Fighting demons in Berlin

No matter how much the solo traveller relishes his or her independence, there is always that day.  Weeks can go by without its appearance, and at other times several hit in a row.  It can be triggered by a quiet, unfriendly hostel, or a crowded rowdy one.  Sometimes, it occurs for no discernible reason at all.  But regardless, the lonely days exist.

Mine started from a lovely, but dead-quiet hostel.  Half-empty room, no common area, no one who speaks English.  Or French.  Add a long-overdue phone call home, and a call to the Rockies which caught the person I wanted to speak with at the end of an exhausting and frustrating day.  I got on the U-Bahn and was serenaded by a busker singing an acoustic version of Louis Prima's "Just a Gigolo", with the lines "I'm so sad and lonely" repeated.  And as these things happen, this was the day where everywhere I looked, I was surrounded by happy together couples.  In fact, I got crammed into a corner of the S-Bahn train by a couple who spent the 10 minute ride murmuring sweet nothings into each others' ears and kissing every 2 seconds - about 20 cm away from my face.  Ugh.

The day did improve substantially: a fantastic walking tour through central Berlin and a new Australian buddy to while away the afternoon with, walking through the Turkish market and the East Side Gallery.  But inevitably, the time comes to part.  And oftentimes the people you chat with for a day are not destined to be long-term friends and so you exchange nothing but handshakes and well-wishes.  At the end of the day, it's still just you, walking back to your quiet hostel at sunset amid the throngs of laughing people, eating your doner kebab.