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furdiesentag · 7 years ago

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Do. Jun 8

Today I travel to Gay Paree. My mobile ticket has long since been booked, and is primed and ready onscreen with a belt-and-braces screenshot in reserve. I packed last night. Departure times and route numbers have been checked and checked again. Four alarms were set. Nothing can go wrong. I even pull off a barely-awake sprint akin to one half of an exceedingly unsynchronised three-legged race down my street to the Schöneberg S to ensure I’m on my platform at Berlin-Südkreuz with plenty of time to spare. And of course, with such pernickety attention to detail, I am. After giving myself a smug internal high five I kill time by drooling over the counter of the Scoom kiosk and reward myself with an absolute hammer of a falafel wrap for my journey.

My first train up to the Hauptbahnhof arrives. I have a good few minutes more in which to make my connection than my squeaky-bum-time jaunt to Warsaw originally suggested, so I’m pretty chill. Hoiking my thumbs in my backpack straps I stride nonchalantly up to the departures screen and scan for my platform. Scan again. Perhaps the screen’s faulty? I stride to another, and scan. Scan again. I find a good old fashioned printed timetable board: see, here’s my train and platform. A jot less nonchalantly I trot up the stairs to the platform my train should be departing from in order to check with a kindly member of staff. Still pre-6am, of course, the kindly staff are all still tucked up in bed and my train is not listed on the screen of this platform either.

As much as I adore train travel I cannot abide, nor indeed cope with, uncertainty. By now wobbling like a new-born foal I make laps of the station, clasping a palm to my forehead in the international language of “Help Me!”. Every information point I pass is closed. I flail into the nearest open shop where at last somebody who at least works in the general vicinity pops up, sympathetically directs me towards assistance, and zips up my backpack which in my mithered state of mind I can’t recall opening and is about to wantonly sprinkle a fairytale trail of odds and sods behind me.

“Ahh, hmm,” the helpdesk clerk squints over his glasses at my ticket, and nods sagely, “the timetable for this route has been revised: this service departed 20 minutes ago”. Peering back through his lenses and sensing my impending hysteria, he swiftly magics up a new route which lands me in Paris in an acceptable timeframe, reprints my ticket, and validates it for this new route with an impressively officious stamp-and-signature combo.

Crisis averted, I step away from the helpdesk, let some adrenaline drain from my jelly legs, and check my new journey deets. Two hours. Two hours to kill?! Are you having a gira- oh, can it, brain. Things could be a lot worse. Fresh air seems in order. Tentatively flexing my pegs, I rise, gather my belongings, and bob off for a calming constitutional of the immediate area outside the main entrance. Ain’t that just like me to wind up in the least scenic of spots. I can’t fathom which proves more twistedly hilare: the chainlink-and-landfill waterside drudgery, or the night-terror rictus grin of the metallic stallion cowering before me and the parasitic, petrified disembodied noggin ensconced within. Back inside and safely cradled in the soothing, familiar embrace of Maccy Ds, I slurp down a pint or two of coffee in an attempt to blanch these horrific images from my mind’s eye until finally! My next train is ready to board. Köln here I come. This leg is thankfully lazy and passes entirely without incident. I nap awhile and awake just in time to bag one of my by-now-signature ‘crappy sida town’ snaps of our locomotive’s sluggish chug into the city. An efficient connection and I’m on my third and final leg. To celebrate I flump my weary bod into the first available seat and decorate myself and half the carriage with an unorthodox but colourful confetti of carrot, cabbage, and falafel crumbies. Note to self: never trust German public transport kiosk food to actually be suitable for public transport consumption. No. Not without incident. Along comes the conductor to shatter the equilibric calm. My credit card palpably winces as it is forced to cough up for a new fare, my DB-validated ticket meaning nothing here. I’m ousted from my seat as it is already claimed by another passenger - the invisible man perhaps? But, the conductor is strict yet fair, and asks a lady a few rows up to move her bag so that I can sit next to her, as this is the only seat on the train not reserved. I proffer begruding-yet-grateful thanks to both and nip off for a slash before returning to claim my new throne. German. English. French. Shouty Mime. Blank eyes bore into mine as I reel haplessly through my feeble index of communication in an attempt to explain to this ‘lady’ that I’m the very person the conductor informed her of mere minutes earlier. Nada. One of her companions across the aisle intervenes, disgruntled that someone might dare to disrupt her slumber, and I awkwardly park my backside in the icy shade of my new neighbour’s glare. Thus begins the most itchily uncomfortable hour I have ever spent on a train. My mere presence somehow offends not only the Bag Lady but all five of her travelling squad. I whip my pocket mirror out at regular intervals, inspect my jawline, my neck - I’m convinced the incessant beams of so many evil eyes aimed on me are powerful enough to make me break out in hives.

Mercy arrives at the next stop in the form of the passenger booked into my supposedly unbooked Sitzplatz. I can’t scarper fast enough. The ‘bar car’ is not a bar at all but an overpriced, seatless tuck shop. I lock myself in a blessedly sanitary and spacious toilet, and get down to some restorative ablutions as a means of sloughing off the stress and running down the clock. A testy hammer on the door eventually turfs me out; froglike I squat on a sciatica-baiting makeshift pew for the final descent into our destination.

#Fantastic Voyage #Berlin #Mitte #Berlin Hauptbahnhof #Köln #station to station #face is a mess

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blueberry-beanie · 2 years ago

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Foals at E-Werk Köln | 21 June 2022

A very long tale about the day I ended up in Köln instead of Berlin, met the boys at the record shop, got front row spots again and had a quite surreal experience overall.

It's half past six in the morning and I'm sitting on the sofa in an apartment somewhere in the east of Köln. It's a weird feeling to be here all by myself after what has happened in the past 24 hours. But wait, how did I end up in Köln? Shouldn't I have been in Berlin right because of the Aurora concert? Yeah well... about that...

I was supposed to go to Aurora's concert and had booked everything already. The catch was, I had to choose between Aurora and Foals, who somehow managed to be in Germany at the exact same time. I really love Aurora and I'm sad I didn't get to experience her live yesterday.

Rachel (whom I met in Berlin at the Foals concert) has asked me if I'll be in Köln. I told her no, I had other plans. Last weekend there was the Hurricane festival, which I was supposed to attend with Charlotte, but decided against it. Last Friday Foals released their new album and did a small livestream on Instagram – while sitting in Hamburg.

That was the first time I realised I was somehow quite sad, because I ended up crying at the kitchen table after returning from my riding lesson. On top of that, I somehow managed to miss out on both livestreams from Hurricane and Southside. But that alone wouldn't have been enough to change my mind.

A few days ago, a record shop announced there would be a signing session in Köln. Still, I had just met them a few weeks ago. On Sunday noon, I received a message from Mickey, whom I met in Amsterdam. He asked me if I was going to Köln because he has been thinking about going there last minute.

I told him, no, I'm not going, please give the boys my greetings. Then started crying. Now I was unhappy about the prospect of going to Berlin all alone instead of seeing some people again who are actually asking about me

Enter insanity. I told him that I was looking to change my plan. And we started planning out our trip. I don't know which part of this is more insane, maybe you can decide for me:

- Berlin tickets and accommodation are non-refundable, and I am not a millionaire - We have two days until the concert - for some reason (Billie Eilish and Lorde probably) the entirety of Köln is completely booked out, with prices starting from 110 € upwards for any kind of accommodation - this makes it way too expensive for getting a single room, so Mickey and I decided to share - I don’t know him other than having spent a few hours at a concert with him

But of course, why not, right?

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two days later, at home

Mickey said on Sunday evening, “Yes, let’s go” and I did not know whether to grin like an idiot or panic. So, I first grinned and then spent Monday and Tuesday morning with panicking. Seems fair. I don’t know why anxiety kicked in as much as it did, but it nearly made it impossible to prepare because I was shaking with fear.

I booked my trains and Mickey booked an Airbnb half an hour from the city centre and about the same time from the venue E-Werk. It was the only remotely affordable flat anywhere near we needed to be that did not just have one bed, but also a sofa. Oh well…

On Tuesday morning I was too nervous to eat anything and left the house with a bag of food and fear. In the train I tried to distract myself with Life Is Yours and Everything Everything, hoping that the uplifting music would relax me. That did not really happen.

At least both the train to and from Hannover were fairly punctual, and so were his trains. Finally in Köln, I discovered that the station in fact has two entrances on the same side. I told Mickey I’d wait in front of Kamps bakery and started scanning the crowd. And what a crowd it was. It seemed like the entire town was up and about.

Then finally, when I already thought we won’t find each other and maybe I don’t remember anymore how he looks like, Mickey suddenly materialised in front of me. I asked myself how I ever thought I won’t recognise him. We both said hi in a rather awkward way and had a moment of doubting whether we should hug but decided to go for it. It was already about 12:40 and we decided to go and look for the Underdog Record Store which was only a few minutes’ walk from the station.

I happily let Mickey navigate (although we made a few wrong turns) and we tried to somehow become more familiar with each other. I remembered him as a very nice person who was pleasant to talk to and this impression was only confirmed. He told me about his university courses and about how exactly he happened to somehow be based in three countries at once. We talked a bit about Foals, but also about how this entire situation is a bit funny.

At some point I joked that my best friend was kind of shocked I was about to just go ahead on a trip with a “friend” I had only known for a few hours, and he laughed about that and said he’ll try to be a good companion.

We arrived at the tiny record shop way ahead of time and discovered they only sell vinyl. There was already a small queue, but we wanted to check out a bakery for food (not tasty enough) and a nearby Saturn for the LIY album. Just as I predicted the CD cost insane 18 €, but I gulped my guilt down and bought one, because it felt odd to arrive without any of their music.

[x]

The previous day I had already printed out some photos of the band members for Mickey and bought a strong white cardboard for myself for Yannis to write the lyrics of Mountain at My Gates. I was unsure whether that wouldn’t be too much work, but when we arrived back at the shop and saw Rachel and her friends Lea and Maggie, I saw it was not more work than they had brought.

Lea had a whole assortment of CDs and a big print from ENSWBL 1 deluxe she wanted to get signed. She wore a Pidge t-shirt and turned out to be quite the superfan, despite this being her first Foals concert. That was a good thing, because she craved to be at the barrier, and I knew we would be really late that day. So we were lucky I knew Rachel and could just come and join them later.

Rachel showed us the papaya and lemon she brought for Yannis, and we all burst out laughing, because it was a reference to his tweets about favourite fruit the previous day.

Speaking of the devil – suddenly a black car with tinted windows pulled up at the store. The door opened – and a very smol and tired Yannis emerged. We stared at him and awkwardly greeted him, and he also said hi to us and proceeded to vanish inside the shop.

Yannis wore his red shirt with flowers that day, together with obligatory black jeans and white shoes. At some point he sat down in the little adjacent café and some woman, who seemed to be part of their team, brought a pile of cards and pencils. It was a bit odd because not only could we see him, but he was also watching us.

The awkwardness was alleviated by Jack suddenly appearing around the corner with his foldable bicycle, stylishly sporting one of Yannis old t-shirts, the grey-white-orange one with circle and spot patterns. He folded the bike and carried it in, greeting us in a good mood. By now it was already 2pm, but Jimmy was not here yet. He came a few minutes later with a woman and we were like “Hi Jimmy! You are late!” and he replied “Yes, I know I know”.

I was starting to get quite nervous because we were one of the first in line, right after Rachel, Lea and Maggie. We caught a glimpse of Yannis with his papaya and giggled about it, but then it was suddenly our turn. I had joked that Mickey had to go first in case they will eat him alive, but they were in contrary incredibly sweet.

[x]

Mickey put the photos on the table to sign and they said the photos look really cool and wanted to know where they are from. I said, these are my photos and pointed out which are from Amsterdam and which from Berlin and they complimented me about them. He asked Yannis if they can play his favourite song Exits, but he politely denied, saying that they may play it at a later point. Mickey also asked them to record a small birthday message for his friend Sasha. Jack was the one talking, and the others just chimed in with Happy Birthday.

Now this was all taking quite a bit of time and their assistant woman (or whoever she was) wanted us to take a photo and move along but I said I still had some things to sign, sorry. The boys were very patient, but this woman clearly was not. Understandably so because there was quite a queue.

I started telling Yannis “Umm, hi I don’t know if you remember me, but we met in Berlin, I was the one who gave you the letter from Nikol.” And he was like “oh, yes, sure, I remember!” and proceeded to thank her for the letter and the Chili. He said he liked it very much and “it is made of ceramics, right? I wore it a few times, it’s great” and the others also seemed to know what he was talking about. Then he said, without me mentioning it, “and thanks also for the soap, it is really good”. By that time my heart had already melted, to be honest.

I asked them if they could sign the CD for Nikol and they all proceeded to do so, but then Yannis wanted to write her name and asked me “How do you spell that?” and my brain sort of short-circuited and I forgot the alphabet and helpfully said “err, with K”. Thankfully Mickey had not lost his brain and spelled it out for him.

To the dismay of the woman timekeeper I also asked Yannis very messily with compromised grammar whether he could write the chorus of Mountain at My Gates down for me “because it’s my favourite song and um err I always listen to it when err I- I think I can’t go on anymore and and I would hang it up on my wall and look at it” *facepalm*. Yannis said “yeah sure I’ll do that” but then he realised he did not know the lyrics and was like “umm oh I need to look that up” and I think even had the audacity to say “oh you should know your own lyrics” (while being too star struck to know them myself, mind you) and he apologetically told me about how it was difficult to remember them but how about I just leave the paper here with him and he’ll do it in between and hand it out to me later?

Of course, I agreed with that and was so happy and then we had to take one awkward photo in which I stood next to Jimmy and didn’t know where to turn myself… and then it was over and we went out.

I immediately sent out a voice message to N telling her about the Chili and then took a photo of the signed things. N first did not realise it is a signed CD and thought it is a card, but she was really happy about the news.

Mickey and I waited around for a bit to get the written lyrics. When the woman gave them out to me along with a little card, I couldn’t believe the precious gift I was holding in my hands. That song had really guided me through some heavy things and given me a lot of energy. To have it handwritten by the person who came up with the song in the first place is an invaluable gift.

We also sent everything to Charlotte, and she started screenshotting it and was excited for us. She did not know we’d be in Köln and so it was a surprise for her. Meanwhile she was already on her way to Glastonbury. Rachel and the girls departed after exchanging approving glances at each other’s signed things.

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Mickey and I turned to go back to the main station to get some food and get the train to our accommodation. On our way I asked him about his family and about his friend Sasha. Since he is Ukrainian, he had quite some things to tell about how he and his family experience the war. Thankfully they are all alright, although the situation is of course less than ideal.

At the main station Mickey got himself some sandwich and was kind enough to sponsor my vegan couscous. We sat on the steps leading up to the Kölner Dom and talked about work and university, before going in for a quick glance at the Dom. We then took the train with the number eighteen and made our way to the accommodation, which is in a part of the city that reminded us more of a village than a big city.

I was a bit nervous because he was so spontaneous with determining when we had to get out, but he just laughed and told me to relax. Granted, my sixth sense saved us from missing our stop. Still, he was good at navigating, and we made it to the house with the number twelve, located in a quiet street.

After ringing the doorbell once or twice a nice woman opened the door and told us to come in. She asked why we are in the city and we tried to explain in English and German that we were here for Foals and the city is packed because of Billie Eilish and Lorde. She was very nice and showed us to our flat upstairs and explained how the key worked. After introducing us to her sweet black curly dog, we were left on our own.

The flat was quite big, with a corridor, a bathroom to the left, a kitchen straight ahead and a huge living and sleeping room with a wooden balcony. The living room had a huge double bed and a foldable sofa, as well as a dinner table and a TV. The balcony led out into the garden with a view on an idyllic pond. To be honest, if it had not been for the price, I’d stayed in this flat for much longer than one night.

We freshened up a bit, re-packed our bags and headed out to catch the train to E-Werk. It was around 4:30 pm by now and I was nervous about the state of the queue waiting for us, although I knew Lea was already there. The train took its sweet time to arrive and we had to catch a bus after.

By now all nervousness had disappeared and I was just happy to have a companion with me. He told really funny stories, like the one about his colleague telling the waiter in the restaurant “Ich warte!” in an attempt to practice his German. Mickey himself has quite impressive German skills although he claimed that Dutch has ruined his pronunciation (which was nearly perfect the whole time).

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We finally arrived at the venue with the bus, together with another dude wearing a Black Bull t-shirt. Apparently the bus stop is just in front of E-Werk. Me wanting to be at E-Werk for Coldplay in 2014 made me think it’d be a beautiful venue, but it really was quite small and shabby-looking with huge windows.

Said windows were almost shattering from the sound of Egyptian Blue soundchecking. Thankfully Rachel and the others were already there and I also saw the guy from Berlin with the Inhaler t-shirt (and again I managed to not ask his name, goddamn me, I am hopeless). He was wearing a Foals t-shirt today though and sat next to us all on the steps.

We had to admit Egyptian Blue sounded better from the outside than the inside of the venue and joked we’d just stay out here until they were done. Suddenly we noticed Jack behind the bushes next to the tour bus inconveniently parked in plain sight. He was talking to the guy in the Black Bull t-shirt, who had told us earlier that he missed the signing session. I guess he wanted a private signing session now, but security dared to disagree and sent him out.

We did not remain seated quietly for long, though, because N sent me a tweet with the coordinates of a hidden vinyl. Mickey and I got up and running down the street in an attempt to get there first – too late! Only minutes after the tweet the vinyl had already found a new owner. It was great fun though running down the street and giggling, not caring what people thought about us.

By now it was almost half past six, nearly time for doors to open. Security took care to make rows and more and more people appeared, making us glad that we had a good spot. Mickey still needed to send me my ticket which he had gotten from Ticketswap.

And then it was time. Thankfully nothing happened, the tickets were valid, no questions about my bag… and Rachel did not even have to lie down on the floor like Charlotte to secure our spot. Again a perfect spot, right where Yannis would be!

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The only thing was that this time I was sandwiched between Mickey and the huge Berlin guy (I swear next time I’ll ask his name). But I tried to see the positive sides: with such strong guys next to me it was certain Yannis would come here for What Went Down. If only security had been this strong too… but more of that in time.

Now it was waiting time again. When Mickey went to the bathroom, some drunk guy from the back already wanted to steal his place, claiming he “just had to touch the barrier once to see how it feels”. Like dude… no. Touch it after the concert is over. We met Paula, who brought a bouquet of pink roses to the concert.

We were all very “enthusiastic” about Egyptian Blue who played as bashingly loud and bad as usually. But thank God that was over soon. And then they started to build up the Foals stage! Yannis microphone was set up right in front of my nose, a bit too much in front of me for my taste because I knew it’d be in the way all the time.

Mickey noticed that there appeared to be no screen this time – just a black huge banner that reminded us of something we could not point our finger at. We engaged N as a detective and found out it resembled the pattern on the black LIY vinyl. I prayed that the light would be good enough for photos.

And suddenly, shockingly on time, Foals appeared onstage with the known intro music and Wake Me Up. Yannis was really right in front of me again and had made the effort to change into another shirt (actually one of my faves). I felt like I overdosed with Foals in the last month, because not only was this the third concert but I also spoke to him twice. This all felt too unreal to be true.

He was in a good vocal shape, but somehow the vibe was different from Berlin and Amsterdam. They seemed to be a bit tired, although they tried to play a good energetic show. I remembered my purpose of a photographer and started testing out my new prism, to the surprise of and displeasure of the security guy in front of me. Well, I know it looks weird, but the results are worth it, man… and if even Foals say the photos are good…

At first the setlist had no surprises, only when they got to Looking High, we all got excited because that was a rare one. They had last played it in the UK, and only four times. Mickey was already sad because he thought they scrapped Life Is Yours, but to his surprise they played it right after.

I found the crowd to be more drunk but less enthusisastic than in Berlin and I missed Camille and Charlotte for the In Degrees jumping marathon and “Brighton Rock!” yelling. I think they should play Spanish Sahara right after in Degrees so we can all have a rest on the Floor, to be honest.

Yannis was a bit forgetful that day (although not with the Mountain at My Gates chorus, bless). He messed up the beginning of Looking High, and I have heard better performances of Inhaler. However he said “Dankeschön” in a very sweet way even twice, so my heart melted anyway. I will miss him a lot, because that was definitely the last concert of the year. I hope I can memorise how wonderful it is to have a whole concert (or three) to just see all with my own eyes and even speak to him on multiple occasions.

He came down to the crowd for Providence, but I did not catch his hand this time, only his shoulder on the way back (green shirt still leads in terms of softness, but this dotted one is a close second!). During the Encore break I told Mickey that we really need to go and get some food and drink after, because I felt really weak. No surprise in that.

They came back to play Black Bull and then – What Went Down. Now was the chance. We gave everything and hoped he would come to us. He gave away his guitar, climbed down and got up right to us. I thought this is too good to be true, and truly, it was: he decided not to climb up on the barrier today. I suspect, maybe he was being tired but also security stood there like it was their first day on the job and showed no signs of wanting to help him get up.

I can’t blame him for not doing it, but I was a bit sad still. He briefly went to the spot where Rachel and Lea stood, but then he climbed back up on stage. During Two Steps I already noticed just how exhausted I was. And then, suddenly it was over, and they disappeared.

We had no luck with setlists, drumsticks or plecs and they closed the stage area really quickly. I noticed that the entire right side of my T-Shirt was completely soaked in sweat, and it was not my own. My jacket, meanwhile, was safely waiting for me at home… We briefly said goodbye to our friends and then Mickey and I quickly got out to catch the bus.

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Somehow the rest of the evening added to the sense of all of this being completely unreal, like a glimpse of stolen life. I am well aware that many people do things like this on a regular basis and it is no big deal to go to a concert last minute in another city and meet new people and hang out with them.

However, for a home-sitting lonely introvert like me this is really far away from my usual life and still causes me to have some feeling as if everything is just another story I made up in my mind.

At the train station all food shops except one lonely Rewe were closed, so we went to get some shockingly healthy food (“let’s get Papaya with lemon”) and ended up with yoghurt, cereal, apples, wraps, a big bottle of sparkling apple juice (sadly no Sprite, sorry). We somehow forgot how thirsty we were and did not think of buying two bottles, so we shared ours while waiting for the train.

In the train we reviewed the setlist (Mickey was actually the one who created the concert date on setlist.fm) and realised they left out Late Night and Black Gold in favour of new songs. Then we arrived in our “village”. It was dark and I had no idea where we were going. Normally I’d be in panic in this situation, but oddly I felt very safe and incredibly happy in that moment.

We quietly snuck into the flat to not wake the owners downstairs. After eating and washing we talked for a while and it was sad he had to wake up so early next morning to go back, because late night talks are the most interesting. But it was already late, and we had to sleep.

I fell asleep and woke up startled by something when it was already morning. I turned around to find Mickey standing right next to me. I managed to say “oh my god”, and probably scared the hell out of him with my reaction because he asked “Are you ok?”. We had an awkward moment and finally managed to say “…good morning?”.

The goodbye was just as awkward as our greeting less than 24 hours earlier. We first stood a few metres apart and he was not sure about going for a hug or not. He told me to write to him when I was safe at home and suddenly I was all alone.

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I needed an hour to somehow get myself together enough to function again. I ate up, packed and dressed and left the flat after 7:45 to get a train to the botanical garden.

I think it is almost a tradition for me to visit the botanical garden in each city after a concert. There is something meditative and soothing about them, I thought, wandering through the Flora next to Köln Zoo.

Nobody was here yet except for some runners. I had all the time in the world to take as many photos as I wanted and calm down my hopeless brain. Amongst the roses and pink flowers I thought that this would be something Yannis enjoys: first a crazy concert and then the garden.

Afterwards I headed back to the main station in hope of visiting some museums. But the city center is not a welcoming place early in the morning. Most shops are closed and all the construction sites did not help with navigation.

The museums started scaring me, so I thought, “screw this2 and wanted to go to another park. But first I had a whole odyssey trying to find affordable vegan food (which turned out to be disgusting, sadly). In the park I sat down on a bench near the big pond to eat and write to N. By that time it was really hot already. I managed to get lost with google maps and eventually settled under the shade of a big tree.

There I found a four leafed clover which I showed to N and to Mickey, who did not know the concept of them as lucky charms. A mail reached me: my green patterned shirt had arrived, and I would be able to pick it up soon.

Then it was already time to go back to the station and catch the ICE to Hannover. The train was very full, and the air was thick. I originally wanted to write down my adventures but found myself almost sleeping instead. Even worse, we were significantly delayed, and I missed my second ICE by a minute. That meant I had an odyssey with two Metronom trains until I finally arrived in my home town, exhausted and ready to just eat and sleep.

It has been two days now and I still feel like it was all a fever dream, even as I sit on the sofa and look at the photos I took. Not entirely sure how any of this qualifies as a travel or concert diary still, but it sure as hell is a lot of reading material to remember.

#my concerts #foals köln #foals #yannis #jack #jimmy #my photo #liy

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