Karneval
is this incredible celebration that happens in the area of germany
we've been staying in for about 3 months of every year. the culmination
is in february when the whole area positively shits itself if i may be
so crude and turns into the all-singing all-dancing world capital of
frivolity. annabel and i jumped on the karneval jalopy on thursday -
traditionally the first day of crazy-fest proper, when the mayor turns
over control of the city (cologne) to the womenfolk and they run
through the town chopping mens' ties off. all very primitive and
unenlightened if you ask me as there are for more effective ways to
emasculate a man these days if one is so inclined, but nonetheless it's
as good a way as any other for the town to get off it's tits and run
through the streets like a mob of crazed costume-clad antelopes on
crack. what's that? i didn't mention the costumes?? ooooh yes, the
costumes. that's what makes this nut-fest so much more than just a city
full of people roaming the streets drinking - THEY'RE WEARING FUNNY
CLOTHES. what's that? it still sounds ridiculous?? oh shut up, you're
no fun at all.
the atmosphere was, and i do understand i will for the next two
words sound like an utter twat, positively electric - the people were
laidback and friendly, the costumes were amazing and the alcohol was...
i would say flowing, but it was more like cologne was marinated in a
titillating cocktail of kölsch (the local beer, see previous entry
about the düsseldorf-cologne rivalry for more info. after four days of
having it forcibly poured down my throat i've developed a taste for it
by the way...), jägermeister (say no more) and feigling (i would only
bore you if i tried to explain how awesome this stuff is.).
on thursday we called jens, who we knew was in the area for work.
he'd been drinking since midday and said he'd love to see us, so we
jumped on a train after uni, costumes in hand and a spare for jens, and
hurtled headfast into a world of drunken ridiculousness i could never
have previously imagined. the photos probably tell more of a story than
my words could, and let's face it, the recounting of silly drunken
tales is far more enjoyable for me in the reminiscing than for you in
the hearing, so i'll keep the details to a minimum. we wandered the
streets for a while, taking in the atmosphere and making friends with
strangers until we lost jens and co. - as we all know, the 'loss of
friends' moment tends to be a catalyst for crazy things either
wonderful or dreadful in the drunken night out system, and in this case
i would argue it was both. they called us to tell us they were on
Roonestrasse, at the Cubana Bar. we wandered around for a while before
turning a corner to see, looming before us with it`s shiny lights, the
very same bar we had spent a little too much time in just a few weeks
earlier, befriending the barmen with our tales of adventure and lies
about our sexual orientation. we shared a look of sheer terror and ran
inside in the hope of dragging jens out and saving ourselves the
embarrassment of being recognised. long story short, there are two
cubana bars on Roonestrasse (WHAT!?!? i know.), jens wasn`t in this
one, we were recognised, entry charge was waived and the free alcohol
flowed until they closed and we continued on elsewhere. at some point
during the night they began to cotton on to the fact that we're a pair
of raving heterosexuals. the giant bird may have had something to do
with it (please see photo gallery unless you are my parents,
grandparents or past employers). we stumbled home around 5am, vowing to
be more well-behaved for the duration of karneval. HAH.
On friday we hoped for a quiet night of
recovery - our hopes were dashed by an invitation from Ellie's brother
Norm to go out for a few drinks. Just a warning to any of you who may
one day travel to germany - i don't think the phrase 'few drinks' means
the same here as it does in australia. then again, maybe it's just
me... so this particular 'few drinks' was an 11pm start at a packed out
dance club full of people singing karneval songs, followed by an
almost-deserted possibly (A says definitely) gay club where a crazed lesbian prostitute (or so we
believe) forcibly bought us all drinks because it was her birthday ('SHOTS!! SHOTS!!!' she kept screeching. the woman was insatiable.), and
finally a world of madness called 'Micha's Kannchen', which is staffed
by people who look and dress like scary ex-sailors, opens at 5am and
serves breakfast alongside shots of whateveryoulike. suffice it to say
the patrons of this particular establishment were a brand all of their
own; by the time we got home the sun was already up.
Having ruined my plan of spending the day in düsseldorf with
basti i trekked on down there mid-afternoon and met up with the boy at
the train station. it was brilliant to see someone i have a connection
to and reunite with my good buddy in his home country. he then drove us
to cologne (autobahn, oh my god!) where we set off for the ghost-train:
a night-time parade through the backstreets of cologne. the idea of
this this parade is that it's a big two-fingers to the rigid tradition
of the main parade on monday, and it's just a bunch of people walking
through the streets with brazilian drumming groups on every second
corner, culminating in a writing swarm of people dancing to percussion in a tunnel. it's a very different atmosphere to the
rich-people-throwing-lollies
-at-poor-people extravaganza that followed on monday and it
was, if i may be such a 40-year-old, a tonne o' fun (no, i don't know
any 40-year-olds who would say that either...). no photos
unfortunately, you'll just have to take my word for it. after the
parade we met up with basti's cologne mates again and went to a gay
bar, of course, because THEY ARE THE ONLY KINDS OF BARS I EVER GO TO
HERE and when i'm not in a gay bar i'm in a straight bar pretending to
be gay!! this went on for hours and hours and we drank, danced and
stood in circles arm-in-arm singing karneval songs (they sang, i
pretended.).
On Sunday basti and i got up late and did so very slowly, then
cautiously made our way out into the sunshine for kebabs. we then
wandered into the city and met up with annabel and The Plain One for
some coffee (even though we knew all the coffee in the world couldn't
save us) and then went out for dinner with basti's mum and her partner.
They were two of the loveliest people in the whole world and dinner was
lovely. the barman incessantly brought beer as soon as the glasses were
empty but apart from my fear of drinking too much and giggling too much
in front of the adults, the evening was without mishap. we were in bed
by a respectable hour and slept like babies on valium in preparation
for...
ROSENMONTAG. this is the main day of karneval and involves
the big rich-people-poor-people parade, followed by, you guessed it,
more of the roaming the streets in costumes and drinking. fantastic. we
had alcohol for breakfast and trudged into the city, dreading the
expenditure of energy we didn't have and hoping it would be over
quickly (you can see what's about to happen here, can't you). After
meeting up with Annabel we watched the parade, marvelling at the
elaborate floats and the chocolate raining from the sky, until we
really thought about it and turned to each other, saying 'can you say
'class gap??' ' the parade is put on by a huge number of 'karneval clubs' - old boys' societies of rich people who spend incredible amounts
of money on lavish costumes and productions for karneval in order to,
well, show off how rich they are i suppose.
*cough*orcompensateforsomethingiguesswe'llneverknow*cough*. they
stand in their huge floats and throw chocolates at the commoners below,
who line the streets yelling 'kamelle!!' which, roughly translated,
equates to 'please rich people, give us poor bastards some chocolate
while we marvel at how fantastic and rich you are!!' (oh alright it
doesn't, it just means 'karneval lollies' but the meaning is implied.). we were somewhat
unimpressed by this idea and eventually stopped filling our pockets
with their trashy token gifts. the rest of the people didn't though,
they scrambled on the ground around us like vultures, illustrating
exactly what the difference is between the people in the floats and the
people on the streets. luckily it was over just as A and i began to
tire of it completely and after watching the end of the parade, by which time the rich people in the floats were simply drifting along, sipping expensive champagne and tossing whatever dregs they had left at the plebs in a most disinterested manner, we were able to get on with the drinking. we
wandered through the club area for a while before heading again to the
cubana bar (naturally) - this time because A had a hot tip-off that a
bit of eye candy we've seen around uni was going to be there. he
wasn't, and after accepting more extremely cheap alcohol from our
friends, basti and i took off, leaving A to soak up the attention of
the barman who had developed an interest in her on thursday. B and i
went to a place called 'boogaloo', which promised a lot on the basis of
the name alone, and, delivered. we stayed there for hours, dancing on
benches and making friends with everyone (one guy said he thought i was
doing a great job of being friendly and integrating everyone, i say i
was just being a tart and dancing with all the boys.). everyone loved
everyone else and for a few hours i was the carefree, hip-swinging
dancing queen i always wished i could be. i was also very drunk so it
could actually just have been 3 people in a dingy club gyrating like
whores on LSD. basti assures me it was exactly as awesome as i remember
though, and i believe him, because i know for sure i spoke to at least
8 boys so there must have been heaps of people.
once again, train home from cologne at 4am and Annabel and i spent about 3 hours awake on monday, wishing we weren't.
