alice's peephole

“How was India?” “It was so great, the perfect holiday!” “What did you do?” Well, where do I start? Let’s begin with the end of the journey. In India, this is when you collect your bags from the conveyer belt, and drag it onto the trolley. Because outside the airport, most likely there is someone to receive you. This someone most likely owns a car, and you are saved the hassle of taking the train. To the train, to the other train that would take you home in Deutschland. So I did collect my bags from the conveyer belt and drag it onto the trolley. And I had arrived! It was like magic! Literally, since unlike #studentlifeInGermany, everything seemed to get done on its own. My coffee cups got picked up from all over the house, awesome food appeared on the table, my clothes washed themselves and even the groceries walked themselves into the fridge! Ok maybe someone did those things for me (thanks Mommy!), but that’s what is great about India! There’s a “wala” for everythi...

I didn’t think it would take that long or the moment would be so dramatic. I didn’t realise that I had been waiting 10 months for it to happen or that I would be able to pinpoint the exact spot where it did. I finally fell in love with Köln. I look now not only at souvenirs of the Dom in pride but also ones about the typical ‘Kölsche Tag’ with Halber Hahn, der FC and Karneval. Living, working and studying far away from the city centre, nestled in my own bubble of sports and dorm-mates, it had so far been a SpoHo experience and a German one, but not one to make me appreciate the light, slightly lazy Kölsch. What Kölsch did not manage on its own, that summer evening, in combination with “internationalised” Germans at Brüsseler Platz I was easy prey. Grabbing a beer at Le Kiosk with friends, and friends of friends, carrying out conversations in a drunken combination of Deutsch and English, the sudden summer showers and rushing into a pub just like the ones in Bangalore – I finally rea...