This article, which contains “R” rated content, is a continuation of my trip that began in Bonn for academic purposes, and continued forth to Berlin, and later, Oświęcim to visit Auschwitz. I distinctly recall an ex-girlfriend (can’t remember which, unfortunately) scrunching her face in confusion at my mentioned desire to visit such a death churn; likely the same face I’d make when she’d want to visit someplace beautiful. The majority of my life at the time of the scrunching was encased in a deep mental fixation on familial issues. In the military they call this “target fixation”; where you move towards your eyes’ fixation, regardless if moving to such a location would cause you harm. The familial issues were all-pervading, one you could not help but steer into even with your hands off the wheel – like being told to “get out of the water” in the middle of the ocean. I do not intend to marginalize the horrors of Auschwitz and suffering of that time, though I believe my interest in visiting such a place stems from being trapped in my own familial pressure cooker for over 24 years, not knowing if, when, or how it would end. It ended in gruesome death, and a consequent sour relief. With these problems now long vanished, the sensations and emotions linger on. Ex-girlfriend could never understand this. Let us move on.
25/03/2023
On the train from Bonn, I oscillated between sleep and wake. Arriving in Berlin, we realized its overwhelming size; bigger, noisier, and tourist-filled. Too wide, too loud, somewhat Americanized, and scattered; surely beautiful in the summer shared with a loved one. I acknowledge my perspective is one of a quiet person, making generalized statements from small encounters. Do not mistake my grumpy first-take as a dismissal of the entire city. At the time of arrival it presented a stark contrast to Bonn, which aligned more with my character; smaller, quieter, and undisturbed, much how I like my life. At the first traffic light, I looked up at noticed a strange figure. I turned to Anis and asked, “Did you notice something strange about the green pedestrian traffic light?” to which he responded, “No!”. A closer look revealed what I named L’Homme Excité; a green man who indicates pedestrian right-of-way by exposing his erect and eager green penis. Don’t believe me? Check the images below. Something tells me it isn’t healthy to be seeing genitals in traffic lights.
Being unfamiliar with the public transportation system in Berlin, we walked an hour to our AirBnB, dropped our stuff, and went out towards the Jewish Memorial. On our way, we stopped at the Berlin Fernsehturm, which Anis was keen on ascending. I was too weak-kneed to enter, so Anis and I split. My deathly fear of heights severely limits my experience of life. What will it take to overcome this silly fear? I forced myself to grow accustomed to looking out the airplane window this trip, an embarrassingly giant step for me.
I headed to the St. Marienkriche church instead, where I walked into a choir and music group rehearsing for their show later that night. It was euphonious; what power imbues our spirit by witnessing the great consequence of human practice and focused effort. Once Anis’ ride up the Fernsehturm was over, we re-joined towards the Jewish Memorial. The memorial felt scattered and did not have the effect it intended, or any at all. Perhaps it is my insensitivity, but the Wikipedia article is quite ambiguous on its meaning as well. I walked around in perpendicular lines between the monuments surrounding me, but my simple brain could not grasp the reason. Up the street was a climate-change protest, with a stage, police, and protesters. It concerned itself with the “issue” of lethargic climate change policy within government. All the best. Next was the nearby Brandenburg Gate. Beautiful, yet somehow I was not touched by it. Not that it owes that to me. Next was a restaurant where we met the “Soup Nazi” (Seinfeld reference) equivalent working at the Turkish Döner Kebab Restaurant; a man in grey hair that would not crack a smile worth a shit. He would say, “Sir, please” after giving you all of three seconds to decide your order. Made everyone uncomfortable. Please find his image in the slideshow below, seen photobombing a woman on a Google Maps photo submission. We ended the night with delicious desserts at Abul Khaled, thanks to Anis. In particular, he had me try Kunefe. It is like a pancake with cheese in the middle, soaked moist with a sweet honey-like liquid. It is fucking delicious. Went home, and to sleep.
26/03/2023
We awoke and immediately planned to see the Charlottesburg palace, Pergonmuseum, and the Siegessäule (Victory Column). They’re all well connected via the BVG transport system (which is fantastic, by the way). Our AirBnB was just nearby to a metro station, and we could have gotten away with never paying for a ticket because of the lack of turnstyles and ticket-checkers. The Charlottesburg palace was utterly magical in its interior, with each piece of furniture finished to the minutest detail, including the door frames. The attendant was very apologetic about their “ridiculous” entry prices. I assured her Canadian museums would charge the same. We navigated each room, one larger and more ornate than the next. The most startling room is known as “The China Room”, with hundreds of collected China on display, with mirrors for multiplicative effect. A church was maintained in the palace, which is an incredibly display of majesty, by conveying the unity of kingdom and church (see the gold crown held up by angels). It is a strange thought that a historic state existed in which kings and queens inhabited enormous palaces, lived in extremely lavished condition, and bound painting, music, culture, religion, colour, finesse, and grandeur in both their spirit and assets.
We stopped off at the cute Zuchenzeit Cafe so I could stuff myself with a latte and chocolatine while my friend Anis watched with hungered Ramadan eyes, looking away as if my breaded treat were a woman’s supple breast. We got our asses on the U-train to head for Pergonmuseum. Its articles and monuments tell the story of Babylon and its magnificent architectural achievements, as well as covering Islamic art on the second floor. It isn’t worth describing such things here. One display reminds us of the miserable “rights” women had at the time.
Later, we climbed the Siegessäule, which had me feeling vertigo for a good portion climbing the steps; nevertheless I did it. On with the show. I will admit my knees were weak. Anis and I headed to a halal restaurant where he complained about all the food being “breakfast” styled. We finished at a cafe where I drafted the first email to my supervisor regarding my ideas and goals for the future. I may have been forwardly excited about my trip thus far, the emailing reading over-enthusiastically. Fuck it, however, as it is a rarity for me to feel invigorated to such a degree.
27/03/2023
This morning was slow. We packed our clothes, cleaned the apartment, visited the Berlin Wall, and Topography of Terror. The details of the visits are quite banal. Finally, we headed to the Berlin Airport to hop on the FlixBus to Poland (10:20 PM – 4:50 AM). On it, there were no English speakers; all Polish, including the driver. The feeling of minor terror came over me at the idea of being stuck and unable to communicate. One man of monstrous proportions entered the bus, sat in front of me and leaned his seat back nearly onto my lap, as if I were about to clean his teeth, to which I happy gestured in agreement as if to say, “please, take your rest however you wish, even at my inconvenience.” I polished and submitted the email to my supervisor during the ride, then nodded off and woke up in Katowice.
28/03/2023 – 29/03/2023
4:30 AM in Katowice was cold, and to be frank, I did not shake the cold that entire god damned day. We were confused as to how to find the station heading for Oświęcim, but with the help of an angry ticket attendant, we found our way. When I asked him if the train was still on schedule, he responded, “Departure board.” Then he fingered some sheets that I thought were meant to further clarify and answer my query. Wrong. He looked up, as if I were a bee still nervously buzzing about his nose after being swatted away, and yelled “DEPARTURE BOARD!” Good Christ.
It feels great to thrust yourself into unknown only for it all to work out smoothly. We got on that train and reached Oświęcim in about 50 minutes. The train ride foreshadowed cold into my heart as the landscape viewable from the window transitioned from somewhat gloomy, to fully-snowed. This was going to be a cold trip, and I only had a windbreaker, thin gloves, and a measly scarf. Thankfully I come from Montreal and have a backbone for it. At the train station in Oświęcim, I ordered a latte and melted bread-and-cheese sandwich. Ate, shat, and walked around with Anis until our 11:30 PM reservation at Auschwitz. One cannot overemphasize the importance of eating light during trips, forcing bowel movements through coffee, and always fully clearing oneself prior to inestimable hours of foot travel. One-hour before a long trek or visit, drink a coffee, and sit patiently for the storm to arise in your bowels. Once taken care of, you will be light on your feet… Back to sanity. The city is bare-bones, and at this time of year, feels quite uninviting. Most don’t speak English, and will whisk you away when possible; as they should.
The guided tour of Auschwitz-Birkenau is split in two. First is the tour of Auschwitz which takes you around various housings and exhibits; of interest are the collections of thousands of glasses, shoes of adults and children, named luggage left behind by the deceived, and an unpleasant amount of preserved hair removed from Jewish heads. I had not slept much in the past 3 days, and as I walked through the different establishments, freezing and exhausted, my body began to shut down. Every few minutes, while in mid-step, I would fall asleep, only to have my chin bang against my chest from the weight of my sleeping head, forcing my brain to counteract the sleep it just forced upon itself.
We also saw the Death Wall that was used as the backdrop to the execution of thousands of Jews, surrounded by sand for blood absorption. From here, we took a quick shuttle bus to Birkenau, which is many times larger than Auschwitz. It was absolutely enormous, wide, wind-exposed, and chilling. Half-way through our walk up the site, a chilly snowstorm overtook us, and at around 3*C with strong winds, it was quite unbearable; I could only imagine that location at the bone-chilling -20*C of winter, under SS watch. Awful, from start to finish. Our guide didn’t flinch.
The guide mentioned we should recall that each of us has the proclivity for this level of destruction given that only 3 European countries — Czech Republic, Greece, and Poland — refused to assist in SS-related efforts. The tour ended by a walk through the sleeping quarters, which have always been an interest of mine. Many slept directly on wood beds, and newer prisoners slept on the stone bottom level. With that, we grabbed the nearest shuttle back to Auschwitz, and from there, took a bus to the train station. The damn Oświęcim station does not carry a digital departures display, so you cannot tell if your train is delayed, and by how much time. Luck plays a large role in travel.
We arrived back in Katowice, and got on the long FlixBus ride back to Berlin (2:45 AM arrival). Form there, we took an Uber to Berlin Hbf and rustled around for 2.5 hours until 5:38 AM and boarded the ICE train to Paris. At this point, I had gathered roughly 4-5 hours of total sleep in 2-3 days, but the body does not stop! It is possible to go harder and faster when you need it. It made me realize I can and should work harder. Work weekends, workout harder, find ways to make more money, and constantly do more with your time. Here I am, sitting in Gare de Lyon, waiting alone for my train to Annecy, and I feel I am gaining the life-control I’ve always wanted. Everything is building up beautifully. Great quality interactions with everyone I meet, which is unheard-of in my life up to this point. It’s all changing so quickly and beautifully. YOU WILL NOT STOP.
I hope you’re enjoying my white-girl meanderings through Europe, but you are here reading this, a strange article without much direct purpose, meandering with your own time.
I will be continuing this narrative with a final post, where I document my visit to Annecy, France before returning home to Montreal.
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