Deutsches Museum

Today I went to the Deutsches Museum, not really knowing what to expect. Museums can be hit or miss. I hadn't been to one in a long time, so I was prepared for the worst case scenario: seeing the exact same things as any other museum. Things got off to a good start when I pulled off my usual 'I'm still a student' scam, and got in for 3 euros instead of 8. I wandered inside, cheerful to be out of the bitter cold and cheerful to have enough change to catch the U-Bahn back again later.

The place was enormous. I didn't know where to start so I just walked. I found myself in a hall full of engines and motors, electrical equipment, cranks to turn, buttons to press, explosions going off in the distance, electricity dancing off coils. It was like being in a mad scientist's laboratory. I was entranced. I hadn't expected this at all. I wandered around, and gazed for a time at a massive Porsche engine that could get a 1 and a half tonne car to 100km/h in 5.9s. I stared in wonder at the poorly translated information, and I marveled at the contraption itself. It's strange metallic parts. Pistons and pumps and all things that I don't know the slightest thing about. Not for the first time in my life, I felt that strange pang, that wistful fleeting feeling, that wish that that spark of interest was just that bit bigger and I could be more like Dad and be into the car thing.

I wandered through every field of science, a new one in each room. It's easy to see why so many scientists (or 'natural philosophers' as it were) were multi-disciplinary beings, following their diverse interests to wherever they took them. The world's too damn interesting to specialise in just one thing.

Then I found the good stuff: the aviation section, and the space section. I wandered around taking photos of flying things like my life depended on it. I felt a bit giddy, and I must have been grinning like an idiot.

I don't know how many hours I wandered through that enormous place... more than 3 but I'm not sure how many more. It was a good day. After that I went walking in the soft snow-flaky air until I found myself at Odeonsplatz. I bought a hot chocolate at a Starbucks to warm my hands, and kept walking towards the hostel. In an underpass a young German-speaker approached me asking for help. He didn't know how to get to Ostbahnhof. What is it about me? I always get asked these things. Matt the Integrator. He was a cute kid, roughly my age, and I tried to help him out as best I could. I walked on, whistling to myself and passing the hot plastic cup from hand to hand.

I think the reason I enjoyed the museum so much is that it made me remember something about myself. Something I haven't thought about for a really long time: that I am such a boy sometimes. Haha.

One sausage goes a long way.

Sometimes I have no idea how I do it.

Last night I stressed myself out majorly trying to plan parts of my trip, booking things on hostelworld.com and trying to figure out awkward train routes. I ended up being so mind-fucked by this that I went to the hostel bar to get my free beer and just chill the fuck out. Having spent a quiet few days in Cologne I was feeling the need to socialise but I didn't like my chances. It was still early, about 6ish and even though happy hour is from 6 to 8 there weren't many people around and everyone was speaking German and I just couldn't bring myself to approach anyone. After a few minutes a couple that spoke English came in, so I went up them and it turns out they were Irish, and the bloke was born in Letterkenny. We had a time talking about Ireland and trying to figure out if we knew any of the same people. I've never felt so Irish in my life. Ha.

Anyway we got to drinking and we each got a pitcher (for 5 euro) and drank and drank. At some point things must have got livelier because I ended up talking to all sorts. People are so fascinating. So at some point the cute German girl who checked me in that day comes in, so I start hanging out with her, doing more drinking, etc.

I ended up out with her til 4am drinking in various hostels along Senefelderstrasse.

Let me pause here to reflect on something. I am really tired of my inability to get girls. I don't know if I'm doing something wrong, or if it's just the temporary nature of the traveler that puts people off, but I am so over it. Seems I spend so much time and effort talking and hanging out all night and buying drinks and being the nice guy and walking her home or to a bus or train or whatever and not getting anything for my troubles. Not that I expect something. I guess it's just been so long that I really miss physical contact.

Putting on the positivity glasses for a second; maybe it's a good thing that I'm not getting anywhere. Shows I'm going for the right sort of girls. By that I just mean that if you do find somebody who's fairly forward it's pretty obvious that it's a once off thing. And I really don't do one night stands. Maybe when I get back home, or settle somewhere and make a new home then I'll know if my approach is any good.

Anyway, back to the story. So I was out til 4am, drunk as anything. Got up just in time for the free walking tour at 11am. So I'm dehydrated but I don't have any water, and I don't have time for breakfast. Just a quick coffee and a red bull and away I go.

Somehow I managed the 3 and half hour tour in the almost freezing temperatures on no sleep and no food. At about the mid point of the tour we stopped to get some bratwurst and a so-called 'breakfast beer' in the markets. This is a wheat beer which is less gassy and hence more suitable for the stomach in the mornings. Madness. A single sausage in a tiny bun and half a litre of beer to kick off the day. Anyway, the tour was awesome and Munich is gorgeous. Afterwards I gunned it down to the BMW complex, the Olympiastadium, and back again to buy a train ticket and run some other errands.

All this and I wasn't even hungry, wasn't even tired. I went and got a Whopper for the sake of common sense, but I really didn't feel like I needed it. I don't know how I do it sometimes...

On Deutschland and moustaches.

Germany is the best. I'm buzzing. Everything is great. I'm walking the street and I see old people actually sporting Kaiser moustaches from another era! This is the greatest of joys I can imagine. At the crosswalks the people stop and stand there until the man goes green, irrespective of whether there are cars coming or not. I'm not used to that level of obediance, so I must stand out. I just cross the street when it's safe like in most countries. When I do that though nobody follows me. They wait. It's not like anywhere else.

Everything here is cheap and beautiful and wonderful. I went to the city's most famous landmark: the giant Dom cathedral. Climbed right to the top of that thing, huffin', puffin' and hobbling up the 500ish stairs in the narrow, winding case. Wow, what a view. It's gorgeous. The afternoon sun blazing a path over the Rhine and into the city streets.

In the space outside the Dom, a street performer was wandering around dressed as Charlie Chaplin, doing the schtick to try for tourist tips. It looked like the guy had gone to great lengths to get his moustache just that little bit longer than would be historically accurate. I guess that look isn't as popular in Germany as it once was.

I walked back home to clear my camera. Ah, the joys of walking distance. Got back in no time and headed out again, checking out the Roman ruins that can be found throughout Köln. Found a space invader along the way. Then I went to EL-DE building: the former Gestapo prison. Wow. Real cells, real incriptions in the walls, the last pained thoughts of innocent inmates scratched in with anything from lipstick to fingernails.

This is what it's all about.

Battle Scars

I'm deep in Euro territory now and the injuries are starting to stack up. My right foot is totally fucked right now. Struggling to walk on it the last few hours. Not sure what I did to it. It's funny the whole injuries thing. Seems almost every fellow traveller I meet is carrying some niggle or another. There's always someone who's got a chronic cold, somebody with a limp, somebody coughing out a lung. It's the way of things.

Me, I'm doing okay about it all. Rode the train into Köln from Amsterdam. My streak of strange encounters with mildly famous Australians on trains has continued: first the Howling Bells on the train from London to Paris, and today I was in the same car as The Umbilical Brothers. They were mildly amusing to observe.

Train had tech problems so we had to switch, end up stuck on a cold platform, eating the skin off my dry lips for a good half hour, and late getting in but what does that matter. Köln is a lot warmer than Amsterdam. Amsterdam was like ice in my underpants. Couldn't walk the streets it was so bad. Plus there's that foot thing.

Goes nicely with my other injuries: mystery burn scar on my hand which looks increasingly worse, my usual skin irritation thing on my hands which is in full swing now, stiff neck and my cracked up lips.

Köln is pretty cool. I'm glad that I got clean linen this time. I was on a bad streak til Amsterdam. Seemed every hostel I went to I had to sleep in somebody's shadow. What can you do? Maybe my luck is changing.

I'm glad to be out of Amsterdam. I loved it there but I need to keep moving and it's nice here too. And it's quiet. I need to chill out for a while, get my mind back. Start concentrating now that I've got some space. Need to get writing again and leave behind all the mixed up thoughts I had in Amsterdam.