Just Get Lost

[July 10] If you know one thing about me, it’s that I don’t know where I’m going. After getting lost on the way from Frankfurt, I got lost in Bonn itself (I like to call it an exploration) and then in my own host family’s village (a sight-seeing excursion in itself), and I might have gotten lost on Norderney if the fun folks who were with me didn’t have some sense. But I think I’ve settled with the notion that losing oneself is the point. Even if it takes a pair of aching feet, a dwindling ipod battery, and a few extra euros to get there, it’s kind of part of the adventure. Once you find yourself again, you really know where you are.

Norderney was, in short, beautiful. The sea between the island and Norddeich Mole was calm and green and windless, the birds complacent and the walruses lazy. One herring with onions and potatoes later, we were bare-footing the coast of the North Sea, precariously avoiding razor-like seashells through water as cold as ice.

We took a look around the IfR Klinik, where people with physical disabilities and injuries are rehabilitated by a goofy and outspoken woman who seems to take too much pleasure in the discomfort of others. After a few hours of rehab toys and giant balance balls, the group went to the beach. I and a few others were hunger-grumpy, so we went to a seaside restaurant called Cornelius, where the cook translated ‘Fish and Chips’ to fries and Rotbarsch Eihülle, one of the most expensive fish on the menu. Nonetheless, it was delicious.

Then, the Wattwanderung. It was a short hike through the rolling dunes of Wadden wetland wilderness, followed by five kilometers from there to the mainland. The slosh and slurp of mud pulled heavily on our trusty Miley Cyrus zebra print high-tops, even in the inches-deep streams of low tide. The rainy breeze cooled my out-of-shape heart and burning calves while we watched mussels bury themselves in the sand and two crabs “doing it!”.

Saturday morning started with a one-a.m. taxi ride after getting lost at midnight in Bonn again, then a short nap during the wee-hours and a train to Düsseldorf. I lost my way in the (luckily small) Japanisch Viertel before sitting down for some Kirin and delightful miso ramen. Then I got my hands on a map (one of the greatest inventions of all time, my opinion) I managed to find the beautiful and comic Altstadt, the old town near the river where every building has a personality and a dream, and statues of fools dance on every corner. The afternoon ended with an alt bier; I am not afraid to say that it is the best one I’ve had so far, despite what my new friends in Köln say.

I spent the evening in Köln to watch the Kölner Lichter over the Rhine, one of the largest and most spectacular fireworks shows on this side of the world (or so I’ve heard). There were so many people stacked on top of each other near the river, but I had a bratwurst and loads of fun. Everywhere I turned, the polizei wore berets and walked akimbo, gripping their belts like they know what’s up, forbidding you to rush towards the show when you realize you've reserved your valuable seat on the wrong part of the river. In the midst of it all, I met two hearty German men, Wolfgang and Harmon, who did not know a word of English but managed to share their drinks with me, teach me a few songs (which I have subsequently forgotten), and tell me what a travesty it was to enjoy an alt bier.

And I actually managed to get home at a reasonable hour, having officially (or at least sufficiently) mastered the Bonn public transport system.