Schöne Ferien...

I'm just going to use this little post to fill in the not-insignificant 'Vorlesungsfreiezeit' between middle of February and the start of April, where I decided to hop around Europe somewhat.

  

First stop was Prague, setting off from Lille at stupid o'clock in the morning to get a flight from Brussels. I have to say my heart sank somewhat when, dressed in a light jacket and not much else, the screen at Charleroi Airport at 7am informed us that the weather in Prague at that time was minus 14 and snowing. Curse those Siberian winds. For some reason we boarded the plane anyway, and braced ourselves. Luckily it had warmed up to a comfortable minus 10 by the time we got there so that was one worry out of the way.

Prague pendulum

Yeah anyway, the city was good - a highlight of which being the slightly confusing 'communist memorial' which was just some massive metronome on the top of a hill, supposedly representing the constant change in Prague - communism, being out of communism, being in the EU, that sort of thing. To be honest I'd have preferred the Stalin statue that it replaced, but that's just personal taste I guess.

The castle was also massively impressive, although somewhat spoiled by our constant need to hop from warm cafe to warm cafe, and that was only topped by a boat ride along the Vltava river, complete with many free cups of Glühwein, French children screaming 'Mustafa' at any ducks we saw, and a near-Titanic moment with the floating ice blocks in the river

There's a pub called Leeds!

And a Platz called Leeds!

From there I flew to Cologne, then directly to Düsseldorf (Weeze) to pick up my friend Rowan (yes, I know...). Weeze is a complete piss-take of an airport, it calls itself Düsseldorf when in fact it lies on the dutch border and Dortmund airport is actually closer to Düsseldorf. But Ryanair fly to Leeds return for a little more than a 12 year old's weekly pocket money, so can't complain too much. In the three hours it takes to Dortmund we got a bit tanked up on vodka then went straight to Silent Sinners indie club at 1am. Yep, Rowans have more fun. Afterwards we did most of the things on my standard English guide to Dortmund, with the extra Yorkshire element of a visit to Platz Von Leeds and The Leeds Pub, which Rowan was maybe a little too excited about...

Sean and Nathan, pre-sick

From that excitement it was on to Neckargemünd, near Heidelberg, to visit my uncle there. The trip consisted mostly of eating schnitzel every day, conquering an icecream made from (and served in) half a pineapple, and seeing off my mate Sean who's leaving his year abroad in Heidelberg by getting him completely pissed for his midnight coach journey and forcing him to spend his last hours in Germany inside a coach toilet. That's what friends are for I guess. We also rode the Bergbahn which is truly awesome, it climbs nearly 500m up to the hill overlooking Heidelberg and the steepness makes you feel like you really are ascending into heaven or something. Either way, it's scary stuff.

View from Bergbahn into Heidelberg

Luxembourg

From there me and Jess drove to Luxembourg, which had weirdly always been a bit of an ambition of mine. It's a strange old town - divided into the 'upper town' where everyone lives and the 'lower town', which is basically a river cutting right through with cliff faces on either side. Once we figured how our way around the four languages (English, French, German, and Luxembourgish, who knew?) we had a reet good time, but it feels like a country stuck between bigger neighbours and therefore lacking a bit of identity. But what do I know.

Never knowingly underdressed

Back to Deutschland then, and just in time for the Cologne Carnival. Carnival is a big deal here, which starts at 11.11am on 11^th November (they clearly have different ways of dealing with their history) and goes on until early March in most places. The whole weekend had stuff going on, but we were there for Rosenmontag, the final day. That basically consists of people dressing up, getting pissed on the streets, and watching a parade of many variations on traditional costumes, ropey political messages (Google Street View No Thanks!) a lot of sweets being thrown out, and slightly creepy old men giving roses out to good-looking women in exchange for a rose. Was slightly disappointed not to get one myself but I guess I’m just not attractive to old men. Shame. After the parade we stocked up on drinks from the kiosk, before heading to Friedensplatz to see the most awesome rhythm band I think I’ve ever seen. That might have been due to the lethal mix of beer and sugar rush though – lethal.

Political statements...

...and bizarre drumming bands

Last but by no means least I popped on a plane to see my mates Emma and Dan from Maths in Sheffield in Madrid. They both do basically the same Uni course as me and the idea was to show me what I could have had if I’d studied Spanish at school instead of German. Thursday night was St. Paddy’s, so the English contingent was out in force. Not sure I met a single Spanish person there, nor did I drink any Guinness, but I went into a huge club in the centre of Madrid with a shamrock on my face so I feel I represented there.

The next day we headed to Valencia for Las Fallas, although we were lucky to even get there after booking coach tickets for Valencia Don Juan – a completely different town in completely the opposite direction from Madrid. Las Fallas is a funny little tradition which basically involves huge wooden statues being set up all over the city, which are rather ugly and grotesque if truth be told, and then (thankfully) burned in a huge ceremony on the Saturday. The rest of the time is passed by setting off fireworks and annoying little bangers everywhere you go, to which we had to do what I presume gangsters have to do and just get used to the constant banging sounds.

From this...

...to this

After being awed by the biggest fire I think I’ve ever seen in my life, which towered over the 5-story luxury apartments surrounding it, we celebrated a bit, toasted churros in the glowing embers, and then retired to the beach to make a somewhat pathetic fire and see one of the most amazing sunrises I think I’ve ever seen, the sun coming up like some fiery UFO from the horizon over the sea. It was a bit special I have to say.

Ooooh, get us.

As I final treat I got to see the man, the legend himself on my last day back in Madrid – only my namesake King Juan Carlos! He was just popping by for a meeting or something, so I had to pay tribute to the man who gave me my ridiculous middle name. The rest of the time was just occupied with wandering around the parque del buen retiro, and eating ham and tomato bread things, which was by no means a bad thing.

Not bad all in all, and sorry if this has been really boring, but I’ve had to remind myself of all the good things I’ve done in this lecture-free time to comfort myself with when I’m still here revising into August…

Birthdays, Balls-ups, Brits, and Bye-Byes...

It's obvious that I've been spending the past couple of weeks back in England, cause my alliteration skillz are right out of the top drawer today...

The big reveal...

You join me back in January, and while I generally try to focus on German, and more specifically Dortmund things in this blog, what with the title being about Dortmund and all that, I think Jess' (Jess being my girlfriend who's teaching in Lille, for those who don't know me) birthday deserves a very honourable mention. As showed by my own vaguely ridiculous birthday goings-on, we English take 21st Birthdays quite seriously, and this was no exception. My attempts to buy a table in French were pathetic (uuhhh, je voudrais une table pour neuf personnes á douze heure... non, c'est pas deux heure... uhh vous ne comprenez pas, c'est vrai? Parlez-vous anglais?) but luckily they finally found someone who spoke English, and Jess was knocked off her socks by being met by practically her whole family sat in an unassuming Créperie in downtown Lille. Couple that with a party spent bellowing along to the, ahem, finest in 90s 'classics', and you've got a pretty damn fine way of seeing in your 22nd year, which was only somewhat sullied by the pathetic human being that is Andy Murray in the Australian Open final, but can't win them all I guess. Oh and Blazin' Squad and Afroman are of course considered as classics in our book.

After that, there was just one week left before the end of term. Finally. The end of term at the start of February signals the start of the Vorlesungsfreizeit, literally lecture-free time. This two month 'break', which has only just ended, is kept free for oral and written exams, work experience, and resits for the exams taken at the start of the Vorlesungsfreizeit which you've inevitably failed. All very well you might say, and it gave me plenty time to mooch around Europe a bit, but it means that this term doesn't finish until the 15th of July, plus god knows how much extra time for exams and whatnot. They really make you earn your degree here.

Another happy Currywurst customer...

...and another happy yoghurt
man customer

Before all that, there was time for Bradshaw to come, and for me to work on my standard weekend plan for guests in Dortmund - what with there not being an awful lot to do here I need a schedule to keep people entertained. He'd come to experience the legendary atmosphere for Dortmund vs Schalke 04, only to find that in a particularly strange display of schadenfreude, the match had been organised for Friday night (imagine 40000 scousers finishing work for the week, necking a pint or five, and going to the Merseyside derby...) meaning we pretty much missed the whole thing. To show that the gods do like us after all, the match finished a dull 0-0. Take that, Polizei. From there it was on to the first of many many 'bye-bye' parties for brazilian Gigi, not getting in (once again) to the stuck up Nightrooms in town, and ending up headbanging to Rammstein in a German metal bar. As you do.

So yeah, the schedule has basically become: go out on Friday night, wander to the massive market at the Uni on Saturday and buy a bag full of yoghurt from the man I've inventively titled 'yoghurt man', watch the football in town, celebrate with a beer and a currywurst, then go out again. Having sampled practically all Dortmund has to offer (the monorail is saved for Monday), I then suggest we go somewhere else on Sunday, which this time was Aachen - a lovely city near to the border with Holland, which requires little imagination to see why it's such a big student city.

Getting down and dirty with some strange sculpture in Aachen

My revision for my French exam on the Monday basically consisted of me and Bradshaw having nonsensical arguments in French on various topics such as where the chemist is, and how much you should be allowed to charge for a kilo of oranges in a market, when I would have been better off learning how to tell the time. In the end, the outstandingly stupid mistake of turning up half an hour late to an exam paid off as I could do the listening part of the test sat right up next to the stereo. Clearly such tardiness is encouraged by the French, had it been a German exam the result might well have been somewhat different.

An emotional last Mensa meal

The only other exam was Statistik III, generously organised for a Friday evening 17.00-20.00. Despite revising (fairly) solidly for a couple of weeks with actual Germans, the actual exam was a total nightmare, which I ended up failing. Not that it really mattered too much, since Sheffield will just add a few and times by two to give me a respectable mark, and since it gave me an excuse to get truly drunk for another bye-bye party, this time for Dora from Budapest, one of my best friends here and really a friend of everyone due to just being really open and friendly with everyone from all the diverse countries we have here, and always up for a laugh. Sometimes I wish I was more like that but then I remember I'm English and we live our strange little island life and are generally a bit wary of foreigners, I guess I can't be blamed for that...

Perfect post-exam relaxation (note the Deutschland belt)

The party (what I remember of it after eating the sum total of 20 little pretzel sticks as dinner) was of course amazing, as many of them were, with nearly everyone coming to say goodbye and give her a proper send-off. In that time most of the guests ended up in a heap on the bed, I formed a band with, well, anyone and everyone, and Las Ketchup was played. As good as it was, having good-bye parties inevitably ends up with having to actually say goodbye, which is not so good. After saying goodbye to Dora at the airport and Croatian Petra a week later, that meant all four girls (including Belgian Nada and Brazilian Gigi) from my main friendship group were gone, and left me with the realisation that all I had left was the few remaining guys, and a load of Germans to hang out with. Somewhat depressing in anyone's book, but there you are.



All that was left after all that was to go on holiday, but I guess you'll have to wait until next time I can be bothered to read about all that. Now there's a cliffhanger for you...