ or ‘immitate their dress and their mannerisms’ or even ‘walk down a sidewalk like you don’t see anyone else within 50 metres of you despite the fact you are on a collision course with another couple who do seem to be moving slightly to the left but not so much as you can continue walking in your arrow straight line’ (the standard Warsaw pedestrian attitude.)

No, Walking Like The Locals generally means following, or immitating, native pedestrians attitudes towards crossing streets and tramways. Like in Canada, where the astute pedestrian will realize that you’re never going to get anywhere if you only cross when little white guy on the streetlight says it’s OK, the locals know when it’s safe to cross and when, for god’s sake, you should keep those feet planted on the sidewalk.

By Zagreb we had figured this out. At one particular traffic circle, there were no electronic crossing aids. Now most people have heard that in France, for example, cars have the right of way and will mow you over like your uncle cuts the lawn. In Zagreb, it’s the other way around. At one crosswalk we watched as, with slow, bumper-to-bumper traffic streaming by, a bicyclist nonchalantly cut perpindicular across the flow of traffic, putting his life into the hands of the motorists who did, by golly, stop for the brave guy.

In Zagreb, it became apparent, the pedestrians control the roadways and drivers are aware of that fact. If you are near a crosswalk and you look like you’re going to cross drivers will slam on their brakes. They know, I guess, that the walkers sure aren’t going to stop.

(Zagreb, it should be noted, was also the city where we watched with amusement as a pedestrian stopped nearly in the middle of the road and proceeded to take off his shoe and his sock while a driver, who apparently ran over the guys foot, stopped to inspect the damage. It was a weird echo of the traditional after-accident procedure; guy who is at fault downplays the damage while person who was hit looks for every little scratch and bump. Except this time they were looking at the guy’s toes.)

In Warsaw the pedestrian rules are remarkably like those in Canada; walk when the little electronic guy says it’s okay but, if you know the traffic pattern well enough, feel free to sprint across a road when you can clearly see no cars are coming. Beware though; U-turns are legal at some intersections and cars that look like they’re turning left may swing around to flatten you.

Signs of the times? (Pictures)

We’ve run across a number of positively hilarious signs here in Europe. Part of the reason they are so funny is probably because we can’t understand the writing under or above them. And clearly signmakers here rely on pictures here because there are so many languages spread across Europe. Either way though, they are hilarious.

This sign on the island of Brac discourages, well, you know…

This sign, found just off the main drag in Split, discourages, well, you know… (It may be sort of a promotion for a tattoo company and therefore not totally legit). Still…

I haven’t had the chance to translate the text on this sign, found in Zagreb’s less-than-impressive Botanical Gardens. Funny though

Your band is called what?!?

In Zagreb we ran across a poster for a band with what has to be one of the best names ever. Period.

Talibam!

That’s the name, exclamation mark included. What else needs to be said. Hilarious.