P.S.: The End
Update - Pictures from The European Diaries on Facebook here.
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Armed with a HP P4 with Intel Centrino, a Canon Powershot A85, a Nokia 6610, a flourescent orange backpack, a Eurail pass and a copy of the Bible: Lonely Planet Guide to Western Europe, Chan travels across all of Western Europe, or at least where his visa and wallet let him. He also pursues business studies at Barcelona in between trips...
Early snow has come and almost gone. While the streets are all clear, the vast English gardens are still covered in dirty white freckles. The three squares of Karlsplatz, Odeonsplatz and Mariensplatz form a
Alpine Zoo,
1400 hrs. Shere-e-Punjab is run by a middle-aged couple from where else but
No snow even in
December 7th, Titisee
Lake Titisee lies to the south-east of Freiburg in the Black Forest region of Germany. Outside the Titisee station, snow floats down in specks too small to be called flakes. The roads are clear of snow which has been shovelled into untidy little heaps at regular intervals. Ducks numbering in dozens wade over hungrily to the edge of the
Dusk at 1630 hours. The grounds of the Sachsenhausen concentration camp have nary a light but the gloomy darkness is just the perfect setting to go around the place. Four hours later, the streets disappear quickly underfoot as siblings J and C lead the way and K and Chan follow. A motley crowd of about twenty-five English speakers from 5 continents gathers around at Hackescher Markt for Insider Tour's second show. K is quick to make introductions; Chan just watches from a distance. Soon Nate starts with his opening spiel and off the group goes to the first pub for the night. The deal is simple: hang your coats, buy your poison, and 'get to know' 'interersting people', all in 45 minutes with free shots on the house.
Chan is almost hysterical with silent laughter: what's a guy who neither drinks nor speaks doing on a Berlin pub-crawl? Nevertheless he lives in the moment and slips roles from awkward observer to earnest conversationalist. Apart from a minor overdose of Aussie high spirits, things are definitely looking up. Pub Number 2 is reached by walking across Oranienburger Strasse, as C talks to a Croatian girl and her Yankee friend. K, J, the Croatian and other unexplored entities hit the small dance floor while her brother keeps C busy with talk about Indian women wearing bindis and Croatian tennis players kicking ass. South African John soon joins the party and speaks of Sachin's 35th completed just a few hours ago. More interesting company beckons but Chan bides his time - the night is young and the crawl is a five hour thing: four pubs and a club. Time's up again, coats are grabbed, and Chan and John make for the exit speaking, of all the dumb things in the world, about Pietermaritzburg and Gandhi, about Johannesburg and Zaheer's first over.
To go straight or right? That is the question and a diagonally striped sweater points the way. But crossing the road leads to a gang from Berlin Walks. Chan retraces, John reconnoitres, but Nate and the group are nowhere to be seen. Frustration gives way to anger, desperation and resignation in quick succession as the young Berlin night dies a sudden death, like a flower bud crushed before it could bloom.
Paintings of Piazza San Marco of
Next up is another form of art – Roman Polanski’s Oliver Twist. It is impressive in how convincing it is – both the setting (Dickensian if one who has read exactly one-and-a-half works of his may say so) and the acting.
Sunday, December 18th
But the day begins with a walk around the medieval alleys in the Alfama region before we offload our luggage at a youth hostel for one last time. Lunch is Indian, and probably the most authentic one I’ve had in
Electric trams are found in most European cities but
Monday, December 19th
Another sunny day - a typical breakfast at the hostel, backpacks are stowed in pay-per-hour lockers at Gare do Oriente and we are off for another session in old
Most of the morning is spent exploring the Castelo de Sao Jorge and the surrounding area. For some reason, the castle features donkeys as its primary attraction. Apart from the animals in all their corporeal glory, the grounds contain life-sized posters of several fine specimens, and boards which proclaim hardware + software = burros.
There isn’t much left to see in
And thus ended the last trip, not on a heady high but on a tranquil tone – ignoring the impending submission back at school in Barcelona.
Hello and welcome aboard Flight RJ 108 from
Sweet Irony
In over a month of travelling across
And then right at the end, my keys to our swanky penthouse flat on Calle Pavia vanish into thin air somewhere between the master bedroom and the kitchen. Another delightful meeting with gracious Landlord, I think.
But it gets better. I get back home at 1530 after desperate last minute shopping to find that Evil Landlord has acted Mr.Punctual and made away with Xxx Euros in lieu of the other sets of keys in my possession. It was either the money or the passport and Rohit has played the valiant knight in shining armour.
Destiny
As Arjuna makes his way back after the Ashvamedha Yagna, he comes across a city being looted by bandits. He, the wielder of the Gandiva, conqueror of Bheeshma, Karna and other stalwarts is reduced to another common archer as all the astras and powers obtained prior to the War desert him at this juncture. Sage Vyasa explains that the astras had fulfilled their purpose and would no longer be at his command. As with Arjuna’s astras, so with my astras: the keys get lost right at the end. The three month TMB pass obtained at a 15% discount under the guise of an under-21 student, after serving diligently on tram, bus and metro fails to work for that one last time, as I insert it into the turnstile at Catalunya.
First Love
1830, 22nd September,
Nevertheless a long distance has been travelled – from MTR and margheritas to sabji and sambhar, from Lisbon to Vienna and from Amsterdam to Rome, from blank hard disk to fifteen ripped DVDs, and from hola brownie to adios amigos. A little more purpose (less surfing and more listening in class), a little more intimacy (with other ESADE students,
But these have been the days, 23, alive and footloose on the Continent. There’ll be other times, and there’ll be more fun, but like a first love (I imagine), the days chronicled in these Diaries will remain close to heart, forever.
Extras
DVDs come with all kinds of extra content: trailers, interviews, computer games, music, outtakes, commentaries, the works. With a movie that connects with you, the extra content is a treasure trove. With other movies, the extras are just so much more trash.
Well, the analogy is so flawed it isn't one, but like so much more trash after the real thing, the last few entries in the Diaries will fill in the missing pieces – accounts of the Austria-Germany trip, the Madrid-Lisbon trip and other sundry ramblings.
Boring, because the lights of Barca fade away even as I write and life back at B awaits impatiently, but it’s got to be done, ya know, just for the completeness of the thing. In the meanwhile Bye, Bye Barca...