Alright, it’s time for the big long journal update telling everybody about my day in Germany. It was a long day and I am exhausted, but it was one of the best days ever. I had such a good time. The first stage of my journey was getting to the airport in time for my 6:00 am flight. I had to leave our dorm around 3:15 Tuesday morning and I caught bus #1. While I was waiting for bus #2, I met a man named Douglas from Brazil. He’s a cook here in London and plays his guitar on the corner at night, so that was interesting. When I got on the bus, we did not sit together because he was kind of annoying (but he did tell me how pretty I am, so that’s nice). Anyway, so I sat down next to a guy and we just sat there until some weirdo tried to get on the bus with (I am not making this up) two clear garbage bags full of sides of beef. He tried to kind of hurry past the driver, but the driver stopped him and yelled out (not kidding), “Get your meat off my bus! Get off! No meat!” So the little guy took his meat-filled garbage bags and got off the bus and the guy I was sitting next to looks over at me and we just start cracking up. Anyway, his name was Ishmael (I’ve already expressed my displeasure with his lack of “Ishmael” jokes) and he showed me where to get a ticket for the Stansted Express (the train you take to the airport) and then kept me company while I ate a little breakfast from the sandwich stand across the street. Well, around 4:30 Ishmael went home and I found my train. It took about 45 minutes to get from the station to the airport and I grabbed a small snooze while on the train.
Once I got to the airport, I had awhile to wait but I got my flight around 6:00 and I was off for Germany! The flight was only about 1 hour 15 minutes long, so I grabbed another small snooze and then it was time to get off the plane. I then found my train that took me from Dusseldorf to Dortmund. There was a 3-piece traveling band on the train. It was three guys playing a tambourine, saxophone and accordion, which is hilarious because you don’t just see accordion players every day. Also, they only seemed to know one song, so you’d put change in their cup just so they’d go away and play somewhere else. But it was kinda funny.
When I arrived in Dortmund, it was already pretty crazy. There were people everywhere in the downtown area, going in and out of shops, playing carnival games, stuff like that. I was hungry for lunch, so I found a German Pub and had some soup and baked camembert cheese with pears that had cranberry sauce on them. It was really good. I also spent the meal trying to say interesting things via hand gestures to the old German couple sitting with me. It was cute.
After lunch, it was time to find the stadium (I at least wanted to take pictures of it). So I set off for the stadium, which turned out to be a long-ass walk (hence the blog update mid-journey because I needed to get out of the heat and sit down for awhile). I finally got up there and started looking around. There was a beautiful rose garden and hedge garden, which I took a picture of for mom. I walked around and got as close to the stadium as I could (it was blocked off) and took some pictures. Then I stopped one of the gate-workers and asked him how I could get into the areas they had set up for people who don’t have tickets to watch the game. He pointed me in the right direction and it turned out it’s free! So that was great. I went inside and there was a huge room that had tables and beer booths and food and a stage for a band and big TVs, so I figured that’s where I’d watch the game. The decorations of this room was hysterical, by the way. It had shiny draps in arches over the doorways and there were tinfoil stars and diamonds and hearts all over the walls. It was very high school promy and I kept looking around for the area where you get your picture take with something like, “The Way You Look Tonight” scrolled across the bottom. Anyway……the room was cracking me up.
Alright, so I got myself a beer and sat down. About half-way through my beer, I realized that it was only about 3:00 pm and the game didn’t start til 9:00, so there was no way I’d sit there and drink for 6 hours because then I’d never see the game. So I decided to walk around and I found down in the basement a cocktail lounge that was decorated with different booths, each representing one of the African nations that made the World Cup and that’s when I sat down next to George and Simon. George is a Greek who grew up in German and Simon is a German, but their English was pretty good, George’s in particular. We sat and had a mojito together and then they said I should come with them down to the Fan Fest area (where I’d been earlier) and I didn’t want to walk back, but they said we’d take the Metro and I said that sounded great.
So down at Fan Fest, we ended up at a German Pub and there were a bunch of guys there that Simon and George work with, so we sat with them and drank beers. After awhile, a bunch of old guys came in and they were being hysterical. The ringleader of the old men was really pretty old (70 to 75 I’d say) and he was hysterical. He gave me a cigar and put a temporary tattoo of the German flag on my sternum (you could see it right in the neckline of my shirt, it was great). We spent the afternoon hanging out and singing rousing German songs and drinking beer, it was really fun.
Around 7:00, we headed back to the stadium because George and Simon wanted to get inside. They took really good care of me and helped me find a good area to look for tickets to buy. They leave and I realize that I need a sign, so I ripped the back cover off my crossword puzzle book in my purse and wrote Need 1 Ticket on it and walked around trying to look all cute and sad. Everybody who approached me, however, wanted between 600-800 Euro for one ticket, which I was not about to pay. Finally, one guy came up and said 400 Euro. That gave me pause because after spending the day in Dortmund I REALLY wanted to go to the game. I talked to this guy for awhile, but eventually I gave up because I didn’t want to spend that much. I decided to forget buying a ticket and I headed back for the gate where I went in earlier to the High-School-Prom-Soccer-Watching-Room. Except when I got to the gate, there were very stern-looking German policemen/women guarding it and telling us that it was closed because it was full. So I was really bummed because now suddenly I have no ticket, I have lost my two buddies and I can’t even go back to the place I was earlier to watch the game. I was starting to think I was going to have a really bad night when a random guy comes up to me and my sad little 1 Ticket sign and tells me there are people selling tickets in front of a nearby hotel for much cheaper than at the stadium. So I set off for the hotel and as I’m walking there, a man sees my sign and he asks me how much I’m willing to pay and I tell him I have about 250 Euro, which I know isn’t very much but it’s all I have and he goes, “Well, if that’s all you have I can’t take it all, so how about 200 Euro and we’ll call it even?” And I even got a little teary-eyed because he was so nice and could’ve gotten so much more money for his ticket. Also, I know 200 Euro is a lot of money (ahem-Mom-and-Dad-ahem), but for a ticket to a World Cup semi-final game it is DIRT CHEAP.
Just a sidebar. I have sort of noticed this phenomenon before, but it never really hit home until this trip: a pretty girl who is alone can get help with everything. All throughout this trip (bus stops, bus rides, train stations, airplanes, bars, the stadium, etc) I had guys, who weren’t creepy or sporting ulterior motives, wanting to talk to me and help me out if they could. Talk about universal currency.
Anyway, so I got a ticket from Alejandro, who was at the match with his father and two brothers and they are all Peruvian, even though one son lives in Boston. We sat together for the game and there were also a group of Germans next to us who were really nice and funny, so it was great.
The actual match itself was amazing. One of the best sporting events I’ve ever been to, definitely top 3. We were sitting in the best section, right with all the younger fans who stood the whole time and cheered non-stop and waved flags and tooted whistles and horns. It was so exciting and it actually was a great game, but Italy scored twice right at the last minute of Overtime, which was kind of depressing. But the really awesome thing is that after the game was over, the first thing the big cheering section did was start cheering some more until every German player left the field, which was awesome to see. Overall, the awesome day was capped off with a very cool live soccer experience.
However, after the game were an interesting couple of hours. Getting out of the stadium was a complete zoo and I got swept along in a crowd like the weak salmon or something and got carted off in the wrong direction. By the time I got straightened out, I couldn’t get back to where I had said I would meet George and Simon (which really stinks, I had wanted to hang out with them until my train came). So I headed back in the direction of the train station, which is the long-ass walk I took before, except this time it was mostly downhill, not as hot because it was dark and there were hundreds of people drinking and partying in the streets.
I got down to the train station and was greeted with the weirdest experience of the night, bar none. There were probably 300-400 people gathered in front of the train station trying to get inside to get trains home, but all along the front of the train station were German policemen or national guard guys standing shoulder-to-shoulder not letting anybody in. All along the barriers people were talking/pleading/yelling at the guards to try to get inside the station and the rest of the crowd was just milling around like cows, straining to hear the announcements made over the PA system. Those of us who are not German were just standing around feeling confused and for a short time I actually was quite worried that I wasn’t going to be able to get back to Dusseldorf. This entire scene was like some freaky hybrid of the Fall of the Saigon Embassy and the German army herding Jews into the concentration camps. People are begging to be let into the train station, but the ones in the middle of the crowd are just scared of the pushing and shoving and announcements in foreign languages and just general “mob mentality” foreshadowing.
So that was the train station. I decided I should get out of there and get something to eat and wait until it cleared up a little, so I start walking towards a restaurant area. On the way there, I meet Arros, a Moroccan man who it turns out is the one shady character I was sure to meet in my travels. He starts asking me questions about the train station, seeing as how I’ve just come from there, and I start answering because for all I know he’s some lost foreigner like me who just wants to get home. We come to a restaurant and he asks if I’m hungry and I say that I am, so we grab a table outside and order some coke and food. So far, so good.
Well, as soon as the waitress is gone, he gets out his weed and starts rolling a joint at the table and talking about how we’re going to smoke up together and where we’re going to go after we’re done eating. I’m sitting here thinking, “Is this guy high already? He thinks I’m going to do god knows what drug in a foreign country with some dude I just met and then go off with him? I am not an idiot!” So I grab the waitress, tell her what he’s up to, pay for my food and grab it to-go before he can really notice I’m gone. (Thank you, I know, please hold your applause at my decision not to hang out with the creepy drug-toting Moroccan). Anyway, so I sit down in a grassy area where a lot of people are hanging out and eating and have a little picnic. When I’m done, I head back for the German Prison Movie that is the Train Station and I manage to get there just in time for a crowd surge into the station when the guards let some people inside.
The bad part of the night is now over. As soon as I get in there, I find a train that is leaving for Dusseldorf and I cram in it and happen to stand right by a guy from Canada, a guy from Indianapolis, three old men from Birmingham, UK, and two nice German guys. We spend the train ride talking and telling jokes and having fun, even though I did sit on the floor for awhile because it was really crowded in there.
Finally, I get back to Dusseldorf and then finally the airport. By now it is about 3:00 am and I am tired, so I wrap my purse strap around my waist and lay down on a bench to sleep. I sleep til around 4:00, and then I check-in, get to the gate, spend a good chunk of time browsing the duty-free shop and eventually get on the plan for London. The minute we’re even taxiing to the runway (not in the air, taxiing to the runway) I fall asleep. I wake up as we’re about 20 minutes from London and start chatting with my seat-mate, Max Von Shcnitzerfruegal (not really, it was Max Von something, but I can’t remember). He lives in London, but grew up in Germany and Hong Kong and is an investment banker. We get to the airport and he helps me find the Stansted Express back to London, where we sit and chat over coffee.
I arrived at Liverpool Stn around 8:30 and got the Tube back to Russell Square, where I busted my ass to get back to the dorm by 9:00 so I’d still get the free breakfast. Then I go upstairs and shower and set out for class. I grab the bus because I’m sick of trains but I am too tired to walk and I manage to actually doze off for a few minutes on the bus on the way to class (I’m sensing a pattern here). But I am now safely ensconced in class and everybody wants to hear all about my day and no one can believe I actually got into the match, because I didn’t have a ticket or a plan or anything.
And that is my trip in a nutshell (a very large nutshell). I’m going to post pictures of everything with some more info/commentary later.
