Lost in Translation in Düsseldorf
Get ready early - Check, Reach station on time - Check, Reach the platform on time - Check, Get on the wrong train - Check... Wait, what?
The enormous black and whiteboard at Dusseldörf's Hauptbahnhof train station lazily flipped around all the schedules in the world except the one I was waiting for. It wasn't before 10 minutes to departure, the train's name finally showed up on the screen. Now, all I had to do was turn into Flash and race up to my platform that only God knew how far it was!
I was studying in Madrid a few years ago when a long weekend bestowed upon me an impromptu vacation plan around the Schengen area. Due to my usual last-minute planning and prices building their own skyscrapers on Weekends, I finally settled for Amsterdam via Dusseldörf (because trains and cheap flights).
And so, here I was, finally making it triumphantly to my designated platform on time. The platform oddly reminded me of the Nerul railway station back home in Navi Mumbai, but the feeling was way far from it. That's when it struck me, the announcement was only made in German. A few months in Madrid, I managed to speak passable Spanish and glided around Italy with flying colors on my previous trip (say Spanish and Italian are like Hindi and Marathi), German was nowhere near it!
While waiting for my train, I thought of confirming if I am in the right place. In India, our Indianology says to keep calm and ask the 'Dukaanwala' With the same thought in mind, I walked towards the food stall on my left. A chubby German was behind the counter, giving back the change to a woman as I approached him with my question...in English. As luck would have it, he spoke little English though he understood my dilemma. A few dynamic hand gestures and broken English words later, he gave a validating nod that I was at the right platform. At that instant, a train entered the platform line I was at, and an announcement was made. I pointed at the train, he pointed at the train, and before anybody knew, I was inside the compartment.
And surprise-surprise, it was nearly empty. There were barely four to five passengers inside. I settled down, and the train started. The ETA to Amsterdam was in two hours. The train was leaving Düsseldorf, and my skepticism was entering my mind. It seemed we were going in the opposite direction of Amsterdam, and also because the speed of the train was snail speed. But the views were captivating enough to make me look at anything else. Stations arrived and were left behind, one after the other. It was a tour of the German countryside, those scenic landscapes stretched beyond the eye could see, tall trees, beautifully paved roads, and what an array of elegant houses. I was lost in them before I knew it. It seemed like 30 minutes had gone by when the train made a long halt at a station. The skepticism on the next seat tapped on my shoulder, and I opened my Google maps to see where I was and voíla! I was not only farther from Amsterdam, but also far from Dusseldörf!
There was ghost-silence on the train, and crickets creaked in my head. I was alone in my compartment. Just as I was about to finish biting my last nail on the right pinky when, to my relief, the train started in reverse. It was no rocket science to figure out that the train was going back to its destination, Dusseldörf. This relief brought me back to the scenic views I had just enjoyed on my way here. They were equally enjoyable on my way back and more so exquisite after the panic had vanished.
But wait, the story doesn't end here. The train was about to enter the Dusseldörf station, and I saw a ticket checker walking towards me. I showed him the ticket and explained my little adventure like an award-winning speech. He stared at my train ticket for a moment and then at me. Repeating what I had just told him, he sternly told me to get off at Dusseldörf. What he didn't know was how glad I was myself to get down as I did just when the train stopped. The rest was happily ever after as I went back to the ticket counter, bought another ticket to Amsterdam that was to leave after another excruciatingly loving two hours of waiting. Finally getting a moment to revise my morning's venture, I called up my mother and laughed my eyes off!
When I think of the whole event, rather than being annoyed and angry at myself, this incident has somehow added a much-needed beginning to the misadventures of my travels.
