Schwarzlicht under Görlitzer

It’s nice to be back in civilization. Fusion was another world. I’m glad to be well fed and showered.

Today Jesse and I went for a stroll through the beautiful Görlitzer park in Kreuzberg, a suburb of Berlin. Like most of Germany there is an interesting story behind this landmark.

I noticed part of the park was indented (kind of like a bowl), and it looked like a very round, empty overgrown lake. Jesse (being the experienced traveller) explained a bomb had indented the earth during WWII. Today, people are eating, laughing and chatting on the lovely, soft grass that now seals the past.

Schwarzlicht Mini-golf

As we wander around the park, we stumble upon a small building. After going down several flights of stairs, we discover a small underground mini-golf park has been established. The course is completely dark and is played via the light of glow-in-the-dark golf balls, golf clubs and floor patterns.

Jesse wins of course, and I throw a tantrum. This little experience was tacky and fun. We scoffed lollies and sucked on icy poles like a bunch of 12 year old’s who had found $20 on the road. A very cute date, I highly recommend this for a bunch of goofballs who don’t have anything better to do.

– Yes, I’m a goofball, take me there! – Schwarzlicht Mini-golf (Black Light Mini-Golf)

Fusion – A religious experience

It has been a whole two hours since we have arrived, and impending bad weather has people running around frantically. A looming cloud that spans for miles has turned the festival into a scene of chaos. This isn’t like any other cloud I’ve ever seen before, it looks menacingly dangerous and is descending on the festival at a rapid pace.

It probably doesn’t help that the festival is being held on an abandoned German airfield. The wind is so strong peoples tents are being blown away. Sirens start ringing and an announcement in German commands us to find shelter for our own safety. Have we walked into the grasp of Armageddon?

The weather appears to be turning people a bit crazy. Adrenalin is pumping through my body and it seems to be turning me a bit crazy too. This storm is something special. It is mighty and powerful, and it also looks like an official weekend destroyer.

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I am terrified. The rain won’t stop and I’ve lost track of time. I was eager to get out and explore our weekend playground, but we are trapped. Jesse and I huddle inside our small $20 tent waiting for the storm to clear.

Our friends Shell, Chris and Taylor are waiting beside us in their own tent. Only an hour earlier we had been ordered back to our tents as the rain got heavier and the weather more dangerous. We eventually all squish into one of the two tents, drink vodka and eat the first of what will be many mysterious German pills. Our weekend ritual has officially begun.

Suddenly there is silence.

I check my watch, it’s 4am and the storm has thinned. We’re ready to go.

The festival is huge. We’ve walked in a circle three times, like moths to the flame, we slowly drift between each of the stages, following the distant vibrations of the base. A pulse in the night.

I’ve lost my mind.

Lost in Bachstelzen

I feel like we’re hours away from our campsite. We finally found the music we’ve been looking for. About 20 minutes away from the festival we enter a cluster of trees amongst the giant field of tents, caravans and people. It borders onto a forest of trees, dark and inviting. The lights are sparkling tonight. It’s perfect, a little bubble of perfection. Small and intimate and magical. People are dancing, chatting, drinking, snorting, fucking, sucking, climbing, sleeping, eating, and laughing.

I find myself dancing around a strange shrine, which quickly becomes the staple of our adventure at the festival. The rest of the weekend is a blur. I don’t really remember much of it at all, except for the fact that it I think it was one of the best experiences of my life.

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Before I know it, the sun on the last day of the festival has risen. Somehow, we are all still together and we have accumulated more friends throughout the last few days and nights. We are still in our little haven of trees, miles away from our belongings back at the campsite. I never want to leave!

I sniff the last of my magic dust and fall off the swing I’m sitting on.

~

I’m definitely glad to be sleeping in a warm, dry bed again.

– Check out Fusion Festival

Eylauer Straße

It’s been an exhausting night. I’ve woken from my haze and realised our train doesn’t arrive into Ostbahnhof (East Train Station), Berlin for another few hours. I just want to get off the train already! The romance of this train ride has definitely worn off, I’m in a strange place around strange people with no privacy. I’m feel fragile and vulnerable and just plain blah.

An unexpected delay

Suddenly, Berlin seems further away than ever. A gruff sounding man comes onto the trains speaker system and says something quickly into the microphone. Thankfully, the message is repeated by the same man in English for those of us who are German-illiterate. Our train has been diverted to the German city of Cologne due to technical issues, and it sounds like we won’t be leaving until late afternoon. At least I can have that cigarette I’ve been waiting to smoke for nine hours! At least.

~

It’s 8pm and we’ve finally arrived at Yorkstrasse Station, which is the closest station to our new home. The mission of finding our house now seems like an impossible task, as all we have are small screen-shots of a map on our iPhones.

_

I’m grumpy, and it’s just started to rain. There is nothing I want more than to be quickly swept away to our long awaited destination in a nice warm taxi. Instead, Jesse insists we walk as “we’ll need to know how to navigate around this area.” Shoot me please!

We have been walking for a full hour with only a vague idea of where we are going. The map is difficult to read, the rain is now pouring and it’s all a bit too much for me at this point.

Finally, out of the darkness, we find what we’ve been looking for. After all that searching we had finally arrived at Eylauer Street, and I was bubbling with anticipation. The happiness I knew I would feel once I walked into that apartment would be extreme. So many familiar faces in strange places! Friends from Melbourne have come to join us for our little German getaway. We’ve all booked an apartment for our stay in Berlin together. The excitement is overwhelming!

Tired, but excited, Jesse and I dropped our soaked belongings and I plopped onto a newly made bed, content as ever. The warm glow of the lamp quickly reminded me how tired I was. However, sleep was not what my night had in store. After only a few minutes of relaxation Jesse and I quickly packed a weekend bag and prepared ourselves to leave.

Everyone had been eagerly waiting for us to arrive, as some of us would be going away for the weekend, deep in the German countryside. The five of us going away walked down the dark, wet streets and were at our local train station within minutes (Yes, minutes).

Instead of fatigue I now felt nervous and excited. I am on yet another dark train which will take me to another dark and exciting destination.

Onwards

Jesse and I have just boarded our midnight train to Berlin. Is it odd that I am extremely excited to board a 12-hour express train? I don’t even care that I won’t be able to smoke (I probably will later)! My cheeks are beginning to ache because I can’t stop smiling!

This whole experience has just been so obscenely perfect and amazing so far. We have booked this particular train so that when we wake the next morning, we can sit and watch the rolling German country side before getting sucked into the city streets.

We are put into a four bed carriage with a sweet old German man and a young French man. Fortunately, the young French man can speak both German and English. Unfortunately for us, he is a quiet man and doesn’t say much throughout the entire trip. (I must admit, a wave of jealousy washes over me whenever I encounter multilinguists!). It is such a strange thing to be in a confined space with 4 people who all speak different languages for 12 hours! Hand gestures mostly facilitate my interactions with our older German roomy.

Our room is small, but we all fit comfortably and I’m glad we paid an extra $30 to obtain a four person cabin. It seems that many rooms the same size as ours have managed to fit six people in each, which seems slightly ridiculous. The rooms are about 3 metres wide and 3 metres deep. It looks suffocating in there! People are literally crawling all over one another. Some people are sleeping in the hallways in an attempt to escape the madness!

I discover this when I walk through the carriages in the hopes of finding something to eat. Maybe they have a romantic bistro on the train somewhere? Am I imagining something that is too old school ‘Hollywood’? I have a lot to learn about Europe and their trains! Our romantic dinner consisted of a KitKat and some chips. And Coke.

Mental note: The cuisine available on an economy-class international train is equivalent to a Hoyts Candybar.

Noted.

~

Jesse and I chat quietly, read and listen to music until it is well past 4am. We gradually drift to sleep as the train slowly sways and carries on into the night.

Paris, the city of love!

Another day is setting…

I feel like I’ve been swept up in a dream. It’s been three whirlwind-like days since Jesse and I first arrived at Paris’ Charles de Gaulle airport. The first few days have been tiring, but exciting. Tonight we will board an overnight train that will leave this gorgeous city and move onwards to Berlin.

Before then we will be meeting up with my friend Flavien, a Paris local. I met him while he was working on a temporary visa in Australia and I’m excited to see him in his home town. The last time I saw Flavien he was sucking the face off some guy in a terrible Melbourne club. Maybe when I see him this time our activities will be more civil?

Whilst our days in Paris have been jam-packed full of shopping, galleries, cathedrals and famous landmarks, I feel as though it has all been a bit contrived and well planned for my liking. I’m hoping that with the help of my Parisian friend we can break away from our ‘tourist’ label and completely immerse ourselves into French culture.

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Tonight we’ll be dining with Flavien, who has also offered to give us a personalized tour of Paris (from a local perspective).

For the last three nights both Jesse and I had been heavily disappointed with our evening dining experiences.  I had fantasized about dining in a small and romantic bistro with delicious food, wine and music. Instead I was served mince in the shape of a steak for $25.

Thankfully, with Flavien by our side, those god-awful dinners were hopefully behind us.

After walking for what seemed like hours, through many twists and turns and nooks and crannies, Flavien led us to the place I had imagined. Tucked away in the Latin-quarter of Paris, we had come across a narrow lane crawling with hip, young people. We chose a quaint little restaurant as the last light slipped away.

La Maison de Verlaine

The place we had chosen was a former home to Ernest Hemingway before it was converted into a lovely little haven for hungry people like me. It was perfect – affordable and absolutely delightful meals. The three of us chose a set-menu meal for $20 each with a $10 bottle of wine from Southern France to share between us. I was in heaven.

As the clock struck 9pm, we crossed the narrow lane and piled into a packed bar, full of soccer fans. We drank wine, smoked and laughed for what seemed like hours. It was hard parting with Flavien and our fleeting French lifestyle, but it was finally time for us to go.

 

As we stumbled through a glorious park towards the train that would take us to the beginning of our next transit, I remember holding Jesse’s hand and looking up to see the Eiffel tower through a small crack in the trees. Shining through the darkness in all it’s glory. At that moment I realized that I was in love, in the city of love, and that our adventure was just beginning.

I wanted to stay, but knew that Berlin was waiting for us.

– Share my eating experience at La Maison de Verlaine, Paris

Lift off

I don’t know why, but whenever I fly it seems to be at night when the weather is dark and looks unforgiving. It makes the experience extremely horrific. You see, I have an intense fear of flying. This can also be referred to aerophobia, aviatophobia, or aviophobia.

It has been calculated that flying is the safest form of transport in the world. The chance of our plane crashing is one in a million. You are more likely to be killed by a cow (yikes) than from your flight suddenly taking a sickening turn for the worse.

Yet, I am always deeply convinced that mine will be the one that falls out of the sky!

Well, I think (and hope) that I’ve found a way of dealing with this fear. That little terror that envelopes me every time I step onto the dark tarmac.

It comes in the form of a small white pill, which has been created to take the anxiousness away. Valium is my flight friend!

I was off on the adventure of a lifetime with the man I’d fallen in love with. Next stop, Paris, the city of love. It was just a matter of getting onto that plane and letting go of my fears. I should have been overwhelmed with excitement, but instead was racked with nervousness at the thought of our untimely deaths.

So this time, although still dark, I was prepared for the ride to come. I swallowed it exactly 20 minutes before we boarded our flight, and hoped it wouldn’t take long to kick in. I sat quietly in my seat, breathing deeply. We began to move away from the terminal and I knew then that it was time. I could feel the roar of the engine beneath me. I’m not at all religious, but I prayed.

The lights flickered off and suddenly it was pitch black. Surrounded by strangers, I held Jesse’s hand (and my breath) for dear life as he wrapped his arms around me.

~

What the hell was all the fuss about anyway?

Bonjour Paris!