German kebab

Ali was 28, was a turk living in Stutgard.

The intertesting thing about him was his occupation, he was an ambulanceman (never knew they called them that)

I picked him up at the station. He was the tallest man there. Even more prominent was his nose. The biggest I had ever seen. It was kind of his identity and fit oddly perfectly on his face, he wouldn't be Ali without the nose.

He got me a home made chocolate cake. It was the best I had ever tasted, probably because the wonderful woman who made it added that special ingredient of  'love'.

I don't think I came up to even half his height. I had to look up everytime I said something.

I took him to a nice pizza place and we got home, chatted a while and got to bed.

We talked of  how pillows were different all over the world.

I had had a crazy time the previous night, there in one of my random posts.

He woke me up the next morning, He wanted to ride a vespa!

We went to the rentals and did 'doubles' on a white vespa, going around the city.

The helmet I had to wear was so heavy and made me look like an alien. Ali kept hitting my helmet and I almost fell on my head, yes, THAT heavy, like my helmet was a GPS that detected something on the ground and was instantly attracted towards it...beep beep beep...knock...bang!

We had breakfast and a gelato. I tried the coconut flavour. Just reconfirmed the fact that I would never like the coconut and chocolate combination. EVER.

We looked like we were in an advertisement for some reason. Riding around the city, zig zagging through the traffic, jumping signals, going anti-one ways, and avoiding the police at the corners, which ironically took us longer to reach our destination. We even took a picture of our refelction in a mirror at a signal, showing the peace sign.

We went to a red bull fulgtag event where people had to build flying machines and jump off a cliff into a lake, trying to fly them. It was funny. Some of them fell right into the water and the others flew, well floated I should say like an inch before they crashed into the water.

The fliers had themes for their teams. One even had a harry potter theme. We took pictures with some of the famous men to take flight.Wonderfully retro! Reminded me of Duck Tales for some reason.

I got back early. Ali came in a few hours later all briused as he had crashed the vespa.

I didn't really understand what had happened at first.The irony of an ambulanceman getting into an accident.

I gave him some warm milk. He wanted it with honey. He wanted his mommy. He was 28. He had a theory that a mother should sense when their child is in pain and immediately contact them, no matter how far apart they were. His mother was in Turkey.

We shared a drink which was a temporary cure to numb his pain.

He told me how Germans had invented kebabs and played the 'Gorillaz' for me.

He left the next day.

He left me the sign board he had crashed into, it was a big blue one with a white arrow sign. He hung it in my room.

He left me some home made strawberry jam, his previous couch surfer had given him.

I haven't tasted it yet. Looking forward to have it with toast for breakfast tomorrow.

He gave me a coin from Copenhagen at the doorway. It look beautiful and he told me it was worth 40 cents.

Need a couch?

Ifagnunya, Nigerian, 24, Sociologist/Model

She was in Milan, she came to visit me tonight. She was tall, dusky and lean. Very african indeed.

She lived in new york for the past many years, jumping waitressing jobs, she did mention a cocktail service which seemed interesting.

Think she's barely surviving, but managed to save up the cash to travel. That's where all her savings go.

She was nice, talked a lot and there were things I found similar about our temperments, views, dreams.

We were both at a point where we could never be in a sedentary job, and wanted to travel around, meet new people and share new experiences.

Travelling would be my life, and I'll work during vacations. She really liked that.

She found my story about my career explorations very connect-the-dots like.

She never complained about anything, which I really liked. She was in Milan for a month and seemed to love it.

She is bunking with me tomorrow. I think we will have loads to talk about.

Once again I am getting the feeling, this is what I want to do for the rest of my life. Make the money to survive and the rest would just be plain adventure and passion.

Stroll in Geneva

Sergey, Russian, 33 years, Geneva

He  texted me his address when I was on the train. I found my way there asking around. There were some Swiss German speaking people on the train. In their language even talking courteously sounds like they are whiplashing each other with their tongues.

A man who sold carpets and fixed tables of some sort helped me out. I have his written directions with me still. He didn't know English and I didn't know French. But he directed me with sounds. tu tu tu tu for walking ahead and steeeecchhBOOSH for stopping, and ping for turning at junctions. 

I reached Sergey's place and he wasn't there. He came in twenty min and took me to his work place. He was a scientist who was trying to find a cure for cancer. His lab was linked to a hospital via a metal tunnel which was right out of a horror movie, one of those where they probably illegally transplant kidneys and then hide the bodies in huge underground vents, one which was right over me at the moment.

For a second there I thought he was going to pull out a knife and stab me, and then drag me and stuff me into a vent. Hmmm maybe use me for some experiments?

Anyways he guided me to an artificial geyser in the middle of the Geneva lake. I went near it and the water that sprinkled on me was so cold, but felt great under the heat of the sun. I lay down on the grass and took a nap.

I went to a park nearby and was excited to see an artificial wall put up on which anyone could paint on. I was given colors and brushed away. Someone took a video of me painting.

I rested on the grass, under the shade of a grandfather tree, the scent of picnic food and lotion in the air.

I also decided I would learn French as it was the sexist language I had ever heard. You could get away with swearing, yelling, screaming, anything, only if it was in French.

I found my way to a cruise to Cobbet.

The ship was beautiful and I lay on a hammock at the head of the ship basking in the cool breeze grazing me.

Had the best wine and cheese ever and even better dessert and went back on the deck with a happy high.

I got a wonderful table by a window opening out to the ocean. But I was alone.

I found my way back home with some help from ironically an italian woman!

I cycled around the city the next day, but the rain spoiled things. I saw a girl by the lake, sitting on the rocky ledge listening to music. I wanted to capture that moment, feeling.

I sat on the ledge and then raindrops got heavy.

I walked my cycle to an Indian restaurant - Hotel Bombay and then back to the rental. Rather be cold and wet than windy, cold and wet.

I walked back in the rain to Sergey's place and we made dinner together. He was in a good mood, reason being that his research during the past week had gone down the drain.

He worked on weekends too. He didn't seem to like company for too long and preferred his own quiet corner. He liked adventure sports, mountains and cold weather. 

We made spaghetti and it tasted amazing. He said he couldn't make out any difference when it came to food and I refused the urge to slap him.

He introduced me to Tiger Lillies Band, who mocked opera singing. They were the most creative band I've seen.

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dKQjCo0o8EY

I left the next day, leaving my jacket behind by accident. I had to reach P&G but lost my way.

A lady was nice enough to give me a ride.

I never once called Sergey by his name in the awkward apprehension of pronuncing it wrong.