BORKUM, GERMANY
Amsterdam is a wonderful city and I strongly recommend going there if you have the chance. Aside from the tourist “shtick” (which I strongly suggest avoiding), the city and the surrounding area showcases historical forts, narrow houses, windmills, world class museums, places where they make wooden shoes, etc. All of which were very quaint and interesting. I’m convinced that in the time I spent there, I probably saw most of the city, but was also fortunate enough to see some of rural Holland when I was on the train up through the north when a friend of mine from Poland was working on a German island called Borkum.
Borkum, a small resort island is situated right off the coast of Holland. My friend told me to come up for the weekend and she would show me around. "Great, something to do for the weekend" I thought. So I took out my maps and looked were the ferry for the island left from and how to get there. According to the map the train's last stop was also where the ferry left from. "Perfect, this will be a snap. No problem. I'll take the train to the city, a taxi or bus to the docks and the ferry to the island and cab to the bank to get some German money meet my friend and have a good time." What could go wrong?
Well, let me tell you what could go wrong. To start with, Friday morning arrives and I waited at the tram station that would take me to the train station. I wait. I continue waiting. Getting edgy about missing the train that would take me up north to the ferry, I wait some more. I waited for 45 minutes and the trams that usually run every 5 minutes or so never came. Panicking about missing the ferry, I ran into traffic and grabbed a taxi to rush to the station. This is not the way I wanted to start my trip, nor a good sign. By the time I got there the train was ready to leave and I didn't have enough time to call my friend and tell her what time I was coming. But I thought "No problem. I'll call her when I get to the ferry."
The train ride itself was fine and I saw much of the countryside – cute, very picturesque, windmills, green fields, very…Dutch. I was a bit taken aback when we reached the last stop though. It was…a field. The last train stop was in a field. Nothing but a field and I stood there in middle of nowhere. No people. No stores. No phones. No taxi or bus stop. Nothing. So I walked to the little town expecting to find something, but again there was nothing. It was something like out of “Dawn of the Dead” or some other horror movie. No people, no taxis, no one on the street. “Where the hell is everyone?” I thought. Luckily though there was a plan of the city on the street with the direction to the ferry. Having no other way to get there I decided to walk. 5 kilometers!! Now you must remember that this is still the hottest summer in Holland (about 40+ Celsius) and not only am I carrying a suitcase, but I'm wearing a the wrong clothes for such a circumstance (long sleeves and pants) because I thought I would be able to get a ride everywhere and wanted to present myself in a nice manner. What I didn't plan for was hiking 5 kilometers with my suitcase, sweating like a pack horse, smelling like I lived in a barn, and looking like someone beat me half senseless. Ironically, by the time I was about ½ kilometer from the port, three taxi's raced by me, kicking up more dust and dirt on me.
Sweating, dirty and rather pissed off, I finally staggered up to the ticket counter.
“Hello” (pant, wheeze) “when does the next ferry to Borkum leave?”
"Now"
"Now?!!, right now"
"Ya, this is the last boat for the day."
I just made the last boat. Thank God. Granted I didn't have a chance to let my friend know that I was coming, but well I thought I would call her once I got to the island.
The boat ride over could only be described as a quiet two hour ride. Nothing exciting and I was able to clean up a bit before arriving. Of course, when we did arrive I remembered that I didn’t have time to exchange money for a taxi (this was all before the Euro) and had to walk to the nearest restaurant (2 kilometers away) to find a phone. When I eventually get there I was lucky enough to exchange a little money at the bar so I could use the phone. For some reason that I still don't understand I was unable to dial the right number and kept getting the police department. Now that I couldn't get a hold of my friend I decided probably the best thing too was take the bus into town, go to the bank and find a hotel. So I waited. And waited. And waited some more. I can't imagine where the bus was that took it so long to come pick us up because the island isn't that big! What made the bus ride into town more "interesting" was that when it did eventually arrived, it stopped at a military base and about German 30 soldiers on leave came on. Now, just for clarification, soldiers on leave of any nationality, is an “interesting” experience. So for the next 45 minutes, I sat there with a "deer trapped in the headlights of an on coming truck" expression on my face as I watched their shenanigans and faced their taunts. Rather like high school all over again.
We finally arrived to town and I notice that it was 4:55 and I decide to look for any bank immediately. I found one just as the person was locking up, who would not let me in. Through gestures at the sign they informed me that the banks close at 5:00. My watch said it was 5:02. (sigh.) I begged and pleaded with no success and the problem was that the next day was Saturday and banks were closed on the weekend. *sigh…well, having reached a conclusion with the money situation (only able to pay with credit cards), the next task at hand was to find a hotel room.
For me getting a room on a German speaking island was not nearly as easy as I thought it would be. Either the people didn't have a room to rent, didn't speak English and couldn't understand me, or when I spoke Dutch suddenly "remembered" they didn't have a room to rent to me, didn't speak Dutch, and couldn't understand me…hmmmm. "This is not good" I thought. I also thought about crying, but I needed a place to stay first. I walked all around the city until I found one place that would let me stay there. “Whew!” a wave of relief fell upon me. That was until I was signing the check-in book and I took a closer look at the wall behind the old woman at the register – and I swear this is the truth - on it were old photos of men in Nazi uniforms and other Nazi memorabilia (small flags, etc.). Ok, don’t misunderstand me, I understand that their men who were in the war were just as proud to be part of their heritage and military as well and that the military and Nazi party were separate institutions, but this is still a very disturbing (and I think illegal) sight. Regardless, I had a place to stay (aka Stalag 13) now I had to find my friend.
I went into the city to find a phone and see the city a little. I finally found the phone and as I was trying to use it three soldiers were drinking beer and decided to smash the bottles by throwing them at my feet. Soldiers on leave = good fun. After dodging some bottles though I decided I'll try calling my friend tomorrow and that I'll just go back to the hotel thinking that after a nice sleep everything will be better – after all, what could go wrong?
The next day I finally contacted the establishment where my friend worked only to have her boss insult me and then hang up on me. "Enough is enough" I decided and packed my bags to return to Holland. So I check out of the hotel and promptly marched to the bus terminal where I waited for an hour for the bus to arrive. When the bus did show up I asked the driver (in broken German/Dutch):
-Excuse me, is this the bus to the ferry?
-No, get off!
-Uh...O.K., but can you tell me where is the bus to the ferry?
-No, get off!
-Yes, I will, but can you tell me when the bus that goes to the ferry will come here?
-No, get off!
Upon which he then closed the door in my face and drove off.
After waiting another hour for the next bus I had a similar conversation with the next bus driver. By this time I'm furious and would like to beat someone's head against a rock (mine if no one elses'). I mean it appeared that no one wanted me on the island and here I was trying to get off only no one would help me (the irony of the situation escaped me at the time). Only to satisfy my curiosity I decided to see how much a taxi would cost, even though I knew I didn't have enough money on me. The taxi driver informed me that since I had a return ticket for the ferry that it was also good for the free shuttle train that take passengers to and from the town and ferry. I should point out that this train was running all the time behind me while waiting at the bus station.
When I arrived back in Amsterdam that evening, I almost collapsed from the sense of relief that overcame me. Hopefully, I learned my lesson…right?
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