When I planned my trip, I thought it would be interesting to get around by train rather than taking airplanes and spending time waiting in the airport that could be used to watch the countryside. I booked a Eurrail pass for France and Germany with four travel days. The ticket was delivered to me about a month before departure, but I did not read through the instruction guide.
I did not realize until two days before my flight that I would need to make reservations nearly a month in advance for the trains between France and Germany. They could not be reserved electronically for some reason, so I had to cross my fingers that there would still be places left on the days that I had planned to travel by train (otherwise I'd have a little crisis on my hands related to hostel reservations).
Getting to Munich was causing me the most anxiety (but I use "anxiety" loosely, because really, whatever happened happened and I shouldn't waste energy being worried about an outcome I didn't have to problem solve yet). I walked into the train station that I knew had several trains with only one change directed to Munich, and spoke with one of the representatives. I was overjoyed when he told me I could take the train I had been hoping for, but then he gave me the bad news that it was booked up, and told me that instead I would need to take a route with at least three trains.
I had two and half hours before the first leg of my journey and I didn't think there wold be a place to leave my backpack, so I wandered through the area surrounding the train station until I found a park where I could read the book downloaded from my library onto my tablet. Libraries are so wonderful!
The first train was to Strasbourg. I got on the train with plenty of time to find my seat and I was excited because I was sitting next to the window and facing the right direction. I knew it was my seat. A woman approached me after the train had started moving to tell me that I was in her seat.
In the split second I had to make a decision about how to react, my body had already decided to cede my place to her. It occurred to me that the company had possibly double-booked the seat, but now I was at a loss to decide where I should sit. I rechecked my ticket, pointedly, and the men that had shared the space with me watched me. I walked up and down the cabin and back to the same spot. She took no notice. Possibly she had already put on her sunglasses and gone to sleep. I don't remember. I only remember that I resented her because I resented the way I had given up my place without defending myself. When they came to check tickets, there was some sort of problem with hers, but they didn't ask her to move places. And they didn't ask me to move places either, even though I'd taken up residence in the seat diagonal from her (not next to the window and now moving backwards). The ticket checker, which is a very official name that I just assigned to this gentleman, felt bad for me because I was Anglophone and clearly stupid and helped me properly fill out my Eurrail pass.
Strasbourg to Mannheim went off without a hitch. Mannheim had been on my bucket list of places to visit because some of my ancestors lived in that region of Germany. I didn't get to see any of it, except for the glimpses out the window, but it was still cool to me because I am extremely nerdy about genealogy. However, the German train station layout is not as user-friendly as the French system. In France, there are central monitors that show each departing train and the platform it is leaving from through the train station. In Germany, you have you walk by each platform to see which train is leaving from there and hope that it is yours. I had 9 scheduled minutes between my train's arrival and the next train I needed to catch (I don't know if my arriving train was late). Naturally, I missed my connection.
I spoke to the woman at the service desk and after ascertaining that she spoke "a little" English, she booked a new reservation for me in 45 minutes. Meaning I would arrive at least an hour later than I had already anticipated arriving in Munich. Which was at least 5 hours later than I had hoped to arrive.
Germans that tell you they only speak "a little" English are lying. Their English is excellent. Don't believe them. I think that's what they must be taught to say in school when someone asks if they speak English. If someone asked me if I spoke Spanish, I would say "a little" because all I remember how to say is that my dad is a farmer and my mum is an insurance agent. When Germans say they speak "a little" English, they can have entire conversations and understand you perfectly.
I rewarded myself for not crying in the middle of the train station with gelato. I did not manage to order it in German, so I would answer "Do you speak German?" with an English "no".
Possibly I was feeling so annoyed with myself about not having made a train reservation in the first place, that I decided to make the most of the time I had in Munich that night. I showered, put on my favourite dress, and even did my makeup before I walked back to the train station to find dinner. I used the Google Translate app on my phone to try to decipher a menu at "Asiahung". Each time I found a vegetarian option and tried to order it, the man told me no. Finally, he told me which options were available and we figured something out.
Back at Jaeger's Hostel, I took a seat at the bar and ordered a drink based on the bartenders recommendations. I was contemplating how to best go about making friends when I began to overhear an American talking about politics, and I knew that this was my best chance. I clumsily introduced myself into the conversation and made the acquaintance of Harrison, a California man studying in Washington, D.C., and Jason, a medical student from Hong Kong. It was a fascinating conversation, but after a while the boys decided to grab a pizza at the end of the street, promising to come back. In the meantime, Josie, Jessica and Morgan were waxing poetic about their love for the bartender (who really was the sweetest woman) and introducing themselves to her. So I introduced myself to them. And then we were friends! When Harrison and Jason came back from pizza, the ladies' friend Tyler joined them and we all made a plan to find somewhere to dance. Yessss! Jason promised me that he would make sure I made it back to the hostel safely.
I don't know if this is true of all Munich clubs, but at this one, the DJ alternated between remixed classics, Drake songs, and rap/hip-hop music from the early 2000s (The Real Slim Shady, Golddigger). I was in the zone. At one point, I overheard a German man tell his friend that I was Vanilla Ice. I knew all the words. I danced all the dances.
We stayed out quite literally until the sun came up, and when I sneaked into my dorm room in the hostel at 5am, I passed out in my dress, not wanting to wake the others.
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