GERMANY
Well, the first stage of the German adventure is complete; we had an uber fast flight, albeit with a shitload of turbulence, but I managed to sleep all the way through it anyway. This sadly means I most likely missed out on my promised 'Happy Picnic' courtesy of German Wings.
There seemed to be a lack of a promised Shuttlebus at Cologne airport for immediate hotel access. It may be possible I didn't look hard enough, or ask the two information point ladies enough questions so I ended up getting a cab in the end, though the first bloke had to oust me and pass me over to one of his friends because we got 3 metres down the road before he pointed out he wasn't sure where he was going.
Anyway, we made it. I've just been checked in in by a friendly bloke called Herman who may or may not have been more camp than Dieter, our steward, who pranced around like a German Gok Wan and made the whole thing so very very funny. Anyway, they both currently compete for the coveted title of best German gay.
I've spoken to 5 actual Germans now, and I'm finding it hard not to lapse into English. Not in the sense that I desperately want to converse in english; rather that as soon as I hit a pitfall or miss a crucial word, I go very quickly into a kind of verbal flail and spew out english in a german accent, or vice versa, or just end up calling them 'mate' accidentally.
This was most evident at Cologne airport information point, where I garbled my way through directions to the hotel, and felt a real retard. The general feeling so far is that the gayer the German speaker is, the better I understand them, so hats off to Dieter and Herman, the German gays.
This was particularly uplifting after I'd just been outdone by a girl who must have been about three who sat next to me on a plane. Sod you and your perfect grasp of the language, young lady.
So tomorrow I'm trekking to Cologne city centre to speak more German and head off to this training week. I'm not quite sure how I'm going to find the bus there, seeing as the Holiday Inn pretty much comes off a motorway roundabout/spaghetti junction. I guess I'll ask Herman.
This is all I have for you. Cue dramatic music.
Well, the first stage of the German adventure is complete; we had an uber fast flight, albeit with a shitload of turbulence, but I managed to sleep all the way through it anyway. This sadly means I most likely missed out on my promised 'Happy Picnic' courtesy of German Wings.
There seemed to be a lack of a promised Shuttlebus at Cologne airport for immediate hotel access. It may be possible I didn't look hard enough, or ask the two information point ladies enough questions so I ended up getting a cab in the end, though the first bloke had to oust me and pass me over to one of his friends because we got 3 metres down the road before he pointed out he wasn't sure where he was going.
Anyway, we made it. I've just been checked in in by a friendly bloke called Herman who may or may not have been more camp than Dieter, our steward, who pranced around like a German Gok Wan and made the whole thing so very very funny. Anyway, they both currently compete for the coveted title of best German gay.
I've spoken to 5 actual Germans now, and I'm finding it hard not to lapse into English. Not in the sense that I desperately want to converse in english; rather that as soon as I hit a pitfall or miss a crucial word, I go very quickly into a kind of verbal flail and spew out english in a german accent, or vice versa, or just end up calling them 'mate' accidentally.
This was most evident at Cologne airport information point, where I garbled my way through directions to the hotel, and felt a real retard. The general feeling so far is that the gayer the German speaker is, the better I understand them, so hats off to Dieter and Herman, the German gays.
This was particularly uplifting after I'd just been outdone by a girl who must have been about three who sat next to me on a plane. Sod you and your perfect grasp of the language, young lady.
So tomorrow I'm trekking to Cologne city centre to speak more German and head off to this training week. I'm not quite sure how I'm going to find the bus there, seeing as the Holiday Inn pretty much comes off a motorway roundabout/spaghetti junction. I guess I'll ask Herman.
This is all I have for you. Cue dramatic music.
