For All The Cows – My Experience With Reading (Or lack of it…)

For All The Cows – My Experience With Reading (Or lack of it…).

Hostel Review: Caledonian Backpackers, Edinburgh

Hostel Review: Caledonian Backpackers, Edinburgh.

The Downfall Of Us All

You can’t buy motivation.You can buy alternatives i guess. A tab of ecstasy,two weeks in Zante and a huge pair of tits should get the blood flowing  but lets face it – all three won’t last forever. True motivation starts from the bottom and works its way up (Not physically guys). It essentially requires one thing. Change. And ironically most change requires one thing. Motivation. Let’s put it this way. We all have a breaking point.For the sake of argument lets call it a magic line (Which i guess could also class as a motivator depending on what your line consists of).

A line between being productive and being lazy.And I’m sure everyone will agree it’s far easier being lazy than being productive,especially with the sheer amount of distractions around. Yes – I’m looking at you Facebook. However mapping out that magic line in your head,however long or short it may be is a start. Figuring out the boundaries,getting to the edge and hopping over to the better side is the true battle.

For those of you that know me well should know that I’m full of ideas (again  – draw that magic line. The margin between an idea and shit is rather fine) Acting on these plans has been somewhat hit or miss in the past. I’d say I was mostly all talk but with the best of intentions.Not that I lie. But I tend to have a grand scheme which in theory is perfectly achievable. I just didn’t act on it.

I have realised you have to be realistic with future plans without necessarily stamping out dreams of walking on the moon or owning a hotel. I think it’s important to have ambitions and goals. However making them achievable ( in your own mind. Not anyone elses) is important. It makes getting there all that more easier when you know deep down – you can do it. Pipe dreams are only that when there is nothing to build the dream from.Reaching for the stars,thinking failure is the only option can be destroying to morale and motivation.Realising failure is not an option can help building in many senses.But as most things. It starts from the ground up.

How many of us work better under pressures and deadlines? And how many of us squander our time when not being pushed?And how many blogs am I going to write in the style of a pyramid scheme or scam e-mail? Boggling.

Anyway.

Keeping things in perspective,under control and close enough to touch can be the difference between one side of the magic line and the other. I believe  in something worth having doesn’t come for free and I hope most people feel the same. Essentially – you get out what you put in. That walk on the moon won’t come without serious training,hard work,sacrifice,self-control,money,guidance and a huge slice of luck. So having ambition is a great thing. Having the tools to go with the ambition is essential for any of your aspirations to come reality.And the main tool is of course – motivation.

And now onto the point…..

I know time and time again i’ve harped on about this,that or the other,mainly trying to convince myself rather than you guys on my grand plans for life. As I sit and reflect I have come to the conclusion that success has been a mixed bag however I am definitely on the right track. Not in terms of a career,a house and all the rest that comes with being a grown up,but in terms of personal development I feel i’ve came on leaps and bounds.I’ll roughly go into what I wanted from life recently and what I have or haven’t achieved,bundled in with a whole lot of excuses for my actions.

It wouldn’t be me without them.

More recently; I wanted to write a book:

Not even close. I can’t even find the (Insert word of the day) to write a blog nevermind a novel. Although that being said at least it has constantly been on my mind. I think about it all the time. I actually edited one of my pieces right down to enter into a short story competition but was still over the allocated allowance. I didn’t want to change much more so I left it. But i have found a great site that tells you of up coming contests and i have been keeping an eye out. I have a couple of ideas and as the criteria is so varied from competition to competition,I’m just waiting on the right one to come along. Still – I should be writing a lot more.It’s something i truly enjoy and get something out of it. I know what i have to do (ie – forcefully fuck Facebook right up the ass and let it bleed to death.Harsh but at least you get my point) but of course – it’s just a matter of acting on it! Expect a couple of reviews in the near future as I am going to try my hand at that. Yes expect. But don’t bank on it.

Bank on natural disasters. Then you are onto a winner. The world has gone to shit. Again.

I wanted to travel:

Well you all know I grabbed the ball and ran with it on that one. I’m still in Germany as I write this feeling a lot better about it. I love the town but hated my job. I love my girlfriend but hate desperate housewives. You have to take the good with the bad. I can live with the latter and literally do,however the job was a major problem. I could not stand it. I’ve worked in a lot of places for a lot of different people in my short life, but nothing quite tried me like La Cucina (You may remember an earlier blog entitled the same).To cut a long story relatively short,there was a lot of issues which made working there really not worth it,despite how much I needed work. Even thinking of writing about it makes my head hurt so I’m not even going to bother. The final straw was getting 100 Euros taken off my already shabby wage,for breaks i had never,ever taken. ridiculous. And insulting.Especcialy for someone who works as hard as I do.

So I moved on and now work as a chef in an Irish Bar. Pretty simple and a lot better for my sanity and morale.It’s not easy starting from scratch in a new Country. You need to catch a break.I feel a i caught a bad one.I wasn’t happy.And I was seriously seeing cracks emerging working in the Italian. It feels good to have my head out the gutter and back on track. And I get paid so much better and treated with a little more respect. Not treated like a fucking idiot.With the next trip booked for October through till February I have something to work towards now. And the hours are rolling in. We will be away before we know it.

I wanted to teach English:

On the lead up to Christmas i was working on my English teaching Course most days and was feeling pretty good about it. I really enjoyed the creative side of it (Lesson planning,teaching methods) but the grammar was driving me mental. Still – in typical fashion i rushed through it carelessly,knowing that i had to pay a fine if i went over the allocated time. The difference being that this time i actually passed something and felt pretty damn good about it. You see – I have only worked full-time since school,and school in itself was one big failure. I have done very little learning since and to pass something (as little as it may be in comparison to a degree or a HIV test) meant the world to me.I am easily distracted and to focus and follow through on something I had started was a big deal for me. I actually look forward to doing more. Again this all boils down to motivation. If i had failed i would have been in my underwear,smoking a twenty pack and jakking off to red-tube about now.

Sadly I won’t be able to use this qualification anytime soon as i already have plans stretching well into next year. However it’s good to know it’s there for me and always an option. It was originally what i wanted to do.

I did teach my first class during my time here. A group of 6 kids ranging from 4 to 7. Pretty daunting.But that’s a story for another day. I did pretty well however around six people were going for the same job. You just can’t compete against five pedophiles and Kate Mccann. I didn’t stand a chance.

Now for a smaller scale:

I want to punch Sarah Cox square in the face – If motivated enough – Achievable.

I want to go to Wrestlemania - definitely achievable.

I want to double the amount of dishes i can currently make and perfect the ones I can – Well on my way I’d say.

I want enough money to have fun whilst i travel – Again,on my way.

I want a career sooner rather than later – yeh that’s one for next year i think. Petra is moving to the UK and i see that as a good opportunity for a fresh start. I can’t work in bars and restaurants forever. Nobody wants a grey pubic hair in their soup.

I want to lose this beer gut once and for all! – meh. You know what like. Beer here,beer there. Unless I am playing sport I find all offer forms of exercise a drag. Who wants to sit up when you can sit down? Yes. I should really read my own words and take my own advice on that one.

I want to watch another channel that isn’t CNN or BBC World - Not possible unless it’s in German. I refuse to watch MTV regardless of what Country I’m in.

I want to speak German – Getting there but I have nowhere near put in the work I should be. Although I have a great opportunity now as the chef at work speaks no English at all. I should really take advantage of that and kill two birds with one stone.

I want to be motivated – Hurray! I bet you didn’t see that coming?…..

Everything is achievable if all the pieces in your life are set up in a certain way,that makes any task big or small seem effortless.For example, the difference between going to bed that hour later or getting up an hour earlier can shape and mold the day ahead. Of course im only speaking of my own experiences. Some people are more motivated than others. When I arrived in Germany I had grand plans to learn the language,go out and make some friends,play football and generally insert myself into the community. It didn’t happen and as much as I should take responsibility for myself, I partly blame my job. I was there most nights and can not stress how much I hated it. It was dragging me down and being the sensitive soul I am, became quite down-hearted. It left me with hours to kill during the day which were mostly spent on the internet,cooking and worrying and stressing about going to work. I found it impossible to become motivated. Now that I have another job which is far more easier to stomach,i’ve found a new lease of life over here. I’m feeling better and being more productive with my time and generally more upbeat about the day ahead,despite inevitably going to work in the evening. If you spend so much of your life in one place it is important you get some sort of enjoyment out of it however little or large it may be. It can be said for other situations. Mental girlfriends,having kids and too much Uni work i guess could all potentially drag you down.  Everyday needs a balance. It’s about finding a balance that’s good for you near to that magic line. Setting up camp to far away can result in wasted hours becoming wasted days. Wasted days becoming wasted weeks. And wasted weeks becoming months and years. When you inevitably move onto something else in life whatever it may be,do you really want to regret wasted opportunities? In my opinion wasted time is just that. A wasted opportunity. Being motivated can have unseen importance,between grabbing on and letting life pass you by. Living on the edge for whatever may come your way can – make all the difference.

That’ll do it for today folks. A big thank you to everyone I met up with over the past couple of weeks,back in the UK. It was great seeing you all and it won’t be too long untill we cross paths again. Untill then i will remain in Germany untill the Summer,before returning home to find work in Aberdeen for three months. So I will see some of you over the Summer.

Take it easy.

Crocker.

Breaking The Habit

Bad habits come as natural to me as a duck to water.I have the classic list of bad stuff going on.Nothing mental like wife-beating or stealing from topshop.You know – the usual. Smoking, drinking, watching too much porn, biting my nails, reading ‘the sun’, not washing behind my ears, forgetting birthdays etc. Nothing too drastic and they all come and go. I live with them on a daily basis. However this isn’t to say im happy about that. In fact at times it can be pretty upsetting.

I’m really not the strongest of people despite my out going nature.My bad habits have a history of haunting me and it’s something ive grown to accept,despite knowing exactly what i need to do to end them.I seem to constantly put myself into the path of temptation and when it boils down to it i rarely win these battles,despite my efforts. But habits are habits for a reason. They are designed to let you take the easy way out and allow you mull it over later.Quite a contrast of good versus evil im sure you’ll agree.

I know the solutions.We all do. I tend to put the feeling of guilt behind me rather quickly as this requires more thought than i really feel necessary or in other words – more than i feel comfortable with. However like most things in life, these things tend to catch up with you and be it big or small, all bad habits must eventually be dealt with one way or another. Bad habits are fine if kept in check. It’s when you let these impulses take over the penny will drop at sompoint.

It has dawned on me(and not for the first time) that my moral victories have mostly came the hard way and i write this as an example on how not to handle things.I won’t get all preachy but i would like to share my experiences with you, one of which my family doesn’t even know of.I’ll get into why later.As i said i have learned the hard way through my own damn doing, and  the only reason i have curbed my habits in the past is through being hurt by it in some way or another,which isn’t really anyway to go about things.

Firstly i will look into alcohol as i believe this was the catalyst to some of my bad habits today.I’ll give a completely honest view on my experiences so if you don’t want to read about me reminiscing,watch this instead.Mental.

I remember the first time i was hammered (apart from the family holiday to Malta when i was eight but that was a complete accident),was a New Years party at Pappagallos, when i had just turned Thirteen. It was closed for the night but we had friends and family round.As expected i was allowed one beer and that was my lot.The Kitchen Porter at the time was 17-year-old Jono Bell who had brought a friend along,aswell as a bottle of Morgans (I’m sure you can see where this is going).I recall finishing my beer then proceeding to knock back half of the Morgans when the lads had turned their backs. Needless to say,i was fucked and ended up on the kitchen floor,lying in my own sick before the bells to the delight of my parents friends and family.Mess.

But that was it for me. Didn’t really touch a drop untill i was Sixteen and that’s when the fun began.Countless memorable parties got the ball rolling and of course it wasn’t a case of drinking to be sociable at that age. It was to drink as much as i could as fast as i could,anytime i could. Most of my friends began to take it in their stride,and handled their drink a bit better than i did.Sadly it wasn’t really the case for me.

It really was a roll of the dice with how I’d handle my booze. Sometimes i was aggressive,loud and tactless but overall pretty harmless.I was a bit of a handfull.My friends always looked after me despite the states i would get myself in. These things didn’t worry me atall.I always had a good time. What did bother me was that it was at the expense of others. I had zero filter and whatever was on my mind I’d say. This really started to get to me as i would either regret things i said or not remember saying them.Recently Paul and I had this conversation. We talked about how none of the crowd we seen week in week out in the clubs actually liked us much,but we didn’t care.It’s true. We didn’t and had some awesome times.Infact our group of friends really didn’t give a shit and together we  had the most amazing times.

I was still in this frame of my mind when i left to travel.That’s when i realised a lot of things.One of the things addressed was my behaviour when drunk.Being in Aberdeen for that long moulded me into someone i didn’t like and i took this away with me.It was one night in Vietnam that changed the type of drunk i was for good and that one night alone changed things forever.

I have actually written about this incident in the blog ‘The Ballad Of Me And My Friends’ which you can read here -

http://rollingcrock.wordpress.com/2009/11/04/the-ballad-of-me-and-my-friends/

To this day i feel like i have a good grasp on my drinking and nine times out of ten – feel in control. If i hadn’t left Aberdeen I’m not sure i would have found that level of maturity with alcohol. It took  feeling ashamed and embarrassed about myself to change my ways. I’m glad I’m not a dickhead anymore. Or at least don’t feel like one.

The morning after the train.

Now i wouldn’t necessarily say drinking was a bad habit. At times perhaps however the years i smoked weed certainly was.And was more destructive for the brain than reading ‘The Sun’ everyday.

Now smoking does different things for different people with varying effects.Sure we are all have disks for pupils after a spliff but in the longterm people handle it in different ways (much like drinking).This is an account of the effects it had on me.

I started when i was Seventeen and smoked pretty much most days untill i was Twenty or so.Not really that long in the life of a stoner i guess but it was still enough time to fuck me up. Initially i had a great time with it.Some of my fondest memories are the adventures we went on and the fun we had. I had around ten different places i could go if i wanted a smoke. I just needed to ring the buzzer.The trouble started when it became boring.And i mean really boring. It was no longer fun to sit around a flat on a Saturday night,watching Family Guy and eating shite. It got repetitive however i continued to do it. It wasn’t the start of my problems, however it was the beginning of my downfall.

I had moved out of home for the first time and moved in with Andy and Wilson.Moving out  gave me ample time to smoke my lungs out from the comfort of my own room. I didn’t have to leave the flat to be bored anymore. I could do that on my own! It soon became a morning,noon and night thing and escalated into a  problem.Everyday i smoked without fail and at this point i was still enjoying it.

Eventually after a few months i moved back home.My first venture away from home was always going to be a failure despite what i thought at the time.The real problems started from here.I remember not being able to adapt very well to the transition. I couldn’t smoke all the time in my parents house and i really wasn’t enjoying the feeling as i once did.Infact i started to really dislike it. One thing i had noticed when smoking with friends is how paranoid i became with every word i said. Sometimes i was afraid to talk. There seemed to be this other sensible voice in side of my head,constantly telling me what i was doing wrong and judging what i said.This had now transferred to smoking alone and i would find myself going mad with it as i really couldn’t switch it off untill the weed had worn off.

At this stage i wanted to quit.But i couldn’t. I started to hate who i was becoming but felt a bit powerless against it. I then started feeling incredibly down after every joint. So much so that i couldn’t answer texts,talk on the phone or even look in the mirror. I would lie in my room instantly regretting what i just did. I felt like i was cracking up. My parents knew and questioned me about it but i constantly denied it. There was no more fun to be had. I had to give up.

Much like my behaviour when drunk there was ‘a final straw’ for me and it happened at Leeds festival,a place where i enjoyed smoking so much the years before.It was late at night and we were all sitting round the campfire.I had brought some weed down with me but i really didn’t want to smoke it. However i did and instantly i regretted it. All the shite things that kicked out the good came back again and i knew right away that i had enough. I left the group without saying goodbye and walked into the arena to find a quiet place to sit away from everyone and see it out. I didn’t want to be like this anymore. I was miserable and couldn’t even enjoy a beer with my friends. It was beginning to really fuck my life up.I came back hours later after the feeling had diminished.

I’ve given up now with only a couple of minor lapses since then. Some people seem to think that smoking weed is harmless. Well I’m not here to judge that nor want too. I can only account for my experiences. It took me a whole year after quitting to really feel right again. I felt like i was talking into a bubble. I know people who have been smoking a lot longer than me and are perfectly fine. I know people who aren’t. I couldn’t smoke again.However i do enjoy JK -

One bad habit that still crops up from time to time is gambling.Now gambling, hands down gave me one of the worst nights of my life and one i didn’t talk about often as it still bothers me  to this day. I have never been a good gambler,from coupons to cards I’m pretty useless but get a kick out of it nevertheless.I have fond memories of spending every last penny on a bandit and have to walk home. And for what? A few quid in coins.Better than a few pounds in chips i guess.I had my fair share of those too( chippers not casino chips) In exodus I’d walk back and forth to that bandit all night with my success rate of winning (and pulling)being pretty small.I don’t even know how to play them(Bandits that is.Not woman.I don’t play woman either.Just hungry hippos).

The night in question was not long before i went travelling. I had began playing roulette online but again,having no clue how it worked.The spin of the wheel,the sounds,the colours and the possibility of winning big hooked me.I remember on my first day of playing i bagged 300 but risked a silly amount just to get that. I had no system or strategy. It was either stick a hundred on a colour or randomly cover random numbers. I remember feeling great about it and that night went back for more. Before i knew it i was out of control,quickly losing the 300 and chasing it. A feeling of pure sickness riddled my head and stomach each time i pressed the spin button,something that i had never felt before. I quickly began losing control and couldn’t even look at the screen.I really felt helpless. A short time later i was down over grand in two spins not including the 300.I felt disgusted.A big part of what i had worked so hard for disappeared before my eyes and I’m not talking about the money i had won. I’m talking about cold hard wages that i had earned to travel with. I don’t earn a lot and this was a big loss for me.  My year had already been pretty shitty for various reasons and the light at the end of the tunnel momentarily flickered out.I really wanted out of Aberdeen at that time. I broke downinto tears and everything just came to a head for me.I was in a sorry state. It wasn’t so much the gambling that did that but just a combination of emotions rising to the top. I knocked a bottle of wine back in one and spoke to gamble aware. The guy on the other end was fucking useless.

“Yeh so like…..close the laptop and put it away”

Cheers Captain Hindsite.Your advice would have been good half an hour ago.

I felt horrible. That really hurt me. It wasn’t so much about the money but the feeling of no control that really shook me up. That night bugged me for a longtime and i still think about it from time to time. Roulette is highly addictive. As is Katy Perry -

As for my other habits i keep them mostly in check. I wash behind my ears on birthdays and only read the sun if there isn’t and Daily Sports left. As for smoking? (cigarettes not weed) Yeh i still do that.Infact more than i used to as my girlfriend does but im a bit of a casual smoker these days. Don’t get the opportunity to watch porn much these days and i’m sure i wont forget that im turning 25 in December. These past five years have flown by.

I am interested to hear your dirty,disgusting bad habits!. A few years down the line from starting this blog, i still have limited knowledge to who actually reads them.I would really like to hear from you.Please drop me a comment.

Crocker.

In a day where i played roulette online again,truthfully i felt i needed to send this out to keep me focused on dealing with the problem at hand and not letting them over run me. This blog has done it for me in the past and continues to this day. Writing about things that bother me and letting you guys know about is a great outlet for me and it  seems to keep my problems in check. Perhaps an entry best saved for personal reading but i just don’t get the same feeling keeping my thoughts locked up as i do sharing them.If you made it down here thank you for reading.

‘La Cucina’

“Guten Morgen…..erm……I was wondering if you require anyone for in the kitchen?”

The answer to this question was met with either confusion,rejection or just plain rudeness. Looking for a job is always a chore no matter which country you are in. I had doubts about hitting the Italian restaurant literally ten steps from my front door. Why? Well its ten steps from my front door and whatever I may end up doing in my own nest (possibly shitting) I didn’t want it on my doorstep. However after no luck in other places I didn’t see the harm in it. At least I wouldn’t have it on my conscience that I didn’t even try there.

I knocked back a coffee,shoved on my nicest clothes and put on my glasses. I headed across and entered with an extremely fake confidence.

“Hallo. I have just moved in across the street from Scotland and wondering if there was any work in the kitchen available?”

I was greeted by two Italian men who didn’t speak English very well.

“What do you do? What do you want?” replied the older of the two men.

“Well I am looking for work….erm…….Kuchen oder……..ermm…..” I said.

“I am the chef! I do the cooking” he replied. He had a half-hearted scan through my CV with a sense of formality.

“Ahhhhhh Pappagallos! That is us. Italian” he said.

“Ermm…..great!…..so i’ve just moved in across the street and……”

I got cut off.

“Ok.OK. Tomorrow you………emm………..Wednesday……..at emmm……halb sieben…..no no no!…..halb sechs…..you come here….and I see you……..I see you and if I like…..you work……but ehhhhhhhhhh here………….very good food.It is mine.I am the chef! You no the chef.You come,I see…..and………ok?”

I bit his hand off.

“Of course! tomorrow half five. Cool. No problem.Your name? Massimo.Great. I will wear?………………White. Ok danke. Tomorrow. See you then!”

As easy as that. After only two minutes of leaving the house I got something. I was happy. I hate looking for work and always feel like im asking people to sell me heroin or donate an organ for my dying child. I just never have an air of confidence and always feel like I sound desperate. I always seem to generate an air of interest though and ten to land on my feet one way or another.

Monday came. I bought a white polo from some expensive store,somehow missing ‘H & M’s’ around the corner. I had already brought over chef trousers from back home and a pair of old trainers.Which by the way never used to be old. My Adidas Forest Hills 72′s are the best pair of trainers I’ve ever bought. Perfect for all occasions and even after their prime are the best pair of flat football shoes I’ve ever had,and are still doing my well three years on.

I was ready to go and left the house early to show I was keen. As I left I bumped into Massimo carrying a box of fruit and veg.

“Ahhhhhh Darren! Good good.Emmm…..tonight is eh…..not so good…….no busy…..tommorow you come?”

Tomorrow was no good and neither was the following days. I had plans to go to Munich. I managed to barter for Monday and we had the same chat as we did before. I was pretty annoyed but I totally understood. The way of the industry is if you aren’t busy,then there isn’t much reason for you to be there. However I would have liked to of at least seen the kitchen and had a chat just to reaffirm my willingness to work.However – that didn’t happen and I went to Munich hoping on Monday being a banker.I left thinking if Wednesday wasn’t busy – then how will Monday be?

As I left the house on the Monday a spot of deja vu came along. I bumped into Massimo again carrying a box of fruit and veg.

“What do you want? You tell me” he said.

I gave him the same spiel as I did the following days. He  ushered me into the kitchen to drop off the box. We then went and bought more as he explained just how good these vegetables was and how good a chef he was.

Massimo lived up to the Italian stereotype but not in a bad way. He was cocky,confident -  full of charisma and hand gestures but very likeable.He was very confusing and contradicting with the information he was giving me. I did my best to follow his instructions but as his English was pretty bad and as was my German, I could see problems ahead. What I did know is that if I worked hard and did what I was told,I would be looked after.

“Soooooooo……….(he usually starts a sentence with this) I am the chef and you no. Ok? And emmm……you must respect me. I no want you to blah blah blah (he used a comical face and acted out me talking too much with his hands). You work…..ok…I will like….you no? Then I no need you. Ok? My food is the best in konstanz.Everything you see (he picks up a tomato) fresh.Everything! Fresh. Ok? Ok. Soooooooooooooo…..”

The first job he got me doing was moulding pizza dough into perfect balls. I didn’t have the  heart to tell him I’d be absolutely useless at this and he would be quicker doing it himself. I gave it my best shot. I thought I was doing pretty well untill I was interrupted by his brother (the other Italian on my first visit). He was a taller man with a constant smile upon his face and again – full of character. I had seen him everyday since being in Konstanz.He is always outside the restaurant smoking and since I came in for the job initially – always gave me a wave or a smile.

“Awwwwwwww no….You no make pizza the Italian way!” he laughed in a friendly manner.

He finished my batch with amazing flare and I appreciated the show and tell, as Massimo just left me to my devices presuming I was Gordon Ramsey.

The day went without a hitch.Most of it was spent doing dishes but Massimo showed me a few things. He didn’t ask me anything. He was more eager to see if I could do the job or not. I could tell he didn’t want to waste his time. I was worried I was slightly over my head but as the day went on I felt comfortable. I liked him.And that helps a lot.

As I was leaving his brother (whose name still escapes me) came up to me with a spring in his step. His English was very limited.

“My frau…ehhh….my wife…..she ehhh…..lost.You know? (I didn’t. I imagined his wife wandering around a dark forest looking for somewhere to make camp) She…..season six? She likes…..She needs lost. You see?Can you?……Do you?…….emm……”

“Ahhhh you would like me to get lost season six for you?” I said.

It was no problem.

“YES! Fablisimo!Thank you so much!” He said as he gave me a firm handshake and a packet of cigarettes for my troubles.

Massimo wanted me back the next day. He wanted another look at me. I didn’t mind the job. I feel ok in the kitchen. However it’s gotten to a stage with me that I know I could do something else and I desperately do. But with the language barrier I know I had to stick to what I know in order to get by. If it meant being a scrubber for another year then so be it. Afterall money is money – and untill I sort my shit out – it will have to do.

The following shift came and went and it and had the same theme as before.

‘You respect me – and I will respect you’. No bother. Even if I wanted to tell him to fuck himself I wouldn’t know the words too in German or Italian. I’ll just do what I’m told then. There was one cracker of a conversation I must share though that still has me chuckling to this day.Massimo had just finished telling me that he liked me and liked my work. I acknowledged the compliment and said thank you. He responded with a tirade of “I don’t give you compliments! I don’t tell you nice things ok? I speak you listen. No chat!”

Ok man. Thanks for kind words.

I’ve now completed my first week of work at ‘La Cucina’. It’s fine.The brother got his series of lost and i got another packet of ciggerettes for my effort. The only problem I have is it will only be part-time in the meantime but Massimo has already said that he will “see what I do” when it comes to extra hours. He already had me helping his wife out cleaning rooms in the hotel (he owns the restaurant and the hotel) By the way that was soul destroying.I make an ugly maid.Nothing like the hot Latinos you see on porn hub.On Saturday night he asked me if I liked it there. If he had asked me if I could put up with it, then I could have given him an honest answer but as it was I said “yes – of course”. He replied with “Well – i like your work. I see a future here for you. You are now apart of the family. Anything you need – we are your family now”

I thought that was very nice of him to say and I very much appreciated it. So as it stands I’ve went from a family run Italian restaurant back home to a family run Italian restaurant in Germany. Not the way to escape. But at least i feel comfortable in my surroundings in a short space of time which counts for a big part in moving to a new Country.

The ball continues to roll – albeit – in the same direction.

Leaving Home Part 3

I looked like a Scottish Stereotype,sitting in my underwear,smoking away in junkie squalor. Fabian smiled never the less and introduced himself. He had a gelled fringe and an orange coloured jumper. After a short introduction Fabian decided to go to the Olympic village. He offered me along. I declined. I’m not sure why. Perhaps I was still feeling overwhelmed. Or perhaps I just felt comfortable and safe in my Marks and Spencer’s briefs.

That night it was time to meet the group. I was up for this. It was like entering the big brother house. I couldn’t wait to meet the characters I’d spend all my time with the next few weeks. I had a new-found confidence running through my blood stream. For some reason – even though I had never met these people or been in this position – felt like we already had one thing in common.

As I got the lift down to the third floor I shared the space with a blonde girl and her boyfriend. There was no introductions nor a hello. Just polite smiles. We stepped out the lift greeted by a pool table,a small corner shop and a bar with comfortable looking sofas and a big tv. There was a long table with chairs and a welcome pack on each space. Some of the group had arrived. I hovered. Everyone did the same.After ten minutes or so most people  had arrived and it was time to sit down and meet the group.

Our tour guide was a young Chinese lady (not that obvious – we had a French Canadian guy later on in the trip) whose name escapes me just now. Lucy perhaps? Answers on a postcard please. She seemed fun (i’e – easily swayed into a drink or two) As it turns out – I was right. LACY! That’s her name. Competition now closed.

First on the agenda was the mandatory introductions followed by a drawn out run down, of the next few weeks -

“My name is Darren and I am from Aberdeen,Scotland. First time away on my own so you all have to be nice to me”.

Great i thought. Could of said something cool.Of course most people we’re in the same boat. I felt like I already knew the answer to the others questions (after all – I did look at the check in sheet) I had already mapped out drunken scenarios and unforgettable experiences. Everyone at the table had a part to play. Some more than others.

Jim had caught my eye. As pale and as ginger as you like from Doncaster. He was also alone. I don’t recall our first conversation but im about 99 percent sure it was about football. The guy knew more about the SPL than I did. We had soon found a lot of common ground (same bull shit girl troubles that plagues us all from time to time)and I remember staying up untill the early hours playing pool most of the night and drinking beer. He had left for the same reasons as me. To get out the UK.

“Why China?” I asked him. He didn’t know really. Just like me.

I had made a friend. Abd after the trip it wasn’t going to be the last i seen of Jim…..

I went to bed with a full day ahead of me in the morning. And I couldn’t wait to get stuck in. I’m not going to lie and say I knew much about the city and what it had to offer. The plan was to find someone who did and latch onto them. As it turned out – I ended up doing that the whole trip. I really should have read some books or at least did some sort of research,but to be honest i liked the fact I was stepping into the unknown. I’m not one for being stuck behind a camera or lost in a guide-book. Losing my wallet is more my style. Passing out in a gutter. Putting my last quid in a bandit. And I’m all the better for it. Now of course times have changed. Without even knowing it  – I became fairly organised. Off to Tiananmen square  – one of China’s most famous landmarks followed by the Forbidden City. It was a grey,dull day but we we’re in good spirits. Before every section of the tour there was a little history lesson by our guide. By the second hour – I had switched off. Terrible I know. It was grand,impressive and the obvious way to start a trip in Beijing. However since the group had only recently met we had one eye on where we would drink at night. Luckily – someone else was already on to that.

That evening we gathered the troops together and headed out. Rumour had it that there was a strip of clubs and bars somewhere. I really couldn’t envision it. I hadn’t seen one bar or even anything that looked like one, on my travels so far. Of course this is China. The party wouldn’t come looking for us. We would have to go to it. What seemed like countless underground stops and miles of walking we arrived. Out of the darkness came this bustling,bright and seedy strip lined with music bars and hookers. I really wasn’t expecting it. I guess I was a little naive aswell as unprepared.Most bars we’re packed and we had a large group. It was going to be a problem getting everyone in,sat and drunk.We had walked the strip twice. I decided to speak up as we already had started to lose people and some we’re becoming impatient (including myself).I suggested we sat in the first bar that could hold us untill we decided on a better idea. Fuck the prices and fuck the venue. We could always move on later.

“Lets just grab a seat eh? Happy folks?”

Deal.

We we’re greeted by a musical performance by what can only be described as the Chinese Steven Segal backed by The Cheeky Girls. He had a terrible backing track and lip synched every word.He was supported by the terrible dancing and backing vocals of cheeky girl 1 and 2. Don’t worry though. He made sure we all knew his guitar was working by crancking a chord out  before songs,then continue to fake that too. In short – it was utterly brilliant. They seemed to love it and we did too. Plus cheeky girl 2 was hot. Winners all round. I have no idea how that night ended. All I remember is we had fun. And for a group of strangers that we’re stuck together for the next month or two – that was important.

Round Up

The decision was relatively easy.Continue to  deal with the ups and mostly downs of working in the family restaurant or pack up what little belongings I had and try my hand in another country?(albeit under different circumstances than the last time).

After a year working in Sunny Brisbane,Australia and having the experience of my life in Asia,coming home to Aberdeen was never going to sit well in my freshly pressed sense of  freedom and adventure. I had changed in many ways. Aberdeen stubbornly stayed the same and arguably was worse than when i had left. Don’t get me wrong.I’m proud to be Aberdonian and as much as it pains me at times,do love my home City. But there was nothing left for me there. I had gotten as much as I could out of it.

I have great friends. My family has its moments just like everyone else but of course – I love them regardless.Since leaving school I had a half-hearted attempt at further education. “Drama you say? Acting and performance? Well that’s a Mickey Mouse course. I’ll stroll through that!” Needless to say – I failed. Not through lack of ability,but through  lack of ambition. It wasn’t on its way anytime soon. At the time it was something else to do before the grind of working full-time came along.

However I have now spent  the past 6 or so years working in Kitchens or on the floor of an ever-increasing list of Restaurants.It’s something I am very comfortable with and for someone with little academic credentials,I hold it close knowing it’s all I really have.Do I plan on doing this my whole life? Well no. However hospitality will always be there and if you are good at it – there will always be work. Finally (it’s been a long time coming)I  have other plans. After an amazing time in Asia I decided that teaching English is actually a viable option for myself. Clichéd I know. However finding something that One – Interests me,and  Two – Sticks – comes along very rarely. And when it does I make an attempt to grab it with two hands.  This time they’re no excuses although always distractions. The difference is, i am now fully aware of my faults but feel one step ahead of them.

So how do I find myself in Konstanz? Well that’s easy. A girl of course!  I had met her in a hostel in Thailand on the way home to Scotland. It was certainly unexpected but not a hinderance in the grand scheme of things. I had no plans as such for my life than. I had pencilled in returning home,working for a few months and getting away again.Anywhere. It didn’t matter. I had caught the travel bug,and getting on the road again would be the only cure. It had soon arisen that the road would end in Germany for the time being. I fell in love. What can I say? And as i was at a loose end it really wasn’t a question of if I would move over  – but when. Seven months later. Here I am. The adventure is certainly not over or on hold. It is just beginning all over again but in a completely different way to what I had envisioned. Lets face it. When does what you picture really come to life? Very rarely. Things change. People change. Times change. Your dreams may not. However whether you achieve these or not all depends on the above. Don’t get me wrong – I do believe that you can achieve most things you put your mind to. But in order to be successful you must attempt to control the ever-changing factors  around you. Otherwise you may find your dreams  lost at sea without a paddle.

So where do I start? Well the next few weeks will be spent getting my feet on the ground,becoming familiar with my surroundings and then the inevitable job hunt. As I don’t speak the language i will be applying for kitchen jobs. As I become more confident,meet some people and become a part of the scenery I will move forward from there. Im happy to feel this one out. Lets see where the tide takes me.