Düsseldorf...Altbier and japanese culture..what a combination!

Although not far away from my hometown Cologne I have to admit that I never really cared for this city while I was living in Germany. I was happy in my own little world and there was no curiosity whatsoever on my part to see the Capital of North Rhine-Westphalia. Besides when you grew up in Cologne you had to listen to all those rivalries between the cities, which are separated by 40 km along the River Rhine. Actually the rivalry between those cities started centuries ago and it was mainly a commercial conflict. But over the years the beef reached ridiculous dimensions when they started arguing whose beer was better Altbier or Kölsch or who celebrated Fasching (sort of Mardi Gras) better. It got even worse when the English declared Düsseldorf as the Capital of North Rhine-Westphalia after WWII although Cologne was bigger.
So when I went to Düsseldorf this year to spend a week for the exhibition I had mixed emotions. I stayed at the Business Wieland Hotel in the city center and I must say it was simply perfect. The staff is really friendly trying to help you with any problem that you have. The rooms were beautifully designed and it had a very good location. Breakfast was great too. I enjoyed my conversations with the receptionists as they were great guys. Always friendly. So I have only good things to say about the hotel itself and if I should ever go back that will be the only hotel where I'd stay.
Düsseldorf was pretty cold but that didn't stop me from exploring the city. The 'Weihnachtsmarkt' was great and I drank some tasty 'Glühwein', which made me forget about the freezing weather.
One night we went to a restaurant called Riva at the harbour, where the food was great although a bit expensive. But the ambience was great and I was in good company so I could not bitch about anything. The 'Altstadt' of Düsseldorf is quite nice and worth a visit but not as nice as the one in Cologne.
However, one thing that Cologne has not is a Japanese quarter. Düsseldorf has one of the biggest japanese communities in Europe, which is based on the fact that there were a lot of Japanese companies. There are some splendid japanese restaurants where people cue up at lunch time.

So overall it was a nice experience except for the one I had at the REWA grocery store across the street of the Hotel where they confused me for a thief because I took a bottle of Vodka from the liquor cabinet and gave it to my friend who was going to buy it. One of the employees saw me taking the bottle and the next moment I didn't have it anymore so he must have thought another wino stealing our liquor. He came after me with his colleague asking where I had put the bottle of Vodka, which caught me by surprise. I got mad, yelling to them that they can't accuse me out of nowhere and showed them my friend who had the bottle in the shopping basket. The clerk got all red on his face and started to blubber apologies and he disappeared to his back-office faster than you could say 'asshole'!
So..Düsseldorf is nice..nice restaurants..nice people..but KÖLSCH-beer will beat Altbier anytime, anywhere. no arguments there!

just a collection of photos..

Revisiting Dubai...

Well, boys and girls..it is time again to write something about a city that I visited last week, although I am pretty sure no one really cares about my two cents here. but I will pester you anyways and invade a little bit more of that internet space..!
So, I took a flight with Turkish Airlines again on my way to Dubai, where I arrived at three in the morning. Dubai airport is big. So I had to walk miles to get to the passport controls where I had to wait another hour along with other hundreds of poor souls looking as shitty as I did.
As soon as you leave the exit door with your luggage in your hand you will be approached by a pirate-taxi who will ask you whether you need a ride. DO NOT FALL for them as they are more expensive than regular taxis. When you take a normal taxi you probably end up paying something between 10-15 USD to the city center, The other guys will rip you off and charge you 40-50 USD. I stayed at the World Trade Center Appartments, which are rental flats. As accomodations are quite pricey here this is a rather a good alternative.
Yes sir, Dubai is darn expensive. I am not a big Mall fan but I was told that I had to see the fountain show and the Burj Khalifa there so I went to Dubai Mall, which is huge. This place was built to attract consumers. All Dubai is just about consumption. Do I like it? No, but was it worth to see? definitely. It is astonishing to see what money can buy or build. Even the regular bus stops are equipped with air-conditioning, which makes sense due to the hot climate but unthinkable in most European countries.
You don't get to see to many Arabs while you're there. The city is populated with expats from all over the world and then there is a huge indian/asian immigration. While walking the streets I even had the sensation I was walking the street in Mumbai. Of course, you did not really think that the Arabs would build all those big buildings without their cheap labor force from the Far East, right?

But if you're into luxury, hedonism and mindless-consumption then Dubai is your place to be. I really felt like hitting the barman when he charged me 15 USD for a glass of Heineken.
I did not like it that much. Would I go see it a second time? Probably not. I had the impression the city was artificial without any soul. But hey, each to his/her own.

my first job in Barcelona..

In one of my previous blog entries I wrote about the time when I moved to Barcelona and my search for a job there. As you will remember, there were some pathetic attempts to get a proper job but in the end I managed to find something through friends as a court translator at the Court of Barcelona. So, let's do something different this time and let me tell you about that period in Barcelona. That was 02-03 so quite a while ago. I will always remember the first day I entered the building, passing through security and then going to the secretary to register myself. Of course, they were waiting for me as I was requested through the translation agency and they led me to a big room where I was welcomed by some officials who explained me what the case was about. I had to translate English-Spanish and viceversa as the detained person was from the Netherlands. He was caught with cocaine inside the bus at the border and was there for his interrogation. So I waited there, with the judge, secretary and the public prosecutor (called 'fiscal' in spanish) but no lawyer was present. I found that curious then but didn't think about it much.

Anyways, the police officers brought in the Dutch, who looked a bit scared as he was looking around trying to figure out where he was. I assumed he had spent the night under arrest in a wonderful little jail room called 'calabozo', which was one floor under the court building. They sat him on a chair, the judge sat at his desk and the public prosecutor just fired away with his questions as the secretary was typing everything on a old-fashioned typewriter (no computer!), one of the police officers stood by the door and the other one left the room.

- who is your contact person here in Barcelona?

- where did you get the drugs?

- why did say that the drugs weren't yours?

- if the drugs aren't yours, how come they were in placed in your seat? 

- for this amount of drugs you are facing at least 10 years in spanish lockup. do you know that? 

I tried to translate as fast as the prosecutor asked the questions. The Dutch really seamed nervous and was in a cold sweat. I hadn't imagined that an interrogation would take place like this. In the movies, it is always the police asking the questions, you know, the detainee sitting on the chair under a lamp. It wasn't like that at all. After translating what the dutch man had to say the prosecutor started again to fire away with the SAME questions!. This went on and on. In the end I got pretty tired repeating everything back and forth. At one point, the prosecutor stopped and told the police officer to take the man back to his cell. They thanked me for my services, which was a signal that we were done and that I had to leave. 

Not bad for a first day I thought. I went to the secretary to have the receipt signed and collect my cash. 

there's no place like home! this time for real!

I took some days off and flew back to Germany in order to visit my parents. I took my niece with me, who happens to be a black metal  fan14 year old teenager girl. I used to be a metal-head myself so I thought we would have some common ground to talk about. Boy was I wrong! I never heard any of the bands she was listening too and most of the times I had no clue what she was talking about. One time she tried to explain me the bands she liked, folk-metal she called it. Folk-metal?? really? there is a category called folk-metal? When did that happen???

When I started to name-drop all the cool bands like Tesla, White Lion, Skid Row, Buckcherry, Motley Crue all I received was empty, blank stares! Damn you Nirvana, for ruining a whole generation of brilliant music!!

I guess, generation gap caught hold of me. However, the flight itself was not so complicated. She had mostly her headphones on and was listening to some brutal guitar riffs while I tried to read my book.
Since my trip was not only for pleasure I had to drop off my niece at my parent's flat and go from there to various most interesting cities in Germany. But first of all, we went straight from the airport to my beatiful home town Unkel am Rhein. I'm proud to say that I was born there. It is one of the most beautiful towns along the river Rhine. And a very old one as well  with friendly people. It has a historical city center with traditional vineyards. There isn't much industry around except for some small factories in the neighbour-village so people concentrated on small art shops and wine-making here. Unkel is located right next to the river Rhine, 20 km south of Bonn. Very peaceful. If you ever get the chance to fly to Cologne don't hesitate to visit Unkel, you won't be disappointed. There are many things to see and to enjoy, so you will need time. There are one or two guesthouses and a nice hotel 'Rheinhotel Schulz' if you want to stay overnight. Also you won't go hungry there as there are splendid restaurants.

We even have a prision tower from the 17th century where allegedly Beethoven was incarcerated one night, however that could also be an urban legend to attract tourists. Anyways, I am going to listen to some good old rock music now and try to forget about folk-metal and the very fact that I'm getting old :-(

How time passes by...

There's no place like home...! Yeah, right!

I was going to write you about my trip to Rotterdam, Netherlands but since I didn't make it there this month I decided to make a change and write you something about the city I live in: ISTANBUL. I assume for all the tourists who come to visit this exotic city it must be exciting to see the Istanbulian in their day-to-day grind. However, for all us residents this son of a bitch of a city is a pain in the ass. Solitude is the biggest luxury in this city as there are currently 14 mio. people living on top of each other and hey that is the official nose count. I am pretty sure that the census takers do not go to every house in every district of this juggernaut city. And then you have the traffic! Sometimes I'm downright begging my wife that she hits me something hard, while I'm stuggling to get from point A to point B with our car in 2 hours, so I could be released from this hell. By the way, in most cases the distance between them points would be like 10 or 20 kilometers so any sane person would get mad here. This also explains the huge number of psychopaths in this city. Blessfully it is not that easy to obtain guns here as it is in the States, so the number of people killing each other through gun-violence in traffic is low. Interestingly though that most psychopaths here prefer to practice a certain profession. As if there is mutual understanding between psychopaths in this city almost all of them get to become taxi or bus drivers! So Turkey has a huge number of roadkill-victims. I'm telling ya: They are all mad, mad, mad!
And there is the government and their ridiculously high taxes. You even have to pay taxes for breathing dammit! Ok, I'm exageratting a bit but this is how the Istanbulian feel. But then again, this dumb shit of people get to vote every 4 years and who do they vote for? For the same fucking mayor! Anyways,
naturally as a resident doing your daily routine of job-home and home-job you only get a chance to enjoy this mega-village weekends. But guess what? there are 14 million lunatics who think the same way.
So what is left to talk about? I am not going to tell you about the typical sightseeing-shit like the Topkapi Palace with its spoonmakers diamond and the harem-debauchery or the mighty hagia sophia and its counterpart the blue mosque. I would like to tell you about the more interesting aspects of Istanbul, when it was indeed a metropole where different nationalities encounter and had cultural interchanges. Those encounters reflected itself in many forms. I, for my part, am interested in the encounter that comes through architecture. When you cross the Haliç-bridge with all its fishermen you arrive at Karaköy and to your right-hand side you will see the beautiful 'Karaköy-Palace' that was designed by the levantine architect Guilio Mongeri. As part of the levantine minority he was born in the Ottoman Empire in 1873 but died in Italy in 1953. He left his architectural heritance in different cities in Turkey but I am very fond of this building.

Of course there are buildings more beautiful than this one but I like the facade and how you can see the influences of different cultures in his design. That period was indeed culturally very rich. You had Levantine, Greek, Armenian, Turkish, Arabic, Jewish people living side by side. But as all good things come to end this era ended in the 50s when Turkey's nationalists movement made a hunt for all non-turkish and the good people had to flee so Istanbul can take in the east-anatolian invasion. Before there were operas and theaters but now we have kebap and döner shops. Makes you feel sad when you walk the Istiklal street and see the remains of the cultural heritance of an Ottoman empire that gave home to so many minorities.

Another favourite building of mine is in Eminönü and it's easy to oversee it since it is hidden in side-alleys but it is worth to look for it. This art-nouveau building was designed by german architect August Jachmund, who also contributed to various masterpieces such as the Sirkeci train station, which stylistically seen is a mess but still quite a sight. However the Deutsche Orient Bank speaks for itself. When you see the building among other oriental constructions you get the feeling that it is completely out of place since it has an appearance that rather belongs to Paris or Vienna or some city in Italy. August Jachmund was commissioned by Sultan Abdulhamid II to build the main train station that would welcome European travellers to the capital of the Ottoman Empire. With this task at hand he had to do something to impress the Sultan and designed this piece that is oriental to such an extent that it is already perverted. I do not know whether the Sultan liked it but it still stands to this day.
Anyways, later when he received the order to create something for the German Bank he let the creative european juices flow and designed this art-nouveau beauty. Sadly this building is no longer in use and stands empty.

(Deutsche Orient Bank)

Enjoy the pictures and maybe next time I come up with something more interesting from Istanbul.

It's a rainy day in Belgrade too!!

Last month when I was in Paris I was bitching about the weather and when I went to Belgrade three weeks ago I couldn't believe how beautiful the weather was. I arrived on a Sunday morning and the weather was brilliant: Sunshine and degrees over 25° Celsius. What else can you ask for? But wait, my meteorological happyness lasted only one day! The very next day, I was going to particiapte at the exhibition so I had to get up early. But I could not believe my eyes when I looked out of the hotel window: dark grey clouds with tons of rain splashing against my window. What the fuck had happened? Maybe it is just a cloud I thought. It can't be that one day I was gaping after beautiful serbian girls in mini skirts and the next day I was drowning in the flood of the century?? That was some crazy Balkan weather.

I have to say, I stayed the whole week in Belgrade and it was like this every single day.  I had a room at hotel Life Design, which is in the heart of the city. It is a nice hotel with nicely-decorated, clean rooms. Very recommendable. Right next door was a strip club but unfortunately I didn't go in since I heard only bad stories about such places where they rip you off prettttty gooooood!! But judging from the girls that you see on the streets you can say that serbian girls are indeed really pretty.
Anyways, back to the subject: Flood of the century.
Each time we left the hotel me and my colleague got soaking wet. Nice thing about the hotel was that it had a spa area where guests of the hotel could enjoy different varieties of sauna and a jakuzzi pool.
But boy the weather was depressing. Belgrade is boring as far as sightseeing goes. They have a nice castle and were heavily influenced by the Ottoman. Turks left their mark everywhere. One guy made a joke about it. He told me:
-hey once we were all blond and blue eyed like the Slovenians but after the Turks fucking our nannies for 400 years..look at us..we look like Anatolian shepards!
Well, what could I say? the man had a point. Hmm..although, I'm fair haired, fair skinned, my mom and granny were blond with blue eyes..what does that say about me?
Ok, let us not wake sleeping dogs and let's move to the next important subject of this blog: Food! Serbian food is very meat-oriented but also quite delicious. We went to a fine restaurant at Kale Megdan, where you had a beautiful view over the Danube river, There were 3 gorgeous looking ladies playing classical music. I had a beef soup, which was awesome and a steak. Traditional serbian food includes specialties such as cevapcici or pecenje etc.
The food itself is pretty close to what we eat in Turkey, even the names are similar; however, without the pork stuff of course.

(me looking bored at the exhibition!!)

So, as far as sightseeing goes, not much to see in Belgrade but I have been told that the night-life is one of the best in Europe and that the people know how to party. Everybody was friendly and I did not experience anything bad about this place. Most of them spoke good English. I'd say it's worth a visit!

It's a rainy day in Paris!

1st of May me and my wife took a weekend-trip to Paris in order to refresh things and take a break from the grind that we are slaving away on a daily basis. We left our baby-daugther at home with her aunts and nanny and took Transavia-airlines to Paris-Orly airport. First time that I flew with Transavia, they are you know one of the cheaper options when you want to fly to Paris. Turkish Airlines and the other corporate bitches were way tooo expensive, delivering a shitty service and ripping the people off of their hard-earned cash with ultra-expensive tickets but hey the lounge in Istanbul is great but always overcrowded! Anyways, that being sad I didn't know much about Transavia. And I don't have anything to complain about them other than they changed the flight time but informing me on time with mail and sms. The plane itself was nice with enough room for your legs and the staff was friendly. You can buy some sandwich or coke on board and prices are expensive of course. This was my second time in Paris and I knew how pricey them french fries can be. Especially when you take a taxi you might as well bring your salary-check with you. So I ordered a taxi with we-cab, which was reasonably priced compared to a normal taxi. You can make your reservation online and you share your cab with others. You receive a text message on your mobile phone informing you what gate they are going to pick you up and what time. Worked quite well.

I had made a reservation at the Hotel Auteil Tour Eiffel, which is a 4 star hotel near the famous Eiffel tower. It is basically a 10 minutes walk away and the room was nice, clean and big enough. In Paris you mostly face the problem that hotel rooms are tiny and expensive but we paid 240 EUR for two nights which is okay I guess. So, everthing looked perfect for this stay but of course, there was one factor that ruined the first day. It was raining cats and dogs when we arrived. But we didn't mind. Determined to make the most of our stay we put on our coats and went to see the Eiffel tour thinking that we would be the only ones strolling under the rain. When we arrived at the Eiffel tower the place was packed. There was a cue so long that we'd wait at least an hour to get an entrance ticket. So we cued up starting waiting when the sign said 'upper level is closed due to fucking tourists who climbed the effin tower on a rainy day. Well that wasn"t exactly what it said but it was what I thought. So we decided to come back the next morning. We were determined to make that climb. Next day we woke up, had our breakfast near a cafe and at 09.30 in the morning we arrived at the tower just to see that there were more people waiting in cue than yesterday. What the fuck? So, we just said screw the Eiffel tower. We went to the parks, to the Louvre (where the cue was like a mile long and we didn"t get to see the freaking Mona Lisa), we took a ride with the tourist-buses and it was nice. Paris is a beautiful city but also an expensive one. We had some fine dinner in a small restaurant, drank too much wine, tasted the delicious cheese. So was it expensive for a 2-day trip? yes, of course since you`re not getting away without going on a shopping spree at the Champs-Elysees but it was worth it and I´m glad we did it.

Gone for a week and the place turns into a mess!! Thank you PM with the charlie chaplin attitude!

I've been a big fan of Charlie Chaplin movies since I was a kid. We used to watch them on ARD or ZDF (there were only two or three channels in Germany back then).  One scene especially got me cracking each time I watched it: you know where Mussolini and Hitler are having a chair race to the ceiling in the Great Dictator? Hilarious! There is one dude now who is not so funny but has a similar attitude like that guy with the moustache when it comes to ruling a country. What's worse is that I have to live in the same country as this guy. There's no escape!
Well, that's not entirely true. I thought I was able to escape the ugly reality for a week because I had to travel to Milan, Italy for business purposes. I don't really like Milan. Compared to Rome, Milan is boring. What can you do or see? There is Da Vinci's 'Last Supper' at the Santa Maria dalla Grazie or you can see the 'Duomo' or you could take a walk at the Castillo, which is quite impressive. But that's about it. But I was there for business and not pleasure so I shouldn't be complaining at all. So while I'm away I try to read as little as possible about the news at home because I want to clear my head and get rid of the nonsense that is going on, even if only for a week. But some news are inevitable when they reach global scale. I was watching the news in my hotel room and what do I see? PM has banned Twitter! That is indeed good press! Good for our reputation.
By the way, I stayed at the Antica Locanda Leonardo, which is a nice boutique hotel near the metro station 'Conciliazione'. Pretty central location. Rooms are tiny but clean. Breakfast is limited but okay. But the staff is very friendly and they always try to do their best to please their guests. I wouldn't mind staying there the next time.

So I thought I was in peace for at least a week but the moment I turn on the tube the first thing I see is this guy and his moustache, wildly gesticulating, spitting and yelling saying that he's going to erase Twitter. Dude, what the fuck is your problem? get the funk out and go to Saudi Arabia or Iran or any other third-world-country where people like you belong to.  What is even more sad is to see the brainless crowd clapping and cheering the guy. Can we have brain CT here please? urgently!!!

anyway, I wanted to write something about Milan but not in the mood for it, so bear with me. next post will be about either milan or bucarest (that is where I'm flying in two weeks).

OMG..I just ate Mr. Ed!!!

You remember the show Mr.Ed? the talking horse? when I was a kid I used to watch this black and white show on TV and was mesmerized by the idea to have a talking horse in one's backyard.  hey, don't judge me I was 6-7 years old,  what did I know? You believe in the easter bunny too so why not in a talking horse? by the way, you probably noticed how I emphasized the words 'black and white'. It was just to give you an idea of how old this dude is. Nahh! 42 is not old is it? I mean 40's are the new 30's right? am I right?
Other than my encounter with Mr. Ed as a kid I never cared for horses in my whole life. But our ways somehow crossed in a lavishly decorated restaurant in the dusty desert city of Astana, Kazakhstan. In the past two years I travelled three times to Kazakhstan, mostly to Almaty where I participated at exhibitions or visited customers. I was always accompanied by a customer during my trips so I didn't have to look for restaurants. that was a decision I left to my Kazakh friends. So this time they took me to an Uzbek restaurant somewhere in Astana. Don't ask me what it's called cause I can't remember. But it was a nice building and the waiters were dressed in traditional clothing. We were 7-8 people and we took a separate chamber, which we had all for ourselves. Of course, they ordered what they thought would be appropriate for my European stomach and I was delivered one dish after another. Most of them dishes were meat dishes like kebabs and whatnot and very delicious must I say. However, one dish that I was served was extremely delicious. Soft chunks of meat dipped in a sweet spicy sauce. Very nice. So I asked my friend what it was and he said it was meat horse. Of course I was shocked at first mainly because horses were a taboo thing to eat in Germany. We just don't eat this kind of stuff. We like 'Sauerbraten mit Knöddel or Schweinehachse mit Sauerkraut'. But horses? The lovely animals of our childhood heroes and best companion of John Wayne? What am I gonna do? I was torn and filled with guilt...but it lasted only a second!

I stabbed my fork into that soft meat and ate it. Yes, I did it. As delicious as this dish was, the drink I was served was disgusting. It's called Kymyz and it's the milk of a mare but it's fermented. So it has some alcohol in it but it was very sour. Didn't work for me. I stuck with my coke. Most of the dishes were served with pilav. Some rice dish that is also very common in Turkey. Actually most of the Kazakh dishes had Turkish names, which is normal I think considering that both countries have common anchestors. But then again, eating horse meat is also a taboo in Turkey since it is considered a vulgarity. It's a sacred animal. There is some sort of horse worship in Turkic cultures. You don't eat your friend, right? 

Indian cuisine...delicious!!!!!!

When I was in India last year everybody warned me, despite the fact that most people's knowledge about this country was based on programs they saw on Discovery Channel or National Geographic, which is not a bad thing per se but one should at least have some in depth first-hand experience about one thing, before advising this travelling man about what food to eat and what places to avoid. While I was waiting at the boarding hall at the airport ready to take the flight to New Delhi the Turkish equivalent of the Red Cross had placed a banner offering travellers vaccines against malaria, which could scare off the fırst-time traveller but not me! No sir, not me! What vaccine? ain't no mosquito in India that's going to dare to even land on me. By the way, speaking of mosquitos...I saw a funny card somewhere the other day it said: ' I sprayed mosquito repellent on a mosquito. Now he'll never have any friends. ' Ha, ha! That was funny. Mosquitos are funny insects. Can you imagine that the West Nile Virus killed over 250 people in 2012 in the U.S? Now that is indeed some scary shit. And for them ignorants out there...as you see WNV is not only present in Africa eh?
This comes to me as no surprise but did you know that only female mosquitos bite? next time a mosquito tries to bite me the term bitch-slap's gonna get a whole new meaning heeellyahh!
So, coming back to my story, not that I have an interesting story to tell here, I'm just babbling randomly about the places I've been. anyways, so there I am in New Delhi with all the stories in my back head, warnings about the famous delhi-belly and I was welcomed by one of my Indian clients, who was a really friendly guy. As a principle I try to have an open mind about different cultures and their habits. When I'm in a new city one thing that I'm curious about is where the locals eat. So I told Rajesh that I didn't want have that tourist crap just because I'm an effin' tourist but then again I didn't want to get diarrhea or something. So he promised me to take me to quality restaurants where I could enjoy the finest Indian cuisine without getting ripped off. And what a feast that was! I'm a friend of spices of any sorts and I must say the food I ate there was exactly what I wanted. One day he took me to Karim's Restaurant, which is near to the Jama Masjid. We had meat, meat, meat in spicy sauces! Delicious Mughlai food accompanied by onions and some white bread. Nothing else. The tandoori chicken, the mutton burrah, chicken tikka...my mouth is watering as I'm writing these lines. DELICIOUS!!
I stayed there for a week and while somedays we ate at the hotel restaurant, we stayed at the Intercontinental, where the food was a mixture of European and Indian cuisine one day we went to another fine restaurant called the Chor Bizarre. First, the interior design of this restaurant is marvellous but the food is even better.

( No, this picture is not from the restaurant but I that's all I got in my archives so deal with it !!)

Seldom have I been served better food than here. All the egzotic dishes, gazap ka tikka, chicken khurchan, tikka masala etc.  So anyone visiting Delhi in the near future..go and eat at those splendid restaurants.  You won't regret it. Next time I'll tell you about my eating experience in Astana/Kazakhstan. But now I'm tired of typing....so bugger of!!

Rückfall in die 90'er!

Ich bin mal wieder dabei meinen 6-monatigen Reiseplan auszuarbeiten und als ich vor dem PC saß geschah wieder das Gleiche! Jedes Mal wenn ich mir was vornehme, um 'ne Arbeit durchzuführen, die ein bisschen Konzentration erfordert schaffe ich es irgendwie mich vollkommen abzulenken und ertappe mich dabei, wie ich irgendeinen Mist auf Google recherchiere. Wieso kann ich mich nicht streng auf eine Sache konzentrieren? DAS müsste ich mal nachschlagen!! Na ja, diesmal bin ich auf youtube gelandet und die haben ein ganz miesen Trick drauf. Die merken sich was du dir für einen Mist reingezogen hast in der Vergangenheit und halten dir dann irgenwelche Clip-Vorschläge vor die Nase, wenn du es am wenigsten erwartest. Dies mal erwischte mich so ein Video von Tim Bendzko. Ich hatte mir mal dat eine Lied reingezogen, wo er nur mal kurz die Welt retten muss. Gefällt mir ganz gut. Und auf ein mal sitz ich dort und zieh mir deutschsprachige Mucke aus den Neunzigern rein. Ich muss sagen, wenn ich den Mist von heute höre, dann war das was wir uns damals reingezogen haben Geniestreiche. Ja, ja dat wor et!

Ich meine, ich hab mich damals wenig für Hip-Hop interessiert. Ich war definitiv nur auf Hard-Rock und Heavy Metal fixiert aber was den Rapgesang angeht war ich leider ein Spätzünder. Gerade was den deutschsprachigen Rap angeht. Natürlich kam auch ich nicht an Liedern von Fanta4 oder Rödelheim auf VIVA vorbei. Oder Fettes Brot Nordisch bei Nature aber im Ganzen war das für mich damals uninteressant. Aber gestern ca. 20 Jahre später kam ich auf den Genuss und spielte ein Video nach dem anderen ab. Erinnert Ihr euch noch an Freundeskreis? A-N-N-A...was für ein tolles Lied. Oder "Keine is" von Rödelheim Hartreim Projekt? Deichkind "Bon Voyage"?  oder Absolute Beginner "Hammerhart"? Massive Töne? Einfach geile Lieder mit intelligenten Texten.

Lieber spät als nie. Aber ich blieb nicht beim Hiphop stehen. Danach ging es weiter zu Punk-Rock. Ein Video nach dem anderen von den Ärzten, Toten Hosen, Westernhagen. Die Ärzte hatten lustige Lieder, die ich mittlerweile völlig vergessen hatte, Schunder Song, Hip Hip Hurra, Mein Baby war beim Friseur oder Pushed again von den Hosen.

Scheiß youtube muss ich sagen. Hat mich wieder mal daran erinnert, wie schnell man alt wird! Kann gar nicht glauben, dass schon 20 Jahre vergangen sind. Ich saß also stundenlang vor dem PC und habe im Endeffekt alles andere als meine Reiseplannung gemacht. Schöner Scheiß!

El nómada imparable..

El camino sigue y sigue..no podemos parar..la inmovilidad nos mata..! Creo que esta frase recapacita principalmente la esencia de nuestra vida. Bueno, quizá no de todos pero si la mía..'nunca olvides de donde vienes' es un dicho que uno debería aceptar como lema para su vida pero en mi caso lo tenia bastante difícil determinar donde es aquel lugar. La historia empieza con mis abuelos, quizá más atrás, que ellos vivían en un pueblecito cerca a la frontera que separaba Rumanía y Bulgaria. Ellos siendo turcos eran desechos del imperio otomano, olvidados en países conquistados y durante la primera guerra mundial animados a trasladarse a otras tierras que no conocían. Mi abuelos eran bastante joven cuando embarcaron en el viaje, que los llevo a un pueblo de Anatolia, donde el gobierno turco les prometió un campo. Mi abuelo tenia 23 años, y creo que es entendible que un joven no quiere ganar su vida con agricultura. Una cosa que no es relevante pero siempre me extrañaba el hecho que mi abuelo, siendo turco, hizo su servicio militar en el ejercicio rumano. Pues, dejaron atrás aquel campo y empezaron a buscar gente que compartía el mismo origen y lo encontraron en un barrio de Estambul. Era un gueto de la gente balcánica donde también vivían los padres de mi madre. Ellos vinieron de Varna una ciudad en Bulgaria.  En aquel barrio creció mi padre junto con mi madre. Pero no sé si era karma u otra cosa pero cuando mi padre tenia 21 año se decidió buscarse la vida en Alemania. Mi madre tenia la misma idea, y se fue con 17 años a Alemania para trabajar en una fabrica. Durante el servicio militar mi padre se enamoró de una alemana que trabajaba en cuerpo de paz en Turquia, y él siguió la alemana a Munich. No sé por qué no funcionó con la alemana pero un año luego mi padre empezó a escribir cartas a mi madre. Ella vivía unos quinientos kilómetros lejos de Munich en un pueblo pequeño cerca a Bonn. Pues, cuando mi padre tenia 24 años se casaron en el consulado turco en Mainz.

Alquilaban un piso de 40 metros cuadrados en un pueblo que tenia poca industria y la gente cultivaba vid y vendía vino. Allí nací yo en 1972. Era uno de aquellos pueblos donde todo el mundo conocía uno al otro. Pues, en 1982 cuando tenia diez años mis padres pensaban que necesitan un cambio y se trasladaron otra vez a Estambul donde mi padre intentó su suerte con una tienda de cuero. Él aprendio de un sastre armenio como hacer chaquetas de cuero cuando tenia 17 años pero lo falló porque mi padre, aunque un buen sastre, no fue un buen comerciante. Quebrado, sin ingresos y encima con tres hijos mis padres decidieron volver a Alemania. Otra vez hicieron su camino. Cuando estudiaba en la universidad lo tocaba a mí..cogí el fiebre del viajero, y fui a Barcelona con 28 años para estudiar y trabajar. Pero el gen dominante me mandó moverme otra vez, y un agosto tres años después fui a Estambul donde conocí a mi mujer. Estambul es una ciudad de maravilla pero también lleno de contradicciones. Era tan diferente de Alemania. Tenia problemas adaptarme a la cultura oriental y mi mujer haciendo el sacrificio lo aceptó y nos mudamos otra vez a Alemania. Primero pensábamos volver a Barcelona pero echaba de menos a mis padres, y volvimos al pueblo donde yo nací hace unos 35 años.
La historia no para aquí porque la vida tenia otros planes..por causas laborales acabamos otra vez en Estambul. Aceptaba un puesto en una empresa que me hizo hacer viajes por todo el mundo. Desde aquel tiempo estoy volando y volando..viajé a 50 países visitó a 150 ciudades, hablando con gentes innumerables ..soy el nómada imparable!