When I was travelling home after work last week, I had a very interesting, let’s say adventure. I was going by train from Zwickau via Glauchau and Lehndorf to Jena and when I changed the trains in Glauchau, a greek guy named Costas approached me. He said, he accidentally missed his train and he now had to take this small regional slow-ride and he didn’t know where to transfer.
Actually, Lehdorf is not the most attractive place to let foreign travellers cope with the delicate subject of getting on the next train. It looks more or less like a fallow, where accidentally someone installed a train station aeons ago. Since then, all the DB-customers may leave their train, walk over the muddy field to the connecting ride and wonder whose idea it was to still use this place.
Anyway, Costas and I were chit-chatting about the ongoing matters, interesting stuff, eventually on the greek crisis, Angela Merkel and all the neo-Nazi ideas going round as well in Greece as in Germany. As a matter of fact, Zwickau and Jena are connected by the recent NSU-affair, three people, charged with 10 murders, possibly supported by german governmental institutions. As we were inside this conversation, a look out of the window and on my watch suggested that the turnip field, where we would need to get off the train was now a long way behind us. Costas immediately felt in twist of fate, since he already missed his train on that day. For our satisfaction, the friendly conductor informed us of the possibility of going back directly from the next station and then taking the train from Gößnitz towards Jena.
So we did and we felt quite lightened, especially inside the train back to Gößnitz, when I realized that I forgot my bike on the last train. I even locked it, so no one could ever take it away. This sense for security made it a little complicated in this very moment, since the friendly conductor of the last train could have sent the bike back with another train, so that Costas and I could have gotten to it at the station in Gößnitz. But in this case, I had to get back to Neukieritz, were the train we were leaving half an hour ago was waiting for its next passage to Glauchau. Costas was so friendly to accompany me. A nice move because it made the oddyssey a little more greek and therefore enjoyable.
Finally we got the bike and after another hour or so on the station in Neukieritz, we took the train to Gößnitz and finally transfered to Jena, where we arrived after 5 hours of enjoying Thuringia and Westsaxony in utter darkness.
Costas asked me the following Question: “Why do we know that Homers Odyssey is just a fictional story?” “I don’t know” I replied. “When Odysseus came home after 30 years, the only one who recognized him was his dog.”
I’m glad it only took us about 5 hours, because if I had a dog, he would certainly still be alive to recognize me…