Friday, September 3
Die Jugendherberge (The Youth Hostel)
Hey, I've got to practise my German somehow! And it is in der Jugendherberge that I now find myself writing this.I arrived in Heidelberg too late to register at the university accomodation, and needed somewhere cheap and cheerful to stay for the night. A youth hostel fits that description perfectly.
Why was I late? Because the fucking coach journey from the airport took fucking forever. It was full, and very hot, and I didn't have a drink with me, so the journey was a tad uncomfortable to say the least. The battery on my laptop ran out too, right in the middle of a game of Champ. The bastard.
My laptop is in my room at the moment, so I'm back to the good old notebook and pen combination. I'm sitting at a table outside the youth hostel, watching a load of guys have rugby practice on a nearby pitch. No, I didn't know Germans played rugby either.
I was a little surprised when I opened the door to my room (after an unnecessarily complicated unlocking procedure, which involves a button, a keycard, something to turn and then pulling the door before pushing it open) to find other people's stuff there.
I've never stayed in a youth hostel before, and I wasn't expecting to open my door and find beds already occupied. The owners weren't there, but I think they are Japanese, judging by the toothpastes in the bathroom.
I think another guy went in just as I was going down the corridor and then outside to this table. I should go and say hello, but it's far too tranquil, cool and peaceful out here to go back inside just yet.
I have my bottle of Sprite (500ml in a glass bottle, not those poxy 330ml plastic bottles you get back at home), my notebook and a bundle of thoughts racing around my head. I just can't go back inside.
One thing that occurred to me as I wrote that aside above: how long before I start calling here "home", and home "London"? It took about 6 months to change from my parents' house to my house in London, so perhaps we are looking at the same timeframe here. This is a whole new country though.
Righty, I've sat here long enough, enjoying, as Depeche Mode would say, the silence. It's time to go meet some new people.
Oh, and speak some German. That would probably be a good thing. Speaking of which, actually, I quite surprised myself on the coach with the sheer volume of words and phrases that kept popping into my head as I sat there listening to some tunes. Some of them I hadn't used or even thought about in years, but they just came back to me from nowhere. Spooky.
I still couldn't understand the taxi-driver though. Dammit.
Tschuß!
1 Comments:
Thought that the description of 'that night' in London was very well done, what seems like many a year ago when I lost mine I wrote about it in a diary and it is nice to look back on. Anyway that's besides the point, I know that you've been gone a few days but if you stretch your memory you'll remember that sprite (or whatever) comes in 330ml cans and 500ml (albeit plastic)bottles. Sorry I know it's a small point but it was really bugging me.
Kate (http://screamtoasigh.blog-city.com)
By 
, at 10:17 PM
