“Put your hand up, put your damn hands up!
Tonight is my life, because tonight I’m a sinner!
Keep your hands up, keep your damn hands up!
Tonight is my life, it’s an assault on my liver!”
As these remarkably honest rock & roll lyrics launched out into the perfect warm June air above the chattering tables of university students and studiers-abroad, I thought to myself “Maybe I like Germany after all.”
My first big trip, solo backpacking across Europe, began in Frankfurt. I remember rushing currents of people with purpose, reminding me that I had none (amazing how challenging it is to be unemployed) and a jet-lagged nausea at not knowing what to do with myself. I stayed three days, which was two too many, then a fourth, because the guy who sold me my train ticket didn’t tell me it left from
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