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Published: February 24th 2011
Friday was the day I would set off on an intrepid journey to the outskirts of Germany and Sittard. My cousin Daniel had invited me for a night out on the cobblestoned alleyways of a town called Heerlen. After being picked up in Sittard by Daniel the evening started with a visit to my aunt and uncle (Geraldine and Rene) in Hillensberg. Daniel had a friend Maurice meet us there who needed Daniel’s expert hands to cure a calf-injury. I proceeded straight to the kitchen to raid the wondrous white cupboard. The fridge illuminated her warm comforting glow upon my smiling face as I proceeded to fit as many condiments and ingestible goods onto a sandwich . This covert mission was executed perfectly and as Geraldine and Rene returned home to see Daniel rubbing another man with oil and me hiding in a corner eating furiously. I was definitely the lesser of the two evils. After family updates were shared Daniel and I took off (we even managed to grab a jar of mixed nuts). I could see it was going to get crazy.
Back at Daniel’s bachelor pad we munched on pizza and I got a crash-course in Fifa11 so that I wouldn’t get caught out later with all the fines for various plays in the game (just about every move you make). Daniel’s friends arrived and we got to some serious playing. The South African lived up to Tshabalala and Pienaar’s standards; even winning a few games. On the other hand Daniel performed like Boulahrouz and took the brunt of the various lumo-coloured concoctions in front of me.
A German taxi was called to lift us to Heerlen. Amongst the laughing, jeering and general confusion of a few drunk Dutch men trying to communicate in German we managed to make our way to Heerlen. I think the taxi driver was relieved to be rid of the excited 30-year-old men shouting and, from what I could understand, cussing at each other over fouls in Fifa11 earlier. For some reason as we wandered to the club I tried to open a Ford Ka’s door, maybe out of habit, and it actually opened. Daniel’s friends fled the scene of the crime as Daniel and I took photos in the Ka and left it with all the lights on, even the hazards. I got a couple comments later along the lines of, “this isn’t South Africa” and “bloody tourist” interspersed with laughs and mutterings of, “family”.
The night was fun; gave the beer-cash to one friend and he just fetched drinks all night which was not a bad deal. I set about decimating any possibility of a social status in Heerlen; abusing the fact that absolutely nobody knew me except for a few crazy dudes at the other bar. I danced in true South African style – think black mamma just hears her son is getting married…yoh yoh yoh!
The club eventually put the house lights on and we followed our noses to a nearby Shoarma tent. We managed to convey to the Turkish owner we were hungry and sat down to receive our mid-morning snack. We proceeded to devour what was both on and all that was quickly being strewn off the plates in front of us. Daniel thought sauce on his hand would taste better than on his bread as I munched happily in a corner for the second time that day. The taxi back was even more fun than the ride in and we even had the same driver. He was very understanding, or just desperately in need of a paycheque. Upon returning to Daniel’s abode I made my way swiftly to bed. The sounds of the house shaking rattled me to sleep as some friends turned on the TV to watch a trance DVD.
Saturday and Sunday (19&20/02/2011)
We woke up pretty late on Saturday and Daniel took me to an outdoor warehouse where we drooled over the snowboards and Jacuzzis. In the afternoon we watched the Netherland’s World Cup 2010 campaign which Daniel had on dvd. Viewing Bronckhorst’s goal again and again never got old. That evening the adventures were re-told to G&R over supper. Saturday night was spent on the couch talking kak and playing games. Sunday followed suit with Saturday and I took the midday train back home. I went and played a bit of football in the afternoon and had an early night!
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