Europe No Euros

11 of October - Hooker chess

TrImmmm..

TrIIMmmmm..

TRIMMMMMM!!

Uaargh!Ha!

    Check the cell clo'ckove -  6:30 in the morning.With all the 4 angled windows, going down the road of  grey lightness to the attic pavement and reflecting above.I was on 2 matresses on the floor, the blanket clover all on the floor.Go downstairs to the kitchen of the famous savory unpredictable flummeries and delicious deserts.Now surprinsingly clean and empty of delightful ,now half lighted from the moitey mid morning rise.-It looks like Im the first one to arrive!take some bread from the dirty clothing drawir for long 

baguetes, put the first of the last nutella still left on the opened white bread.

     

   Louise comes after 10 minutes, childlichly funny as ever.She drove me till the cemetery and I

 got out, saing goodbye to her and retributing goodluck for her studies in Monreal.

     Walked a quarter km to the sweet hitchhiking spot and studied it to spot some carton.

Went to the other side of the road, were there was a carton box next to the trashbin of a car 

seller park.With my black penkife i cut one wall of the box, writting "Suisse" on it with cute 

letters.There was still a space bellow the letters, so I drawed a slice of cheese and 

mountains.I was really optimistic, so I turned on the celephone radio on the K6FM, and with

 some cool french agitated music I Crossed the road and went thumbing with it.I laughed and

 smilled to everyone, but At 7:45 It was harsh too see that that smile wouldnt come back, the

 majority of times.Some didnt even look at me, with a upsidown smile and a depressing look

 on their eyes, to fulfill another morning routine to do another boring 9 to 5 job,that they didnt

 dreamed about when they were kids.

      At 9 I had of it, and did a break eating a slice of brioche

 Louise had given me this morning, put the backpack on and went further down the road, only

 to find that there is no better spot, when the roads all come together I couldnt manage to 

thumb there, because it was a fast beggining of the highway.As I go back again to the service

 station at the outline of the city, passed over the road steel protection and I smell 

something.Shit.I stepped onto a dog trap, and my left shoe scrapped on my lower right pant.

Cursing all the dogs and all the jerk dog owners in the world.I blowed out my nose and my

 pants and my shoe,wich had a thick and sticky brown snot, taking the shitted handkerchief for

 a walk of 200meters,.It danced and giggled to the flavor of the wind, and I just wanted to throw him out in the neares garbage station.

    When I did it, I found out that I still smelled like shit, there was still some entrenched shit in my pants that didn't want to leave for good.So I drew my swett spray out hand sprayed the shitted area in my pants and shoe with  white snow like fumes.MMMhh, know I should smell OK, i though.And as if the driver could smell my newly scent of fresh mountain luck,I got a ride within 2 minutes to Dole, a small town 20kms of Dijon, In a white van with open box.The midle aged grey hair man was once a professional german soccer player, and he showed me the towns i had to jump in in order to get to Bern, Suisse.

     There my luck didnt worsen and after sticking the thumb out for 5 minutes a midle aged tided women gave me a ride to her home town, bencanson.Although she had glasses in her face she couldnt hide her expression of shitty smell detected' , and I realized I was still smelling like a shit hole, and opened my window.But even if i smelled like it, she was kind and gave me her card. said that if I ever visited Bencanson to give her a call, that she would show me arround the city.She had hitchhicken when she was young, and sshe dropped me at the place where she had done it, a cool road by the river.

    As I was writting "Portalier" in the other back of the carton, I saw a guy thumbing just 10meters in front of me.Another fellow hitchhiker!I went to talk with him, and I simpathised right away with my french homonym friend, Joan, wich was going to the same place as I, his hometown."Voy a lavar la ropa sucia a casa de mis padres!"He said with a grin, after knowing I was portuguese.I asked him if it was a problem if I could go with him."no, qureo que no ha problema".And after 3 minutes a black cougar car stopped in and I got inside with Joan, me cosily thight in the back with the 2 backpacks besidesme.and with a cheesy music in the cougar car of the young metalworker, we went at high speed to portalier, 15km of the Swiss border.

     When I got there it was really sunny day, and taking off the overlayers of clothe while Joan told me the best place to hitchhike in town.So with my portuguese t-shirt, I hitchhiked a while, only then realising that I had a post office right in front of me, where I could send my letter to the portuguese court.I asked there if I could send it to portugal with the french chiken postal, which she replied sayng that I had to pay an extra 17 cents to the correct one, which the old woman promply gave to me some the change she was still putting it in her old woman wallet,but a fancy french one.I thanked her for the kindness and went to the zebra crossing testing my luck, when a french teenager talked to me in french, and I understood that the best spot to go to was in front of the service station, a bit further down the road to the right.He was going that way, and I managed to talk with him in french, about his studies, my trip, the music he likes.I thought he was my age, and I got perplexed when he said he was 14."Putan!tu es grand pour ton âge!"I said to him.He smilled at me, and after he told me he was in a professional school and he workerd as an aprentice butler.And actually he had the looks of it, And I couldn't stop imagining him slicing and choping the meat 20 years from now, with the fat in his harm shaking everytime he'd hit the meat,cutting fatless pieaces of meat to the grandma next door.As he was going to shcool, I waved at him and continued to the service station.

  That area already had some swiss air and look to it.It was fukin hot for that region, E eu divertia-me a ver a cara que alguns condutores fayiam.Fodasse, se algumas pessoas vissem a cara que eles fazem quando veem um gajo a pedir boleia,ou pelo menos quando estam a conduzir, faziam uma plastica completa a cara por inteiro:uns olham-me de pescoco torcido, dobrado para me ver melhor por baixo do retrovisor e com cara de violador esbugalhado, outros viram o sorriso ao contrario, desnivelando aas sobrancelhas e franyindo o queicho, outras olham para como se fossem princesas assustadas bechigosas e ainda outros, gordos de duplo queicho, olham para mim com cara de cagalham encravado, com um olho semi aberto e um ar desalmado.I had no luck there.The 14 kid came and said today he had a brake in  school, and he went away for good.After a while I got a ride from a always smiling bearded man, that was going close to the border.I was starting to see  the beauty of the swiis landscape, com as suas escarpes e vales, montes com castelos antigod e arvores coniferas, algumas ja com as folhas aloiradas para cumprimentar o outono.Ele deixoume num parque perto da fronteira, e la eu fiz quatro cortes no meu cartam e prendio a parte de tras da mala, e quando pus a mala para comecar a descer o monte ate a fronteira um carro parou logo em meu auxilio.Eram um casal de velhos suicos calados e simpaticos, que me deram entrada naquele pais maravilhoso(sem controlo de fronteira quando passamos), sem lixo e com paisagens saidas das maquetes dos comboios em miniatura.

     Apos uma curta viagem Cheguei a Berne-magnifica capital de 200 mil habitantes, com o rio a contornar o centro da cidade, pessoas de bicicleta e telados engracados, acabei por chegar a estacao central de berne, onde pedi para ser deixado.Quando estava a sair do carro e a despedir-me dos cotas, O velho disse:"good luck for your travels and always keep safe"ele disse numa voz calma idosa.E depois oulhou-me de alto abaixo e acrescentou"and always keep clean if you have the possibility".Porra, com aquele comentario aprecebi-be que ainda cheirava a merda e eles tinham vindo a comer todo aquele cheiro, de janelas fechadas desde a fronteira.O seentido de culpa logo passou, e com um "Que sa foda" vi que tinha chegado ao mesmo destino, e depois de ndar um pouco pela estacao fiquei mesmo entusiasmado por estar na suica, agora ja parecia mesmo que estava a respirar o ar da Europa!

    Preparava-me para telefonar aos meus hosts, quando vi que nao tinha pausinhos na pilha de bateria do telemovel.Fodasee.Perguntei a um rapaz na rua e ao  gajo das farturas la do sitio que so falavam em alemao.Porra tou fudido.Fui ate a uma loja e finalmente encontrei uma pessoa que sabia falar "a litle bit of english".Suspirando, perguntei onde e que podia arranjar algum sitio com uma tomada para carregar o meu telemovel, e ela respondeu que la em baixo, na Swisscom, podia.Entao desci as escadas e fiquei um bocado a nora, naquele mar de gente apressado e aqueleas lojoas de nome esquisito nao detectei a Swisscom.

         "excuse me?"Uma rapariga suica bonita virou-se para mim.Hora esta, era a mesma que estava a tras de mim na loja."do you know where swisscom is?"ela disse."no,hehe.Can you help me finding it?""sure!"ela disse piscando os olhos.Andamos uns vinte metros ate a loja, onde ela falou a rapariga do balcao em alemao e depois eu deilhe o meu carregador e o meu telemovel e o meu nome, e ella disse que dentro de 1, 2 horas passava la para busca-lo.Great!Falei um bocado com ela e conteilhe que tinha chegado mesmo agora.Ela era mesmo nice.Com cabelo e olhos nem ruivos, nem castanhos, tipicamente suicos , carinha de boneca,era uma boa reccepcao à cidade de Berne.contei-lhe um pouco sobre a viagem que estava a fazer e ela pareceu muinto interessada, e perguntou se eu nao queria esperar em casa dela ate o telemovel estar carregado.Com certeza!.Estavamos a passar a alta ponte sobre o pequeno rio e ela disse:"Diss hotel is where where i work.I'm 18 so they dont pay me much, because i'm still learning.Its great, because I live very near, in a house with my boyfriend, just some 500 meters from where I work!Istn that great?" Acenei com a cabeca.Fodasse, ela tem namorado,pensei.Hehe, tambem nao querias a sorte grande , nao?mas nao ha problema, e so a primeira hora aqui na suissa e as coisas ja comecam a correm bem....

        Falei mais um pouco com ela e vi que ela tambem fumava das suas,e contou-me uma cena muinto fixe sobre a suica:na suica,os moradores de cada bairro, podem votar sobre especificos lugares como ruas ou parques no seu bairro para nesses lugares ser permitido fumar erva.Se a maioria ganhar, entao esse parque torna-se um parque "verde".Chegamos a casa dela e la estava o namorado dela, que nao falava muinto de ingles mas era bacano curtia jogar computador, jogos bacanod como call of duty ou gta4, com legendas em alemao.Ela perguntou se eu queria agua e eu disse-lhe que sim, e ela pos-se em biquinhos dos pes para buscar um copo de plastico que estava la em cima do armario, e eu vi que ela tinha um rabo mesmo jeitoso e a medida.Fodasse, que pena ela ter namorado, pensei.Ela oferceume bolachas com chocolate ,e, bebendo a agua e bebendo as bolachas da gula, passei os meus pensamentos para o ecran.onde o seu namorado jogava um jogo de terror interessante.Depois os dois jogaram Gta4, onde ele disse"She drives the car like a bitch!".Hehe, e era verdade, se aquela miuda tirasse a carta de conducao limpava o sebo a 5 gajos na primeira rua que ela pussesse a segunda.Ela conto-me que eles alugavam aquela casa num bairro para pessoas que teem pouco dinheiro financiado pelogoverno, e achei muinto bom dois jovens adultos poderem ja ser independentes com pouco dinheiro que ganham.Troquei o contacto com ela e fomos todos para a estacao, porque o namorado dela queria comprar roupa nova.Fomos buscar o telemovel e despedime deles.

     Paro um pouco para respirar o ar fresco.HEHE estou no meio da europa!Mando Sms a algumas pessoas que se disponibilizaram para eu ficar em casa deles, e dpois de meia hora so a Albertine respondeu, a dizer que estava em geneva mas que, em ultima das hipteses, os seus pais podiam receberme.Eu disse que ela era a unica que me tinha respondido.Estava no primeiro andar da estacao, numa especie de varanda grande,sozinho, a olhar para as pessoas atarefadas, e fazendo uma careta ou outra especial cada vez que uma reparava em mim!sinto um tremido no tel e ela respondeu, disendo que ia avisar os pais.depois mandou-me outra mensagem a dizer que era okay.

     Eu vi o papel que tinha escrito em Franca,com os contactos e moradas suicas, e vi que a morada da Albertine Schellenberg estava um pouco confusa, e dedusi que era em Shlirën.fui a estacao de turismo e pedi um mapa, e shliren nao se encontrava nele.Perguntei a mulher e ela disse que era na direccao sudoeste da cidade, e tinha de passar por Köniz primeiro.Como so ouvi estes nomes, eles soaram-me estranho ao ouvido, e tive de repeti-los varias vezes para ficar com eles na cabeca.Tentei ver onde era a casa de banho, e vi uma seta para "Mcclean", com WC escrito aseguir.Wtf?pensei.Segui a seta e nao queria acreditar.A casa de banho tinha virado privada,da companhia da Mcdonalds, e tinha de pagar 1 franc ( uns 70 centimos) numa maquina electronica para a usar.O que?eu pensei.Porra, devia mase mijar na maquina e fuder o circuito a esta merda, e deichar um presentinho a porta para eles aprenderem a nao porem portagens em tudo.Conversei com umas miudas sorridentes e perguntei onde havia um sitio para mijar (piss) enquanto fazia gestos e o som de gargolejar, para elas perceberem melhor.Elas riram-se e apontaram para uma barraca moderna vermelha, do tamanho de um contentor, mesmo ao lado da estacao.Fui la, tranquei a porta e mijei na sanita de aluminio, e fiquei muinto impressionado que a mesma bacia para defecar era a mesma para lavar as maos, a agua asim reutilisada para lavar a pia,uma ideia inteligente que nao me tinha atravessado ainda a minha cabeca.Saindo da casa de banho um pouco mais iluminado,Segui com a mala as costas na direccao sudoeste,perguntando sempre as pessoas por shlirin, ou shiren.Berne era uma cidade europeia muinto fixe, com o centro historico engracado, com os seus mercados cheios de flores e queijos e presuntos e barracas de chines com massas quentes saborosas.Tabuleiros de xadrez gigantes pintados nas ruas das cidades, com pecas a condizer para as pessoas jogarem,parques limpos e um rio pequeno mas com caracter que se curva perante o centro da cidade, onde no verao os locais e os turistas mergulham e deixam-se levar pela corrente, ate se cansarem da pasmaceira e subirem a ponte baixa para saltarem outra vez

    It was almost dark and I only had left the center, and I passed under a autobridge near the river 

and I heard a whistle.I look around and saw, leaning on the window, in a red lighten room, an appealing black women.When she saw me, she energetically shaked her boobs and called me over, and I started laughing until I couldnt on the randomness and awkwardness of the situasion.

   

  I wasnt laughing now.my body was screaming inside,I was preety tired from the back from carrying the backpack for 2 kilometers now. asked and asked and asked the swiss people, and they would guide me with their directions, and I finally ended up in Köniz, where I saw that schliren was a neighbourhood at the top of a big hill in front of köniz.I walked up the hill, all my back muscles sayng:Rest!stop this madness!But I would´nt rest until I got to my final destination.When I finaly climbed up the cold hill, it was 9 pm, no one in the street, and me desesperate because I didnt fnd any sign sayng schliren.I was all wet and I was tryig asking the cars entering the roundabout, but they didnt even bothered to open their window.Fuck!

 Finally at the end of some escrutiating 15 minutes, I saw a boy with a pretty girl´s face, and asked him where schilen was"We are in schilren"he said.Fiew, I exaled in relief.I was here.I asked the guy If he knew where his street was, while I searched for the name of the street in the papper in my pocket.The papper wasnt there, so I said to the doll boy to wait a minutewhile I was searching in the other pockets.I searched better on the right pocket.It wasnt there.I throwed the stuff on the ground.On the pocket on the left of the pants it wasnt too.I throwed all the stuff there to the ground.On the back pockets I only found rubish paper and a clip.To the ground again.I searched the pants, the sockets, the jacket, the other jacket,the upper pockets and cracks and after 5 minutes I hadnt found the papper, the guy still waiting and a big pile of papper ad shit on the floor.I searched in the interior pocket of the jacket, in the pocket inside that pocket and FINALLy I found that shitty papper with the adress.


     "*sight*, do you know this street?Hasssenstrass?(why the fuck all the "s"´s)"I said."wait a minute" he told me, while he drew his new age phone from his pocket, accesing the wireless network and going to online maps, where he put the adress and said:"this adress is in Köniz".


       ...no way....NO FUCKING WAY!! "wait.I thought it was in Schliren!let me see!"I said and looked at his phone.He was right.Shit.I had walked all the way to the end of Köniz and hiked 1km up to Schiren only to find out that the adress was at the beggining of Köniz!I laughed at the situation and at myself.I sickly thanked him, grabbed all the crap from the ground, put the backpack and like a defeated mule I went down the big fucking hill to köniz again.Well, descending all the holy saints help, that´s what my grandmother says.And it was kind of easier then hiking up.When I arrived at Köniz I still had to walk 2 kilometers to the house.I still didnt know the exact location, so I did an extra kilometer going further then going back again to the right bus stop, where there I read the nice coordinates made by albertine:

  "(..)

;)wen your at

 te busstop, cross te

 rod,tak te rod lef 

from te hairdressr,

n ten turn right

nex to te divin

shop, nex lef"

  Turning left at the diving shop, I read the name on the board, joyfuly out loud "Buschweg! BUSCHWEG CARALHO!!HEhehehe!!"a dog walking his man strangely looked at me.I continue to the left to the poor lighten rich street.I walk some bit and after seeing the number 19, I realised I had walked a litle much and went back a few steps to the famous Buschweg 17.Buschweg 17 was a nice big house with a nice garden.Finally, the door at the end of the tunel!!I ring the door and a tall man with  ponytail welcomes me:"please, come in!"he said.He was the father of albertine, and he guided me to the secon floor of the house were I would sleep in abertine´s older sister´s room.He left me alone, sayng I could do whatever I wanted now, and he came back with an orange juice box and a glass, sayng I should probabily be thirsty from all the walk I had made.I thanked him and when he was gone, I drank the juice like I had a timed period to do it.When I dropped the backpack I realised and started to feel the bruises from me epicly stupid journey.I rotated my shoulders for a bit and when I was better I went for a shower.After I finished it and dressed myself, I went downstairs to talk with her parents, but they were going to bed and told me goodnight, so I went upsters and contemplated the foto´s on the wall abertine´s sister had taken.