One Night in Northern Germany

“How long are you staying in Winsen?” Helga asked.

“Just for the night,” said Scott. “I’m passing through Northern Germany over the next week or so, and then Denmark, Sweden, Norway.”

“At this time of year? It’s so cold.”

“Travelling is mostly hotels and trains. When I sightsee, I just put on a jacket and I’m good to go.”

Helga guffawed and smacked a hand on the bar counter. “All alone you do this? You have not run in to any nice girls to travel with?”

Scott snickered and sipped his lager. “I did meet one in Brunswick.”

Helga leaned in, oohing. “Last night?”

“At a lokal. We were the only tourists there, so we talked for a while. She was actually my type: blonde hair, looked kind of German. But something about her threw me off. She seemed kind of full of herself. I was worried she was doing the same trip as me – the Dietrich Itinerary – so I told her I was heading home the next night, just in case. But luckily, she was heading home too, except the day after me.”

Helga’s line of questions came to an end. She gave the counter another light smack and ambled to the other side of the bar.

Scott stretched and leaned over to rub his sore shins and massage his calves. He had gotten off the train from Brunswick three stops early at Dahlenburg and walked the rest of the way. The beauty of the German countryside, with its frost capped rolling hills, demanded a closer look. Although the late November chill would have kept most people glued to their train seat, Scott braved the elements. Images of Survivorman floated through his head.

After an eight hour walk, Scott arrived in Winsen just before sundown. The town was an oasis. Gas-powered streetlamps lined the cobblestone roads, and string lights hung from the awnings of earth-toned storefronts and apartment buildings. A horse-drawn carriage passed by as Scott entered the town like in some old Christmas fairy tale.

He had been lounging in the pub for close to an hour, at first scrolling through his phone over beef stew and a locally brewed amber lager, but eventually the bartender took an interest in his travels, and he explained the minute details of his past three weeks to his audience member. Only a few townies populated the dim-lit bar. For once there were no other tourists around.

His legs now relaxed, Scott turned his attention to the artwork and various trinkets scattered throughout the pub. A portrait hung from the wood panelled walls, positioned between two small gas lanterns. The style was familiar to him, and the piece may have been painted by an artist whose work he had encountered on his travels. But the name escaped him. It was on the tip of his tongue. He thought hard.

The front door opened, and Scott lowered his gaze to a giant backpack strapped to a blond traveller whose face was the last one he wanted to see.

He turned from the door and fixed his eyes on his lager. Helga greeted the patron in her booming voice. Scott’s cheeks flushed and droplets of sweat formed on his lower back. The cozy pub turned oven-like.

Helga passed by him and exchanged pleasantries with the young woman, her voice unmistakable, and they moved to the corner of the bar. Scott’s backpack sat against a wall near the front entrance. He could grab it and slip out unnoticed then wait in town for a few days before continuing his journey. It would delay him, but if the girl was following the same itinerary, as seemed to be the case, she would at least have a head start and they wouldn’t run into each other again. And he would still be home by Christmas.

Helga and the young lady continued speaking. Scott rolled down his sleeves, shifted in his stool, and put a foot on the ground. He pushed himself up, the voice in his head telling him to walk straight to the door, but instead he turned his head towards the two women. Helga, holding a menu in her hand, had started walking from the table, and as she passed, Scott found himself looking directly at the other traveller, and she at him.

He darted his eyes towards his backpack for a moment before resigning himself. He exhaled and slunk to the corner booth.

“Emma.” He said in a tone somewhere between enthusiasm and dormancy.

She gave him a faint smile and stood from her seat. They both extended stiff arms and hugged like plastic toys.

“What are you doing here?” Emma asked.

“Look at you. This is crazy.” Scott said.

“I didn’t expect to run into you. I thought you were going home. This doesn’t seem like Toronto to me.”

Scott tittered. Emma sat back in her seat, and he sat opposite her.

“Yeah, I decided to stay.” He stammered. “Stay on the trip I mean.”

“The trip?”

“No, I mean,” Scott continued, his shoulders sunk forward and his hands fidgeting under the table. “I found out about the Dietrich Itinerary online and I was undecided, actually. I didn’t want to tell you because I wasn’t sure if I would be going home or not.”

His cheeks burned red. But then a thought came, and he could breathe. “Wait, why are you here?”

Emma was unmoved. Her clasped hands and elbows rested on the table. Only her hazel eyes shifted at the question.

“I’m going to be honest, ok? I didn’t want you to know where I was going.”

“What do you mean?” Scott sat up straight.

“I just don’t like to tell people where I’m going. When you travel alone as a woman, you want to keep a low profile.”

“Well yeah, but we’re both travelling alone. I don’t get it. I already told you I was going home the next day.”

“Yeah but, evidently for good reason, I didn’t believe you.”

“Well, I just told you why.”

Emma raised her eyebrows.

“Oh you don’t believe me. Ok great. So now, running into each other here, I guess I look like a creep. That’s great.”

Helga appeared from behind Scott and set a brown lager on the table in front of Emma. “A long way from Brunswick, you two.” She said before walking away.

“Ok fine,” Scott said. “If we’re being brutally honest, then yeah I was lying. But for literally the opposite reason. I was worried that you were also doing the Dietrich Itinerary, and evidently, I was right too.”

“Why would you be worried?”

“Because, to be completely honest, I didn’t want to travel with you. I’m, like, a solo traveler. I didn’t want to…”

“What?” Emma asked, a smile forming. “You didn’t want me to slow you down?”

“Yeah, exactly. And also I thought you were kind of, like, haughty.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Like… here’s an example. I asked if you had seen the St Blasii Cathedral and you laughed. Why would that be a silly thing to visit?”

“Because these places all have cathedrals. Do you need to see all of them?”

“As many as I can, yeah.”

“Ok,” she paused. “Although I’m slightly offended, I actually think you’re right. It seems like you’re travelling to check off a list of things to do. I’m a bit more carefree about it. So I agree, we shouldn’t travel together. And no, I’m actually not doing the Dietrich Itinerary. I’m just going to towns my friends told me about, and we happened to overlap in Brunswick. Which is why it’s the only place we met. I told you the towns I had visited – why did you think I would start the itinerary halfway through?”

“I’m sorry I offended you. But you made me out to be a stalker.”

“Well, what am I supposed to think? How am I supposed to know you’re even telling the truth now?”

Scott leaned in. “Is it impossible to think someone might just not like you that much? It’s easier to just call me a liar again. How can I prove it? Do you need a list of reasons? Ok here’s a list just off the top of my head: you didn’t let me buy you a beer last night—”

“Ok, well I can…”

“—Let me finish. We covered the cathedral thing. Also, let’s not forget about the statue. You said you would have skipped the Bugplatz. How crazy is that. It’s a landmark!”

Emma covered her mouth with both hands to stifle her laughter.

“No, come on, it is. And I don’t know, you were just kind of mean in general. Like right now why are you laughing?”

Emma looked at Scott through her fingers, breathing between bursts of laughter.

Scott shuffled in his seat and turned his head. Helga was leaning over the bar counter smiling at the tourists, as were two old men at a table in the center of the pub, and the rest of the crowd who was within ear shot.

Scott turned back to Emma whose face was beet red. “What the hell is so funny?” He asked.

Emma caught her breath and quoted “’It’s a landmark!’” She burst out laughing and buried her face into her forearm.

Scott shifted to the edge of the booth and paused. “Wherever you’re going next, you won’t see me there for sure. I’m going to stay in town for two days, give you a head start and hopefully we won’t run into each other again.”

He shot up and rushed to the front entrance where he threw on his puffy jacket and strapped on his backpack. Then he dashed out of the pub.

Emma wiped her tears and took several deep breaths. She put on her coat and called to Helga. “I’ll be right back.” Helga cackled and raised a cup.

Emma stepped out into the late November night and zipped her jacket up to her chin. Scott had marched several feet down the road. She jogged over the cobblestone road towards him. “Hold on!” she said.

Scott halted and turned around. He looked down with furrowed brows.

Emma came to a stop, exhaling clouds of steam. “You walk fast.”

He kept his eyes to the ground. “You didn’t have to chase after me. We’re good, I’m sorry. I can’t believe I just dramatically stormed out of that place.”

“Yeah. You did. But it’s ok. It feels nice to storm out of a place every once in a while.”

“Why did you run out here? It’s freezing.”

“I guess I believe you now and I wanted to say I’m sorry I called you a creep.”

“You didn’t call me a creep.”

“I implied it. But clearly you’re not a creep, you’re just very passionate about solo travel I guess. So I misjudged. You: not a creep. Me: haughty. It’s settled.”

“No, I’m sorry. I don’t even know why I said that. You’re not haughty.”

“It’s fine. Not everybody has to like everybody. Whatever I put out, you weren’t buying. That’s totally cool.”

“Now I feel like a jerk.”

A streetlamp buzzed behind Emma, and beyond all the small buildings the sky was dotted with shimmering stars.

Scott shifted his gaze to Emma “Can I make it up to you? Can I buy you a beer? Or you can buy yourself a beer if that’s what you prefer. Do you want to just have a beer together?”

Emma laughed. “Ok, how about this. We go inside and I let you buy me a beer. And I will be one hundred percent honest with you about where I’m going next.”

“Woah, my creep days really are over.”

“Yes, your creep days have passed. So, I’ll tell you where I’m going next. And if it’s the same place as your itinerary thing, then we can go together. And I promise to go see whatever cathedral is in that town. Fair?”

“Yeah, that works. Let’s do it.” Scott raised a finger. “Actually, this next town has an absolute must-see landmark.”

The two laughing travelers walked together in the cold night.