A couple of weeks ago I wrote a post with my top 5 worst experiences being lost. I was relieved to have completed writing about the topic, and since I was leaving to Barcelona for 5 days and then leaving to Armenia shortly after coming back to Germany, I thought, "Well, at least I covered all the "getting lost" topics."
I was wrong.
My trip to Barcelona was great. But before I write about my unforgettable experience, let me tell a story of how I got lost two days before I left Oldenburg almost for good.
On the 13th of December, at 16:30 I took a bus from Barcelona to Gerona, where the airport was located. The plane took off at 18:10, 5 minutes later than scheduled. I reached Bremen at 20:15, and by the time I reached the Hauptbanhof of Bremen, it was 20:45, and I had to wait 25 minutes for the train to Oldenburg. It was 11 sharp when I checked the clock in Oldenburg train station. Now, ideally, I would wait for 15 minutes for the bus number 308 to get to Johann-Justus-Weg. But an idea popped up in my head and I thought, "Hey, I should hang out in the city centre tonight, it's Friday!"
I called one of my friends whom I didn't have the chance to say goodbye to, and asked if he wanted to grab a couple of drinks, thinking that I would go to my room, chance and go out with my bike. Unfortunately he told me he didn't have his bike and that he can meet me earlier. I said ok, thinking that I would quickly say bye and catch the last 308 bus to JJW, then peacefully go to sleep, so that I have time and energy to pack for Armenia the next day.
The goodbye took longer than I expected and I thought that we would split the cab home. Instead he offered to catch the night bus, which actually nobody has ever heard before, but it existed.
I looked at the stops of that "magical" bus (magical, because had I known it existed, I would have used it other days as well) and there was a stop "Rauerhorst" which was exactly 3 stops away from JJW, and I have crossed that street numerous times on my bike. It shouldn't have been far, so I thought - let's give it a try and not pay 20-30 Euros for a 7 minute cab-ride home.
That was a wrong decision. But if I didn't take the bus, I wouldn't have the story to tell.
At 3:30 am or so, and after a one-hour-and-a-half-long cruise all across Oldenburg, I finally heard "Rauerhorst". I pushed the stop button and asked the bus driver "Wo ist Johann-Justus-Weg" to which he pointed left (or right, I don't even remember) and opened the door. I got out, thinking that I will get there in half an hour, forty minutes tops.
To my surprise I saw... nothing. It was that dark. Where to go? Which direction to take?
I started laughing at myself, because I have been lost so many times that I am already used to it. I wasn't scared, nor panicky. I just started walking, knowing that in worst case scenario I will end up outside of Oldenburg and kind German people will bring me home.
A little while after I saw two people on their bikes, riding towards my direction. I kindly asked "Hallo! Sprechen Sie English?". They were two teenage guys, who stopped and said that they don't have navigation, but their friends might.
To my surprise I saw... nothing. It was that dark. Where to go? Which direction to take?
I started laughing at myself, because I have been lost so many times that I am already used to it. I wasn't scared, nor panicky. I just started walking, knowing that in worst case scenario I will end up outside of Oldenburg and kind German people will bring me home.
A little while after I saw two people on their bikes, riding towards my direction. I kindly asked "Hallo! Sprechen Sie English?". They were two teenage guys, who stopped and said that they don't have navigation, but their friends might.
Two minutes later their "mysterious" friends came, so, I was surrounded by 5 underaged youngsters and of course, the first thing that came into mind was a headline on next-day's newspaper called "Collectively raped and dismembered Turkish immigrant found dead in the forest next to Johann-Justus-Weg"
While the guys were looking at the navigation software trying to figure out how to get to JJW, I tried to convince myself that collective rapes and dismembership of body parts are much likely to happen in movies than in real live, and that at least the hypothetical article on the newspaper would write "Armenian" instead of "Turkish" as my Passport and ID were in my purse.
The guys turned out to be nice. Too nice. Realising that their directions (100 meter straight, then left, then right...) would not get me home safe and sound but rather confuse me even more, they offered to take me home. Surprised, and still a little freaked out, I agreed (thinking that going home alone would be no fun after all).
All five of the guys had bikes, but chose to walk with me. That was super nice of them, taking into consideration that during the 4 months I have lived in Oldenburg, I have met 4,5 Germans who were nice to me (no offence). I thought to myself that I might have misjudged them too soon and that the final 10 days in Oldenburg may still change my idea on the level of hospitality in this city.
We started talking. I was asked a bunch of questions like where I was from or what I studied, and what languages I spoke (to be safe, and judging from experience, I chose not to say that I knew Russian or that my country is anyhow related to Russia). Then, there were questions like "Which language is better: Armenian or German?" to which I tried to be politically correct saying, from the professional point of view of a linguist, all languages are equally beautiful. Then I stared asking them questions like what they wanted to do when they grew up, or if they liked traveling. We walked for about 45 minutes. I was walking like this vip person surrounded by 5 handsome bodyguards, slightly underage, but really tall.
We really hit it off. The guys told me that they wanted to attend a house party, but they were not allowed to get in for some reason. I told them, they had I known I would meet such nice guys, I would have thrown a party and invite all of them.
When I reached JJW, and it was time to say goodbye (I mentally prepared a nice speech beforehand, praising them for the good deed like helping a lost exchange student get home) one of them asked me if I was on Facebook (and I thought it was so cute) and if they could add me. Of course, I said "yes", and then, something even cuter happened: "Can we take a picture with you and add on Facebook?"
I told them that they were the nicest guys I had met in Oldenburg, and that if I had known them earlier, we could have hang out and they could meet my friends, and go to a party or something. Then one of them sent me a friend request on Facebook after we all took pictures (some with my camera, as I knew I would blog about this). When they asked my name, and I said Laura (with German accent, pronouncing "r" like Armenian "gh") they were like "WOOOOOW!! You have a German name!!! My sister's name is Laura!" Haha. Surprising foreigners with my name never gets old. Everyone thinks that Laura is very "their" name (very Italian, very Colombian, very German, very Spanish, very Catalan, very everywhere-ish)
But the cutest thing happened when I reached home. Of course at 6 am I had to go online and check Facebook. I added the guy immediately (and sent a friend request to the rest 4 of them) and wrote a status on Facebook:
and shortly after, Voila!!
In my list of adventures, getting lost this time was definitely the one I would call "The one with the cutest consequences!"They made me reconsider my attitude towards Oldenburg. :)
While the guys were looking at the navigation software trying to figure out how to get to JJW, I tried to convince myself that collective rapes and dismembership of body parts are much likely to happen in movies than in real live, and that at least the hypothetical article on the newspaper would write "Armenian" instead of "Turkish" as my Passport and ID were in my purse.
The guys turned out to be nice. Too nice. Realising that their directions (100 meter straight, then left, then right...) would not get me home safe and sound but rather confuse me even more, they offered to take me home. Surprised, and still a little freaked out, I agreed (thinking that going home alone would be no fun after all).
All five of the guys had bikes, but chose to walk with me. That was super nice of them, taking into consideration that during the 4 months I have lived in Oldenburg, I have met 4,5 Germans who were nice to me (no offence). I thought to myself that I might have misjudged them too soon and that the final 10 days in Oldenburg may still change my idea on the level of hospitality in this city.
We started talking. I was asked a bunch of questions like where I was from or what I studied, and what languages I spoke (to be safe, and judging from experience, I chose not to say that I knew Russian or that my country is anyhow related to Russia). Then, there were questions like "Which language is better: Armenian or German?" to which I tried to be politically correct saying, from the professional point of view of a linguist, all languages are equally beautiful. Then I stared asking them questions like what they wanted to do when they grew up, or if they liked traveling. We walked for about 45 minutes. I was walking like this vip person surrounded by 5 handsome bodyguards, slightly underage, but really tall.
We really hit it off. The guys told me that they wanted to attend a house party, but they were not allowed to get in for some reason. I told them, they had I known I would meet such nice guys, I would have thrown a party and invite all of them.
When I reached JJW, and it was time to say goodbye (I mentally prepared a nice speech beforehand, praising them for the good deed like helping a lost exchange student get home) one of them asked me if I was on Facebook (and I thought it was so cute) and if they could add me. Of course, I said "yes", and then, something even cuter happened: "Can we take a picture with you and add on Facebook?"
I told them that they were the nicest guys I had met in Oldenburg, and that if I had known them earlier, we could have hang out and they could meet my friends, and go to a party or something. Then one of them sent me a friend request on Facebook after we all took pictures (some with my camera, as I knew I would blog about this). When they asked my name, and I said Laura (with German accent, pronouncing "r" like Armenian "gh") they were like "WOOOOOW!! You have a German name!!! My sister's name is Laura!" Haha. Surprising foreigners with my name never gets old. Everyone thinks that Laura is very "their" name (very Italian, very Colombian, very German, very Spanish, very Catalan, very everywhere-ish)
But the cutest thing happened when I reached home. Of course at 6 am I had to go online and check Facebook. I added the guy immediately (and sent a friend request to the rest 4 of them) and wrote a status on Facebook:
In my list of adventures, getting lost this time was definitely the one I would call "The one with the cutest consequences!"They made me reconsider my attitude towards Oldenburg. :)
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| I look ridiculously short. Mama mia! |
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