colloquium

What song was number one in Germany the day The Wall came tumbling down?

Lambada.

Which content’s population recently reached 1 billion?

Africa.

Just two of the questions on the German Who want’s to be a Millionaire show I saw the other night. There are more German and other language channels than English channels on TV (well, the one in my room anyway).

I’m dead tired but I have to do this. This trip has been wonderful so far and this is my way of keeping a diary.

Yesterday I spent between the swimming pool and my room, packing and organising and playing chicken with the sun, which beat me hands down. Today I’m in my Red Indian attire. It was unfortunately also that day of the trip that I have to accept that life is not Ibiza and that by next week this time this would seem ages ago.

And I silently wept a tear for being on Ibiza all by myself. How I wish that I didn’t feel cheated by life. Actually thinking about life and my life in particular was very depressing. If I can be sad on Ibiza then neither money nor travelling the world is the answer. They are but supernovae in a dark galaxy far away from here. And I’m not the Jedi Knight in shining armour. Am I turning into King Solomon, looking for that one thing that makes life worthwhile, except I don’t accept his answer? Or was it that Moulin Rouge song that said the only happiness there is, is to love and be loved in return…?

So, as usual, I plan to be ready for the bus around 07:30 to take me to the airport and at 06:30 I was ready to go. Took a taxi to the airport which was rather busy! I thought it was a quiet little airport. Looking at the destinations it would seem that Ibiza is emigrating to Germany. In a matter of 2-4 hours there were flights departing to Munich, Dusseldorf, Leipzig, Stuttgart etc. My flight was on time. I thought sitting at the window would be cool for a change but I slept the whole way to Madrid, is not an awfully long way.

Got to Madrid and navigated the Metro all the way to the hotel I booked last night. I was seriously perspiring when I got here. I don’t know how these people do it. I spent two minutes underground and my shirt is like a towel in the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. It contains all the necessary salt needed for a very long trip.

I then phoned Mario. I was really looking forward to seeing Mario again. I met Mario in 1998 when I was working in Switzerland. He was also there through the same organisation that organised me a job at EPFL in Lausanne. When my mother and I came to Madrid end of 1999, Mario showed us around.

And now 10 years later we meet again. We went for a walk all the way to Plaza Mayor where we sat down for something to drink. This woman who draws caricatures of people approached me in awe of my front teeth. She was just dying to use that in her drawing of me. I felt somewhat offended but Mario assured me that she had no macabre intentions.

Mario’s father then phoned and suggested that Mario and I use his tickets to go watch football. So after coming back to take a nap, Mario and I went to watch Real Madrid play Tenerife. And I got to see both Ronaldo and Kaka in action! What a wonderful experience just being there and watching the Spanish crowd enthralled.

But Mario had a late night so after walking with me to the Hard Rock Cafe, he left. It’s my own little tradition to visit each Hard Rock Cafe where there is one. I bought a shirt here 10 years ago, but I have outgrown it.

My room is pretty small. Must be a single room. Two people would easily suffocate and die peacefully in their sleep. Check-out is only at 12:00. That is so cool!

So I’m going to bed now. I’m going to sleep until at least 09:00. I’ll check out around 11:00 as Mario and I will be going to the flea market somewhere. And then around 14:00 or so I should leave for the airport where I will catch a plane to Frankfurt and a bigger one tomorrow evening back to Johannesburg.