Dusseldorf in Photos and a Sad Story

Dusseldorf in Photos

Dusseldorf is the most boring city until about 6 o'clock. Then it gets really really not boring.

A Sad Story

Now, this blog is meant to be a tale of the whimsy, magic and wonder of adventure. For adventure is indeed whimsical, magical and wonderful. But then, sometimes it's not. Sometimes it's scary and kind of messed up. So I'm now going to write about something very unpleasant. I encourage those of my readers who don't want to experience the unpleasantness to read no further.

I pondered for a long time over whether I should include this story in my blog. I didn't want its negativity to ruin the otherwise superbness that this trip has been. But something is telling me that this is important to share. Maybe the knowledge that this kind of thing happens will empower a future victim to react better and faster than I did. If I'd recovered faster from my shock, I could have, and should have, left my seat and found an alarm button to press. I could have, and should have, snapped a photo of this guy so that I could actually have something to take to the police, so that they could arrest him and keep him from doing it again.

Zelda Stormcrow Dreamchaser? She would have chased him down and kicked his teeth in.

As it happened, I was not prepared, and here is my story.

You're a young lady heading southbound on the S6 from Düsseldorf to Köln. You're almost half done your trip through Europe, and you're on top of the world. Adele is singing her classic tunes to you thanks to Apple Inc. Little do you know that as soon as your car empties save for you and one other man, that man is going to pull his penis out across the aisle from you and start masturbating, trying to get you to look over at him as he does. You listen furiously to the songs on your iPod and pretend the rolling countryside outside the window fascinates you, pretend that Adele's songs have you so enthralled you can do nothing at all but casually bob your foot to the beat, as in the corner of your eye, the man continues to beat his rod and say, "Hallo? Hallo?" to you. Your alarm increases when he moves a seat closer and leans toward you, still trying to get your attention. You look down and can watch your shirt twitch over your heart because it's pounding so hard. The smell of semen makes you want to vomit.

At last, he disappears. You scarce dare to hope as you glance at the seat he just vacated. Your head swings around and your chest fills with relief as you see other people's faces populate the train. It's over, he's gone. Or is he? You spend the rest of the train ride staring suspiciously at the faces of the men in the train, wondering if it's him, if he stayed on the train to watch you calm yourself down, take a swig of water, try to keep from shaking so much. You wonder if you were in danger a moment ago. You can tell the other passengers nearby are wondering why that girl just wiped a few tears from her eyes.

You just got sexually harassed. How did it feel?

Another reason to have included this story is its conclusion. I got off the train, walked through the crowded streets of Cologne, was directed to a box office by smiling desk attendants, bought a ballet ticket for tomorrow night from a smiling ticket saleswoman, was served a strange pizza-like food and wonderful Cologne beer by a smiling server. And I smiled too.

The End.

PS: Go f*** yourself, man. And not in public this time.

Dusseldorf: Snapping Out of It; and, Every Beer Has a Story

I confess, for most of yesterday and today, I've been languishing in a shameful and inexplicable moroseness and ennui. I have certainly done my tourist's duty and gone to see some sights, but not with my usual joie de vivre. I've also spent unforgivable amounts of time reading in the hostel. Just today I ploughed through the entirety of Amélie Nothomb's Hygiene and the Assassin, which I pretended was to steep me more fully in Belgian identity but was truly me hiding from Dusseldorf.

However, I hereby declare this the end of it. Tomorrow I shall gambol about the streets like the silly wandering girl that I am! Besides, Zelda has been insufferable and I can't take her whining about wanting to go and play outside any longer.

With that, I at long last unveil my conquests in beer, excluding today's delicious altbier on the harbour accompanying currywerst and fries, which I will share in our next episode. As a disclaimer, my palate is not very well-trained - forgive me if my descriptions are off the mark.

Copenhagen

 

G. Menabrea e Figli Amber

This is, of course, not Danish but Italian, given the restaurant my friends chose was a Pizzeria called Gorm's. It was quite tasty: sweet without being very malty, highly carbonated, and medium hop presence.

Dynamo Viking Red Ale

As soon as I took a sip, I thought, "This tastes like home," which was fitting because I was meeting up with my friend and former roommate Shawn and his travelling partner, who serendipitously were passing through Copenhagen that very night. It had a very strong hop presence which countered and nearly overpowered the medium malty sweetness. For those familiar with Hop City's Barking Squirrel from Brampton, ON, these beers could be twins. Only one is brewed by a rapidly expanding Canadian brewery and the other by a smallscale brewpub in Copenhagen called Fermentorum. It was the bartender's own recipe, although I'm still not sure if he was pulling my gullible tourist's leg.

Amager Batch 500 IPA

Although claiming to be an IPA, this beer had wheat written all over it, with its clear, sharp and effervescent taste and creamy, slow-dissipating head. But, the essential medium to high hop presence of an IPA was certainly there as well.

Brasseries des Sources Biere Blonde Extra

This beer accompanied my first serious dinner of my trip. Again, not a Danish beer, but an award-winning French. And man, did it deserve its gold medal. I always love a beer that is both unique and well-executed. It had a floral aroma and was herbal, light and medium-carbonated. The balance was unbelievable.

Braunstein Brewery Porter

I had already taken a few deep swigs of this unusually light-tasting porter when I glanced casually at the label and was shocked to see it packs a hefty 7% underneath its dark colour and crisp, subdued flavour. It sported almost no creaminess but did have some sour notes and carried an unmistakable rye quality. A nice Canadian couple noticed what I was drinking and offered me a piece of the chocolate bar they were sharing. I automatically declined - as I always do, its a personality tic I still haven't shaken - but did strike up a night-long friendship with them as we discussed their travels through Asia, our shared French Canadian heritage and swapped stories about Rob Ford.

Braunstein Brewery Classic

The hop was a strong presence in both the aroma and the taste, yet finished clean and light with almost no linger flavour, and carbonation was also surprisingly absent.

Hamburg

St. Pauli Brewery Astra

Astra is 'The Hamburg Beer,' and St. Pauli Brewery is named after the district in which my hostel was located. This was my first German beer of the trip (I'm ignoring that ridiculous pilsner I drank back in Denmark), and it did not disappoint. It was effervescent and light but overall full in flavour, and finished clean. Its aroma was faint blend of malt and hop, as was its taste. Overall quite balanced, leaning slightly toward hoppy.

Konig Pilsener

I had been wandering the streets of Hamburg for what felt like days. I had started performing a little dance that I seem to do on days when I'm feeling particularly timid: though I was craving a beer like a fire craves wood, I would sidle by every single bar that I came across, eyeing it shyly and concluding after long moments of tortuous indecision that it didn't 'feel right.' I finally chose this dumpy little pub with two tables covered in cheap plastic tablecloths outside underneath an overhang. It was conspicuously empty, cluttered to the point of being an antique shop, light could barely get through the unwashed windows, and the old bartender didn't even look up from his newspaper when I came in and stood awkwardly in front of the bar.

I stammered out, "I just need a beer." He replied, "Konig Pilsener?" and I accepted. I watched as his tap spewed out a pint's worth of foam, and when he noticed me watching, he told me I could go and sit oustide and he'd bring it to me.

Sure enough, I waited about five minutes before he came out with the beer, which tasted as flat as pita bread and had a tell-tale mount of head that sat an inch or two above the rim of the glass.

And yet, when you're craving a beer, even the most sloppily presented pilsener can taste like a life-giving elixir. It was clear, light and bitter like a pilsener should be, but I tasted the classic sourness of a badly maintained draught line. I pretended it was a hint of lemon and enjoyed every drop.

Flensburger Pilsener

My hostel in Hamburg had a great beer selection. This pilsener was the best I've had to date - frothy white head, bitter hop flavour, carbonated and very effervescent with a crisp, clean finish.

Flensburger Dunkel

This was prickly and light, with a strong malt aroma and flavour. It finished with a pleasant mix of sweetness but with a surprise appearance of hop.

Franziskaner Weissbier

This was the beer I drank on my 'date night' described in my last post. It was terrific - sweet, refreshing, very effervescent, and a hop-dominated aroma. I'm sure I've had it back in Canada.

Dusseldorf

Frankenheim Altbier

My first experience with Dusseldorf's famous Altbier. I fell in love in an instant. So smooth, so hoppy, and yet finished so malty! I am, after all, a true romantic: What's love if it's not complicated?

Uerige Altbier

Another good one, with notes of copper and toast and a noticeable hop presence. It was quite bitter but delicious.

Hamburg Part 2: Date Night(s?)

It occurred to me at some point yesterday that this vacation of mine has essentially been me taking myself on wonderful dates every single day.

Yesterday was kind of ridiculous.

I went kayaking on the canals around Alster for several hours and was hopelessly lost the whole time but didn't care because I was kayaking on canals in Hamburg. Then, because I had gotten myself a transit day pass, I picked a random part of town I hadn't seen yet and went there. I was hungry so I grabbed some Chinese food and wandered into a park with this amazing fountain.

I freshened up at the hostel and enjoyed a nice, refreshing wheat beer, and then headed to the theatre to catch a movie. This theatre was super classy and had a lounge to sit in before the movie, and I was early so I ordered a cocktail and sat back, feeling classy. The movie was excellent - though unfortunately dubbed over in German so I missed most of the dialogue.

I am not making this up. When I left the theatre, it had just rained and there were still a few scattered drops here and there, making the mostly empty streets glisten. There was a man not far away playing the accordion as I waited for my bus. Once i got on, throughout the whole ride home, a fireworks show went on outside the windows.

Seriously. Throw in a beautiful man who walks me home and kisses me goodnight gently but confidently and you've got half a Nicholas Sparks movie.

Mälmo and Hamburg: A Photo Update

Mälmo

My photos really don't do the city justice. A really unique and confusing and wonderful place. And now, the first 2 days of...

Hamburg

This whole sign just killed me. No ice cream or French fries! And that there was no way to show a picture of chewing gum.

Hamburg Part 1: Mind Over Body

Until today, my body shared my mind's enthusiasm for adventure and discovery. But a week has now gone by since I left home, and my body has started to lag behind. Minimal food, erratic sleep and wandering in the heat and sunshine day after day has caused it to protest beyond the scattered sunburns I got from the beach in Amager on Saturday. Small blisters have formed on the outside edges of my feet that not even my fancy Merrel shoes could prevent, and today I began to tire after only four hours of walking instead of my usual six to eight. It's also been demanding more frequent and larger portions of food.

Thus, here I am, back at the hostel by 3 and devouring all the food in my immediate vicinity. Mind and body are now in a heated argument over what we will all get up to tonight. Mind is pushing for a rock concert. Body insists on a quiet night on the patio with a book. I've decided not to get involved.

My hostel, by the way, is a palace next to the one in Copenhagen, and no more expensive (in fact, less so, because I don't have to pay for pillows and linen!)

The back patio

The view from my window. I feel so European when I lean out of it.

The bar