Entry 209 : A Month In Europe - [PART 3] My Major Meltdown, My German Name and My Adventure with Roberto
This entry is PART 3 in my A Month In Europe series. If you haven't, check out PART 2(5) here.
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Hallo!
It was Friday, the last day in Giessen and the first day of my "explore-the-rest-of-Europe-before-going-back" trip. I had returned the keys to my dorm room very early in the morning and brought all my stuff to the office to do some work before leaving Giessen.
I went to sleep the night before feeling pretty burnt-out. Like, my intense four-week research attachment was about to end and I had fallen into a steady routine living in Giessen. And every time I fall into a routine I begin to feel comfortable, but that feeling of comfort immediately manifests into a sense of boredom and dullness.
Just the same damn view every day
I felt so exhausted and so ready to just get on a plane and head straight back to Malaysia. I used to daydream about travelling to see the world, to venture around Europe and to take all these amazing photos that I see on the internet. All that lust for adventure was stripped away by sheer stress and exhaustion.
Most people have the wrong idea about people whose work require more mental strength than physical strength. They think that we go to work in the morning, sit around reading stuff or typing stuff and then go home without a care in the world. It's totally the opposite!
Research isn't a 9-5 thing. I am never not thinking about my research. I am never not worried about my next deadline, my next meeting with my supervisor, my next presentation and my next conference. I have to constantly think of ways to solve problems that I've created myself to solve problems that others couldn't solve. I go to bed restless because of my guilt for not doing more during the day to progress with my research and I wake up being only motivated by the short relief I'd have if I get something done that day. Working with people with such a high intensity in discussion and high level of thinking drained me even more and all that accumulated to me just wanting to leave everything and go home to bed.
While I was in the office that Friday morning, I thought to myself,
"Well, at least I'm on my way back now."I thought that my worries would stop once I get to Frankfurt, Brussels, Paris and Abu Dhabi. I still had two papers to finish up on my way back but it wasn't much to do. I began to feel a little relaxed... until I got an e-mail.
Hmm...
At first I thought it was some sort of advertisement but then I checked the subject again and it had the date and number of my train. I was starting to have bad thoughts and I immediately recalled the story my supervisor told me of her flight being delayed due to a strike in Paris.
Could history be repeating itself?!
I copied everything into Google Translate and I got this:
Dear Client,. . .
Planning to travel with SNCF on 05.30.2016 on the TGV 9828 from BRUSSELS MIDI to AIRPORT CDG 2 TGV.
We inform you that due to an unexpected strike in Belgium, the circulation of your TGV 9828 may be disturbed.
To check the status of real-time traffic, visit horaires.sncf.com or mobile station.
SNCF thank you for your understanding.
. . .
. . .
WHAT?! WHAT?! WHAT?!
I couldn't believe my eyes. I searched "Belgium strike" in Google and a few headlines confirmed my fears: There was indeed a strike going on and my train was cancelled.
I spent the next hour just holding back tears and trying not to break into a hissyfit. I immediately texted my parents and asked them what I should do. They were like, "Yeah so book another train". I told my supervisor what happened and she was just "History repeats itself /face with tears emoji/". Literally nobody was feeling my pain! What's more, my cousin Nana suddenly said she was heading to Europe but when I asked her and my other cousins where she was going, everyone was just "You'll see /smirking face emoji/".
WHAT THE ACTUAL F?! I AM LITERALLY ABOUT TO PASS OUT DUE TO ANXIETY AND YOU'RE NOT EVEN HELPING!
/LOUDLY CRYING FACE EMOJI/
It took me some time to calm down and think of my next step. After checking some train schedules and places to stay in Paris, I decided that I would burn the deposit on my Brussels hostel booking and head straight down to Paris, which made my stay in Paris four nights instead of just two.
Now most people would be delighted to stay so long in Paris but I was just about to book the next flight back to Malaysia honestly because I didn't want to deal with everything anymore. I booked my new accommodation, booked my train ride to Paris and then just sat in my chair for a few hours before I gathered enough strength to get my butt out the door and on the train to Frankfurt.
I got to Frankfurt around 4.30PM. The hostel that I was staying at that night was literally just 5 minutes away from the Hauptbahnhof and it was really, really cool.
Snazzy little elevator that goes up to the lobby
So close to the train station!
View from the lobby
No smoking on the balcony before 8PM!
I really liked the hostel. It was clean and had all the amenities that I needed. I stayed in a 10-person mixed bedroom that had its own bathroom, which was adequate. I had linen and bought a towel for 2 Euros, I think. I left my stuff in the room and decided to - yes, you guessed it - take a walk to ease my mind of all the problems that morning had presented me.
Walking in Frankfurt for the second and third time actually brought me new sights. I noticed more restaurants and cafes, more landmarks and actually took the time to do some window shopping. I revisited Romerberg and bought some more souvenirs for the people back home, went into the cathedral near there and felt a rekindling feel for street photography.
I got back to the hostel around 8PM and chilled out at the lobby to use the WiFi. There were a lot of people waiting in the lobby because the hostel actually gives out free dinner! Every day, if you sign up for free dinner, you get to have pasta at 8PM. I didn't sign up because I wanted to eat at this place my dad recommended called Alims Fisch.
As I was on my phone, minding my own business, somebody needed a place to sit and he asked if he could sit at the table with me. Of course I didn't mind and he had his pasta while I was still just replying texts and scrolling through Twitter.
I'm not sure how, but we suddenly started talking. I think I asked some typical question, like, "How's the pasta?" to which he replied, "Normal, nothing special". "Well," I said, "it is free food so we really can't complain, eh?". "Yeah, you're right".
It was almost awkward but at the same time not really. We introduced ourselves. I told him my name was Ahmad (pronounced Ah-med) and that I was from Malaysia. He told me his name in the most awesome foreign accent I've heard in weeks, "I'm Roberto. I'm from Venezuela."
Honest to God, it was super cool to hear someone say "Roberto" and "Venezuela" in such a genuine South American/Spanish accent. When he talked, he talked with an American accent but whenever a Spanish word came into the conversation, he would say it in the correct Spanish way.
We hit it off pretty much instantly after that. We talked through his whole dinner, then we had drinks (him a beer and me just water) and continued talking. We talked about a lot stuff, including why we were in Frankfurt, what he does, what I do, our thoughts on some random current issues and a whole lot of other stuff. He talked to me about how he was now working in Brussels and that he was meeting his girl in Germany and that he played guitar in a band and he was only in Frankfurt to retrieve the guitar he left behind in the train after meeting his girl. I told him about my research and he was actually interested in it, connecting my ideas with his knowledge of music. I was delighted. I finally had a friend to talk to. Like, really talk to.
About an hour and a half later, Roberto asked, "So, Ahmed. Do you have any plans tonight?" "Well, I was thinking of finishing up some work on a paper I'm writing". I was such a nerd. Even in one of the liveliest cities in Germany, I was still such a nerd. "Well, I was going to ask you to come with me and watch some live music. I have a list of some cool places I want to see."
I was having a great time with Roberto and I really wanted to experience more of Frankfurt, so I said to myself, "Screw it" and decided to join Roberto for some awesome live music.
We took a little break to freshen up before meeting back at the lobby around 10PM. Roberto asked the receptionist for directions to one of the popular places on the list called Batschkapp, which is this cool bar and live music lounge that's been open since the 70s.
We got the directions and set out, taking the train to Eschersheim, which was somewhere north of Frankfurt city center. When we got there, we arrived at the dodgiest train station I'd ever seen. It wasn't even a station, it was just a train stop at the side of the road. There wasn't anyone around and the whole place just gave off a horror movie vibe and I suddenly began to question my choices in life.
Roberto felt the same way. It was his first time in Frankfurt and he didn't know his way around anywhere either. We decided to look for people to ask directions, in case the receptionist had given us the wrong one. There was a restaurant that was closing right beside the train stop. Roberto was a very friendly person and had no fear of going up to people to ask directions. We talked to some guys that were near the kitchen and they were having kind of a hard time communicating the directions to us. What we found out was that the Batschkapp had actually moved away from Eschersheim and into the city. We were from the city!!! They said that the Batschkapp was indeed just on the other side of the tracks but was demolished for some unfathomable reason.
Roberto and his hat talking to the gentlemen
They gave us convoluted and complicated directions to go back to the city to get to the new venue. We were just about to leave when another man stepped out from the kitchen and asked us what was going on. We said that we were looking for the Batschkapp and he also exclaimed that the new venue was in the city. He was a very nice guy, and introduced himself and his friends to us. "I am the chef here and these two are my kitchen helpers. We were just closing our restaurant." Roberto and I had already introduced ourselves to the two guys before and we introduced ourselves again to the chef. Roberto, in his South American/Spanish accent, said his name and where he was from. I didn't know why, but every time he said he was from Venezuela, guys go, "VENEZUELA?! VENEZUELAN WOMEN!!!". "My name is Ahmed, from Malaysia" and then the chef went "OH, AHMED! THAT'S NORMAL, THAT'S A GERMAN NAME!"
What?
The chef went on to say, "Batschkapp here is old school. New school is in the city. You are old school!"
Those dudes were very friendly and helpful, giving us the easier directions this time around and wished us luck on our way. As delightful as they were, the place was beginning to get even dodgier the longer we stayed, and to put the icing on the cake, as we were leaving the restaurant, the chef goes, "Have fun at the Batschkapp! Do you need any marijuana or cocaine? *laughs sarcastically* No, I'm just kidding! Have fun!"
I don't think he was kidding.
We caught the next train back to the city then headed to the new venue, which was in the eastern part of the city. We took the train and also the tram to get there. When we got to Gwinnerstraße, we still didn't know exactly where to go so Roberto, again, sought the help of a couple that was walking to the tram station. They said the place was just over there, right behind the station we stopped at. They were also very nice and wished us a fun time at the Batschkapp.
We were almost there, and I heaved a sigh of relief. It took us more than an hour just to get there and I was looking forward to listen to some live music.
We saw the building from afar and it was huge! Roberto was especially surprised because from the things he had read on the internet, the place was supposed to be this small venue that had small gigs and stuff but this place looked like a proper music venue - the kind you hold concerts at. The closer we got to the place, the more we noticed how silent it was. That was strange, seeing as it was supposed to be a place of live music. Roberto assured me that he had checked the schedule and was certain that there was a show that night. But the silence was just deafening and it would've been the worst way to end such an adventure.
But yes, the place was indeed closed. Ironic that there was a show the night before and the next night, but not on that fateful Friday. We were left in disbelief and could do nothing else but head back to the hostel.
Oh, but our adventure didn't end there.
We got to the hostel a little after midnight and Roberto got hungry, so we walked around Frankfurt to look for some food. We went pass some strip clubs and were approached by multiple pushers selling drugs when we were stopped by one of the "promoters" of a strip club. He was really cool, and invited us in to enjoy some drinks and see the show. Roberto, being the pleasant dude that he is, told the guy that he was just looking for food. The promoter guy was so chill, he actually recommended us to one of the places that sold pizza right across the street. People in Frankfurt were very helpful!
Roberto got his pizza and I asked him if he wanted to eat it there or at the hostel or someplace else. He didn't mind so I suggested that we walk to the Main River and have him eat his pizza on the scenic Iron Bridge.
Roberto had not been around Frankfurt and it was nice for him to at least see the bridge and the river that I really liked. I was also happy to be able to experience the night life in Frankfurt. We talked for about two hours on that bridge, about our countries and its politics, our views on life and the world and our plans for our future. I loved how open and honest Roberto was. And he was very attentive in our conversations. I came to Frankfurt with such a heavy load but meeting Roberto really took a lot off my shoulders.
Before heading back to the hostel, I wanted to show Roberto the beautiful view of the city from across the bridge. As we were crossing the bridge, there was a group of about five or six guys just drinking and smoking that stopped us. I wanted to just ignore them and run away but Roberto actually engaged in conversation with them.
Two of them approached us, one holding a Fanta Orange. "Can I ask you a question?" one of them says. "Where are you from?" Roberto says, in his awesome accent, "Venezuela". "OHHH VENEZUELAN WOMEN!!!". I told them I was from Malaysia. There was a short pause before the guy goes, "Can I ask you another question?" ... "Are you two gay?"
What?
"No, we're not gay," Roberto tells him. "Good... Good... I cannot talk to gay. Because my... My..." The guy looks at his friend with the Fanta Orange while rubbing his chest area, who at this point was half-baked. His friend said, "Chest... Heart..." "Ah, yes! My heart can't *something I don't remember or don't understand*"
The first guy then said, "Come! Come drink with us! Smoke some marijuana, have a good time!". We just said "Thanks but we have to go," and made our way across the bridge.
"Dude, I thought we were gonna get mugged back there," I told Roberto. "Yeah, I thought so too." "Do you think they were high? I think they were high," "Yeah, and maybe drunk" "But that dude was just holding a Fanta..."
We got to the spot to see the view and it was, as promised, a beautiful view of the city. At first I didn't want to take a photo because I didn't have my camera on me but I took one anyway using my phone.
"This is going to turn out shit but I'm taking it anyway" - Ahmed, 2:22AM (Frankfurt, 2016)
We got back to the hostel at aroud 3AM, but this time crossed a different bridge. We hung out at the lobby for a while but I decided to go to sleep so I would wake up in time for breakfast the next morning.
The night's adventures ended there but not my time with Roberto. The next day I was to catch my train to Brussels from Frankfurt before getting on the train to Paris. It turned out that Roberto was also taking the same train going back to Brussels! I felt really happy to have a friend for the train ride, as well.
I spent the next morning working out some problems regarding my phone that wouldn't charge even after buying a new cable from the Apple Store in Frankfurt. At 2PM, Roberto and I boarded the train that was headed to Brussels, Belgium.
ICE ICE, baby
"Would you like a Pepperidge Farm Chocolate Chunk White Chocolate Macademia Cookie?"
Taking up two seats like a total inconsiderate tourist
We talked more on the train, going on and on for hours. The train ride was supposed to last around 4 hours but we experienced a lot of delays while on the tracks and I was praying to God the whole time that I wouldn't miss my next train. (I didn't miss my next train)
Roberto gave me a copy of his band's self-produced album titled "La Furia". It was an amazing parting gift and I really wished I had something to give him in return.
Roberto's band, La Ultima Thule self-produced this album with original artwork
Listen to the album on Soundcloud: http://soundcloud.com/laultimathule
Personally autographed by Roberto, himself!
The songs on the album are really good. They are sung in Spanish (if I'm not mistaken) but even just listening to the music, you can really appreciate the quality of the music they produced.
Almost four hours later we reached Brussels Midi, the south station that connects the trains to Paris. I said my goodbyes to Roberto and thanked him for being such an awesome person to be with. I had only known him for less than 24 hours, but his honesty and authenticity just made him the perfect person to run into while I was at my lowest. Plus, I came back home with an unforgettable story from that one night in Frankfurt.
Brussels Midi
As I was waiting for my train to Paris, I realized that I would be alone all over again, and that I still had four more nights in Paris before reaching home. At least a lot of my anxiety had worn off and my excitement to be in a new city (and country) came back. An hour later, I was on the train to Paris - The City of Love.
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