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greenbagjosh · 1 year ago

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Sunday 9 August 1998 - prebreakfast TV - ride to Forch - Röstipizza for lunch - ride down the roller slide and the funny elk-light fixtures - train ride home and a ham focaccia for supper

Sunday 9 August 1998

Hi everyone, Hope your week is going well. It is supposed to be cooled down by today. Twenty years ago today I did a quick country train and bus ride around Zürich, after a long day in Zürich itself. Eventually I went back home to München.

Overview

watching Ottifanten and an Otto Waalkes sketch comedy show on TV

shower and breakfast in hotel

check out, walk to Rümlang S Bahn station, lock clothes bag in locker

take S Bahn to Stadelhofen, then S-18 to Esslingen via Forch

take bus from Forch to Uster, and S-Bahn from Uster to Zürich HB

lunch at the Brasserie Johanniter

S-10 train to Üetliberg, walk up to see the Uto Kulm observation area

train to Zürich Selnau, walk back to HB

take train with Sommer Spezial ticket to München Hbf

head home with U-5, U-4 and bus 37 home

arrive home and no one complains (thankfully)

make it to work for the final week And that was the summary of what I did on Sunday, 9th August 1998.

That was some noisy night last night, I am lucky to be back in my comfortable room with no roommates to have to listen to (loud music, snoring and so on), and I have my own TV set.

Breakfast was served until 10 AM at the hotel, so I watched a little TV before going. Since I am still such a big fan of Otto Waalkes since July 1991, I watched an episode of Ottifanten, which are anthropomorphic elephants, the main character voiced by Otto Waalkes himself. Then there was the live action sketch comedy show, with his "English for runaways" inexact English-to-German translations, plus the Kakao sketch.

After seeing Otto on TV, I took a shower, then had breakfast. The breakfast was better than at the hostel, the items were more delicious and the bread rolls were fresh. Well worth the extra 10 CHF I paid. After that I checked out with my clothes bag, and I took my day bag with the remaining sodas for the swig bottle. It was a twenty minute walk to the Rümlang S-Bahn station. My ticket was still valid for Zürich and Rümlang until 12:30 PM but I wanted to out of that zone for the day. In that case, what is the appropriate ticket to buy for all zones of the Zürcher Verkehrsverbund (Zürich regional rail district)? More likely than not, it would be the 9 AM ticket available daily and for about 18 CHF for all zones, valid only up to the last train of the day, likely just after midnight.

From Rümlang, I took the S-Bahn via Glattbrugg and Oerlikon to Zürich HB, where for 6 CHF I could store the clothes bag away for the day until it would be time to take the train home. I had until 5:15 PM that day to explore the Zürich region. So I thought, why not take the S-18 all the way to Esslingen ZH? To do that, I had to take the S-Bahn from platforms 21 to 24 to Stadelhofen, and change to the S-18 at its own stop near the theater (which on 24 July was playing The Truman Show). In 1998 I did not know about the Tram museum at Burgwies, close to Balgrist, which would be open at 11 AM. That would have been interesting. I made it a point later to visit, and between September 2011 and December 2016 I have since visited twice. Going further, the S-18 ran on the same tracks as the tram line 15 up to Rehalp, and after that, it went on a surface route up to Zumikon-Waltikon and went underground for Zumikon and Maiacher, before coming out of tunnel for Forch. After Forch and up to Esslingen, the train route was mainly single tracked. The day was nice, mid 70s and had interesting scenery, not too hilly. At the end was Esslingen and I had to take a bus, line 842, through Mönchaltorf ZH to Uster. I had been to Uster on 4th of July 1997 but only by accident. That incident was due to the fact that I did not alight the S-Bahn train at Stettbach as I should have. But this time Uster seemed familiar and I knew where I needed to go and where to alight.

The S-Bahn from Uster to Zürich, goes northwest past the Greifensee.and Dübendorf, before it goes into tunnel at Stettbach and emerges at Stadelhofen. Then there is another tunnel section from there to Zürich HB which is platforms 21 to 24. I alighted at Zürich HB and it was time for lunch. I wanted to go back to my favorite restaurant at the time, the Brasserie Johanniter, on Niederdorferstrasse 70. They were not so full as the previous night and they offered me a table outside. I had a Hürlimann 1 Liter, and on the seasonal menu, they were serving Rösti as a pizza. I could order a "quattro stagione" (four seasons) pizza on a bed of the hashbrowns. It was actually quite delicious, too bad I did not take a photo of it. With a full liter of beer, you have to take at least an hour to enjoy it. I think it was about 2 PM that I paid the bill and left for Üetliberg.

In 1998, the SZU, Sihltal-Zürich-Üetlibergbahn used the same platforms as today, but instead of platforms 21 and 22, the platforms were called just 1 and 2 back then. I took the S-10 the entire distance to Üetliberg via Triemli. It was a four-zone journey and my 9 AM ticket covered it with no problem. When I arrived at Üetliberg terminus, I left the train, walked up the steep pedestrian trail to Uto Kulm, and for the first time I saw the most bizarre light fixtures around, namely the Bruno Weber Hirschlampen. These were four lights on the antlers of giant elk. Also there is some planetary display on the trail. The Uto Kulm resort hotel is at the top, and costs around 200 CHF per night, which I could not afford then. The observation platform and tower are still open to the public. From there you can see from north Zürich into the Albisgütli where there is the late summer Knabenschiessen event, and further along Lake Zürich towards Rapperswil SG and Pfäffikon SZ. I had to take about twenty minutes to get a good view of everything and appreciate the many years I had known Zürich (my first visit was 1976 when I was about four).

It was getting close to 4 PM and I had to go back to the rail station. I thought I would have some time to walk from Selnau to the station, it was not a long journey, and being Sunday, the traffic would be light. I arrived about 4:45 PM and searched for some place to buy Victorinox knives but I could only find cheap store-brand replicas. They would have to suffice. I managed to collect my clothes bag, get to the train to München Hbf and board the right train car, as stated on my Sommer-Spezial ticket. My seat was in an open area of the first class compartment and with a window all to myself. At 5.15 PM the train left Zürich HB, I left seeing the Zürich insurance billboard just outside the station, and away it went. I took a few photos here and there, particularly getting close to St. Gallen. There was a bistro wagon going through the cars, and I could not pass up the ham and cheese sandwich on a focaccia-shaped bread roll. The train reached Bregenz about 7:45 PM. That was the only time the border guards were on the train, and the rest of the way it was uneventful. I think I took a nap between Lindau and Buchloe. As you might expect, the electrification did not start until the train passed Geltendorf, which is kind of the imaginary border of Oberbayern and the Ostallgäu. The sky was getting darker and about 9:50 PM the train pulled into München Hbf. There was no point remaining in the station so I headed home, first on the U-5 to Lehel, and caught the U-4 to Arabellapark, then the bus 37 to my apartment in the Freischützstraße. I entered quietly and no one told me off about my alarm clock.

And the next morning? It would be the final week of my Werkstudenttätigkeit, so all loose ends had to be tightened up, and paperwork had to be filled out for end-of-project, and I had to also take care of my apartment rental and last three nights in Paris for Summer 1998 before flying home. And buying this and that. So the next story may not be until Wednesday the 15th August. The 18th August is the "grand finale" of this saga.

Hope you enjoyed so far, Gute Nacht and bonne nuit!

PS Desirée is afraid of the dark, especially when she's in a park… (that was one song I heard repeatedly in Summer 1998, she had "You gotta be" in 1994)

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onsomenewsht · 2 months ago

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Took a loan on a house I own

About when she panics and you’re very patient, but out of t-shirts

《 shout out to @p0orbaby, who turned this shit around and back on the fun side of the road

》 Leah Williamson x Reader

》 words count: 3k

》 commitment [noun, law]: a written order of a court directing that someone be confined in prison; mittimus

“Accept the Arsenal deal”, your agent encourages, his client’s best interests – and transfer fee – close to his heart.

“At least it’s not Manchester”, your father comments, still wishing for your comeback as saviour of your hometown club.

“What can go wrong?”, your childhood friends resonate with sincere smiles and rolling eyes at your unjustified hesitation.

Turns out, signing for the Gunners puts you in the Ballon d’Or shortlist after the first season and Leah Williamson in your bedroom.

One night you two are sharing a ride after a shameful celebration, you’re way too drunk to even remember how to walk in a straight line and she finds herself thinking way too much about your carefree giggles – if anyone asks, she just wants to make sure you don’t get kidnapped or fall on your pretty face tripping over nothing.

The following day she’s still in your house, wearing your clothes and sharing questionable stories of failed dates just to hear you laugh.

A week after she’s in your bed again, this time naked and cracking up at the worst jokes you got.

It’s not like you planned such development in the relationship with the skipper or tried to win her over with infallible pickup lines, it just happened.

Not that you’re complaining now.

Another season ends, but you keep finding each other in compromising positions at the worst possible moments, avoiding friends and teammates teasing comments with really not much effort.

Her mother, the wiser when it comes to Leah’s debatable life choices, asks about you all the time and went as far as personally inviting you over for Christmas. You declined, obviously, but made sure the Williamson family received your presents.

Your best friend demanded to have a private conversation with the blonde the first time he visited, probably embarrassing you with made-up memories and pointless threats. She took it all more seriously than needed, teaming up with him at your expense by the end of the night.

“Do you have a t-shirt I can borrow to sleep in?”

A sense of domesticity fills every interaction with the English woman nowadays, feelings you’re way too pleased to indulge but even more scared to address.

Knowing her, like a stray cat enjoying the sun and the offered food, a too-close approach or unexpected movement could provoke a runaway.

You move your eyes from the laptop slowly, taking in her freshly showered body and the wet blonde locks dropping water on the floor. She knows you hate that.

“Top drawer on your left, dry your hair before going to bed”

“What do you have against air drying?”

“What do you have against respecting my silk sheets?”

When she misses the opportunity to quip back, like she always does when your sleeping habits are mentioned, you give up any chance of reviewing the last away game to find Leah cautiously studying the furniture.

“Why are my clothes here?”

“Would you prefer to have them lying around the apartment?”

“It’s a lot of clothes”, she states, digging through all the tops and shorts and even some designer pieces stocked in the drawer.

It’s not really that much, honestly.

“You leave behind a lot of shit”

That makes the younger girl react, recovering from the shock of her things being carefully folded somewhere other than her closet – and occasionally a strategically placed chair in her room.

The cat is bothered.

Closing the laptop, you rise from the bed to slowly approach her. Cautiously.

“I just don’t understand why you put my clothes in your drawer”

“You have a lot of things here and I quite like the idea of a clean place”

“That’s not true! I–”, she fumbles for the right words to explain herself in her own mind.

You guide the blonde to the bed, sitting her down like you’d do to explain to a kid that Santa looked a lot like their overweight uncle because was, indeed, their overweight uncle; or that no, they can’t walk the dog for the last journey to Heaven.

The next words are going to be crucial.

“Leah, you basically live here”

“What?!”

Bad choice, noted.

She literally jumps so high you have to take a moment to appreciate your own cat metaphor for such spot on accuracy.

As the freshly nominated Arsenal’s captain, the goddesses and gods of football bowed to Kim Little, she shouldn’t risk her knees so mindlessly. You have to calm her down before some questionable network buys the rights for a high-budget documentary of how you managed to kill the equivalent of Princess Diana for the football community.

“I’m sorry to be the one that broke it to you, but at this point only you don’t–”

“You’re not making any sense, really, I–”

“Please, walk me through your day”

Easy.

The past two weeks have been dedicated to national duties, training camp and a friendly overseas. Not too bad, you both manage to keep in touch despite the time difference and your own commitments.

The trip back is uneventful, she sleeps for most of the flight and annoys Beth for the rest of it.

You pick her up at the airport.

Just because you’re closer than her mom and offered to.

You drive her to her apartment, but the blonde leaves the suitcase somewhere in the living room to deal with another time and comes back to the car in under three minutes.

Just because you promise to make dinner, she is supposed to refuse?

You two cook together, even if she’s still forbidden to use the air fryer and your wine accessories after the shrimps accident.

But we don’t talk about the shrimps accident.

The food is good, the company is even better. Stories are shared, memories are created with a questionable playlist in the background and laughs front and foremost. Plans are made to go see a film you’ve been waiting a year for and to find a dress she needs for a charity event.

Just because.

She takes a shower after, finally washing away the fatigue with her fancy shampoo you somehow have around in the bathroom. There’s also her favourite lotion, the delicate scent she can now smell with her eyes closed when she misses you a little too much for some reason. Even getting to the point of applying the scar cream she uses when her knee bothers, just because you know–

Oh, shit.

“Oh, shit”

“Yeah, ‘oh, shit’, indeed”, the smile on your face grows as you see the realisation crashing over Leah.

The English capitan may be a clueless idiot sometimes, but you’re already too into it to pretend not to like it.

“I basically live here”

The thought of her finally realising she moved in with you is not something you’ve indulged too much. An unconscious but lingering fear is the faithful companion of ruthless nights, lying in bed with Leah and her commitment issues.

Most nights she falls asleep holding on to you, and most mornings she wakes you up with a freshly made coffee. But she runs away and disappears for days after sharing a way too intimate moment.

By now, you know her well enough to know when to push her limits and when to let her be.

Yet, the confused and almost uncomfortable frown creasing her features hurts.

“I have to go”

“Leah–”

Without giving you the possibility to say anything to reason with her – or just protesting, for what it matters –, the footballer is putting on the first t-shirt she finds and fleeing the scene.

It’s one of your favourite tees, but maybe this it’s not the time to point it out.

“I need to go, I–”, she mutters as she tries to simultaneously put the shoes on and open the front door.

“Are you planning to walk back to your place?”

“Maybe?”

“It’s a ten minutes ride by car, you’re not that kind of athlete”

“I’ll call a taxi”

“With the phone you left on the nightstand?”

For the first time, probably ever, you sound exhausted and not amused at all about the situation – she notices it too. It’s not like she’s completely clueless about the loose attitude, the blowing hot and cold.

You look at her, never dropping your gaze as your head shakes and a tired smile doesn’t reach your eyes. You hand her the phone you picked up when she was too concerned with running away from whatever therapist’s comment was echoing in her mind to realise what she was leaving behind.

Literally speaking, obviously.

“Please, wait here for the taxi. It’s dark outside”

“I’m sorry, I–”

“We can talk at training in a couple of days”, you ease her worry with a quick side hug and a kiss on the forehead, closing the bedroom’s door behind you.

A couple of days later, you don’t talk at training.

She’s avoiding you.

Well, kind of. Everyone at Arsenal, even the chocolate-coloured dog Win, can tell she’s torn up inside and always on the verge of a mental breakdown or, probably worst, ready to rant an apology speech she rehearsed in front of the mirror a concerning amount of times.

The usually composed skipper is panicking whenever found around you, trying to approach and chickening out despite the mental pep talks.

“Care to tell me why she’s sleeping on my couch?”

Lia insisting on pairing for the drill was a trap, you should have seen it coming.

“She found out she moved in”, you let her know, an amused smile lighting up your features for the first time this week.

It’s easy enough to put aside the bruised ego when the situation is as ridiculous as the one you’re currently in, one can laugh at their own misery.

“Finally?”

“I think she panicked”

“Of course she did, she has commitment issues and an apartment she’s not staying in– not even now!”, she passes the ball back to you, completely missing the point of the exercise you’re supposed to do, “Why is she sulking in my house?”

“Can’t tell you, she’s avoiding me as if I signed for Tottenham”

“Don’t joke about that, she may have a heart attack”

You both burst out in giggles, knowing too well it’d be a real chance. Or Leah could find the motivation to approach you – to kill you, sure, but she’d need to be close enough to do it with her bare hands.

“Be patient with her, she’s trying”, Lia gently says after composing herself.

The curious relationship you are building with the blonde may be questionable and unhealthy for some people, but it’s filled with respect and care. It resonates with genuine laughs and whispered secrets, it cherishes with caring hands and firm holds. It’s love.

The kind of love two people give each other despite the fears and the doubts.

“I know, I’m trying too”

After two weeks, the most awkward goal celebration in a London derby history, and an even more embarrassing phone call with Leah’s brother, you definitely have enough.

It’s not too bad, really.

She doesn’t flee the room as soon as you make your entrance anymore, the conversations start quietly but progress in the usual easy and carefree way. Sometimes she leans into you in the middle of a night out, other times your hands find each others without a real reason if not the comforting feeling that such a simple action can provide.

It’s not perfect, but you can tell she’s trying and she has a lot going on in her head already. You just want to be there, that’s all you have ever wanted.

It’s not too bad, there’s a reason for everything.

There’s a reason for your shopping list to still include her favourite bread and that inexplicably expensive shampoo, there’s a reason for the warm coffee with your name scribbled on it in the changing room every morning.

There’s a reason for saving a spot next to the other during tactical and video sessions, on the bus for the away game, or on the table at your go-to restaurant.

There’s a reason for the smiles secretly shared in the middle of a stupid debate going on between your teammates.

There’s a reason for you to sleep with the jersey she gave you the first time you played against each other and for her to still be squatting on Lia’s couch wearing your tee – the Swiss woman makes sure to send pictures and updates every night.

It’s not too bad, but it’s game night at the Williamson, and you’re not going to put your victory streak at risk because Leah is freaking out about her housing situation and ghosting her therapist too.

“Are you planning to hide here all night?”, you ask after tapping at her car’s window.

She looks surprised, even if she’s the one parked in front of her mother’s house for the past ten minutes – lights turning off as soon as she spotted you on the side of the road.

The window rolls down comically slow, and the blonde relaxes immediately when she gathers enough courage to look up at you just to find your amused smile. Hands still grasping around the steering wheel, turning white as her cheeks get redder every second.

She’s aware she’s been ridiculous.

“I didn’t know if you’d have come tonight”, she admits.

“I can leave, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable in your own–”

“No!”, she shouts immediately, “I mean, you’re already here. I want you here, I–”

“Good, I really want to defend my champion’s title and I can’t do it if my charades partner is playing hide and seek by herself”, you say, taking a step back to invite her to exit the car.

The teasing smile, that faded just for a moment, is back on your face and she couldn’t be happier to realise nothing really changed – you still look at her with unconditional affection and care, you still look after her heart in the most gentle way you possibly can.

“Hurry up, Williamson, I’ve been talking with your mother more than I’ve been with you lately so I kinda own her to lose a game or two”

She sighs and finally opens the door, getting out of the car with all the enthusiasm of a kid heading to the dentist without the promise of ice cream afterwards. And there is the t-shirt you’ve been looking for.

How many of your clothes did she manage to steal without you realising?

That’s why there’s so much of hers in the damn drawer.

“I wasn’t avoiding you”, she mumbles, more to her feet than to you as she drags them even slower.

It’s going to be the longest ten metres ever.

“Right, and Mariona isn’t asking me how to befriend the stray cat wandering in her apartment”

“I’m sorry, alright? I freaked out. The whole ‘basically living together’ thing just–”, she stops in the middle of the road, waving her hands around as if trying to catch the right words out of thin air, “It just hit me, I haven’t seen it coming”

You gently but firmly pull her safely to the other side of the road before answering, “I figured when Lia cornered me in the middle of training”

“I knew she’d tell you”, the footballer groans, rubbing her face, “She said you’d understand, but I was too scared to talk to you and–”

“I do understand, Leah, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to make you suffer for abandoning me and tricking Lia and Mario into adopting you”

She laughs at that, the sound loosening the tension in her shoulders and deep into your stomach. You may be more at peace with your love for the blonde, more confident in this relationship, but you have doubts too.

It breaks her heart to make you insecure, you who always go above and beyond to make sure she’s comfortable when it comes to the feelings and the moments you’re sharing – the future you’re building.

“Can we go slow? Like, really slow?”, she looks at you, her eyes softer and the panic fading to be replaced by a new sense of certainty.

“I think we can’t go any slower even if we tried, took you half an hour to exit the car and for us to make literally ten steps toward your mom’s house”

The punch that hits you is strong enough to make you wince.

“Fine, I think we can compromise”

“Your terms?”

“I get visitation rights to my own apartment and free access to your closet”, she proposes, holding out her hand.

“You already have those”, you raise an eyebrow at her cocky smile, “You have to promise not to air-dry your hair on my silk sheets ever again”

“Deal”, Leah smiles as you shake hands, “I’ll just have to get my own pillows for my side of the bed so you can stop complaining”

She laughs oh-so-carefreely at your stunned expression, finally stepping closer and leaning into your embrace, still holding on to you as she approaches the front door.

“I’ll text Lia I’m going home with you tonight”

“Good”, you say, kissing the top of her head, “But let’s be real, you just need an excuse to steal more of my clothes, don’t you?”

“Maybe, but it looks better on me”

She’s saved by her own mother, opening the door and happily taking in the lovely scene with a knowing grin. The older woman pushes you both inside, commenting about the delay and claiming it is a tactic not allowed – all the games are going to be played, doesn’t matter how late it turns.

“You better let me win if you don’t want to be the one sleeping on a couch tonight”, she whispers in your ear as you take the seat by her side.

“Don’t push your luck, Williamson. We’ve got a long way to go, and you still have to find out about the pair of keys with your name on it hidden in the drawer”

fine.

#woso x reader #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #woso #woso fanfics #woso imagine #lw6 #arsenal women x reader #arsenal women #here we go again #this is for the girlies with commitment issues and good jokes #love you all #but please call your therapist #my wo(rd)so

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