Let me in

Some days as I sit at my desk and try to find some activities for my German students to do to kill time until the end of the year, my mind wanders to the times I've spent in German speaking countries.

One of my favourite places in the whole world, besides home, is Austria. A number of years ago, when Joyce and I were about two months into our dating relationship, I packed up my touring bike and panniers and flew to Zurich, Switzerland. My destination was Salzburg, Austria, but I wanted a drop off point where I could do a fair amount of cycling on my way to where I would end up. I very quickly realized that I had not planned nearly well enough. In fact, I hadn't planned at all for cycling in Europe. I had no idea of the system of autobahns and roads suitable for cycling. It did not take me very long to realize that I was in over my head, so I cycled to the nearest hauptbahnhof (train station) and booked a ticket for me and my bike to Salzburg.

I knew Salzburg quite well as I had spent quite a bit of time there three years earlier. The city and surrounding areas are filled with visual and cultural treasures way beyond imagination. I took the Sound of Music tour once again with Panorama Tours, felt the mystery of the city's hilltop castle, and made my way to the nearby town of St. Gilgen.

When I checked into the youth hostel, I was asked if I would like a key to get into the front door after hours. They said that I might need it if I wanted to stay out late at some of the local clubs. As I had never been to a club in my life, I immediately said "nein danke", and felt confident with my decision.

After sorting my belongings and claiming one of the eight bunks in the room, I headed off to the main walking area of town where I very quickly found a quaint restaurant with a patio. I sat down and ordered "eine beer, bitte". Not more than five minutes later, along came two lovely ladies from somewhere across the English Channel. It was nice to hear their conversation as a familiar tongue takes far less concentration to follow. We looked over at each other about twenty or thirty times when one of the two finally came over and invited me to join them. "Where are you from?" and all that nonsense took no time to pass on the way to their invitation to join them at a local disco. I eagerly accepted and couldn't wait to see a real club...a European club at that.

It didn't take too long for the lovely pair to figure out that I wasn't a willing participant in making pelvic sandwiches or playing tongue touché, as I was quite enamored with my fresh love back home. That didn't stop me from making an utter fool of myself when it came to doing some funky solo dancing to Van Halen's Jump. After that song, which noone but me seemed to know, I decided that it was time to go. I bid my lady friends adieu, I'm sure they were relieved, and headed back to the hostel.

About halfway there, I began to think that it may have been a good idea to have accepted that key to the front door. I spent the next two hours banging on doors and windows, and calling out, "Konnten Sie die Tür bitte öffnen?" ( Could someone please open the door?). I sat quite despondent for some time before someone finally came out from the inside. They were on their way out to a club. I thanked them, and, feeling quite relieved, went to my room.

As the the chap from China in the bunk next to mine snored away, I thought about clubs, and that I haven't really missed out at all.