Apollo Sports Club (Berlin)

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After months and months I'm back in the gym! Partly due to (lack of)money and partly due to my rare immobility I was not in a position to pony up for any gym fees.

No More. Now I have a short-term membership in this rather posh gym in Schoeneberg  heroically named Apollo Sports Club. I found it via the International Gym locator (see side panel). It's not at all the sort of place I would seek out. I prefer bare bones, sweaty hardcore weightrooms that are cheap, full of free weights and men who wear uncoordinated sweats versus matching designer stuff -- and cologne. Ugh! Well...the sports club is on the fancy side and very, very un-hardcore BUT, surprisingly, it is also one of the few gyms in my price range and walking distance from my apartment. Plus I dig saunas (there is not one, but four!), low decimal music and free dance classes so joining Apollo Sports Club was a no-brainer.

Unisex sauna will take getting used to.
Some things are just too German for my tastes.
(If only everyone who disrobed were as young and beautiful...)

And something I've never seen in any gym are walls decorated with paintings! Physique paintings and photography adorn the three-story facility from top to bottom. Now that's class. Between the free-weights, sauna(s) and Zumba class I've a new home away from home.
Time to pump!!   

website  

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RULES OF TRAVEL

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NEW RULE:

Before checking into any hostel be sure to inquire about the Internet access.

• Are there terminals and/or wi-fi?
• Is the Internet access free of charge?
• Is it on a timer system? (y'know, where the connection taps out after, say, an hour and you have to resign in or get a new code...it's very annoying)
• How much is it to print?

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Worthless college education

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I went to college and all I got was this fancy sheepskin diploma!

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Travel: According to Ernest Hemingway

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Going my way?

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I've only tried it once before; and that was out of sheer desperation. In Mexico City, of all places! I gave it another shot the other day because, after all, I'm in Europe and the European take on it is very much different than in America. It's an accepted and commonplace practice. So when in Europe...hitch-hike.

If skuzzy-looking cannabis activists can get picked up, then surely I can

This time it wasn't desperation as much as economic experimentation: Try hitch-hiking, I convinced myself. Everyone else does and gets on just fine. I read about it on couchsurfing.com...I've met guys and girls who swear by it...so I finally said, Why not? Why exhaust my little funds paying for bus and train tickets and organized carpooling when I could have that much more money to spend on myself? Shoot, if skuzzy-looking cannabis activists can get picked up, then surely I can be trusted to be given a ride. How hard can this be!



I found the demarcated liftplaats in Amsterdam, held up my sign - BERLIN (with a a little bear drawn on for good measure) - and waited. Clean-cut, showered, and travelling light (I discarded and 'donated' nearly half my luggage to the hostel the previous night) I was hopeful and in place at 11am. Ten minutes later three white girls came by. Two were heading to Osnabruck and the one with the guitar, Berlin. Five minutes later three white girls, rucksacks, guitar and all were riding to Germany -- in the same vehicle. Oooooookay. After twenty-five minutes of nothing the hitch-hiking guide suggests one head to the nearby gas station around the bend, reasoning drivers would be easier to talk to and, thus, less resistant to picking up strangers. Another twenty some minutes dragged by. Nope, no luck there either. Running out of patience and time - I figured to use the remaining minutes on the 1hour metro card to get back to the hostel - I headed back to the liftplaats for one last try. There I saw an itty-bitty little two-seater giving a lift to a typical-looking backpacker and his typically overstuffed rucksack -- with the original passenger squeezing in the back to make room. And with that all optimism went with the wind.

Thankfully I managed to get a discounted bed in the hostel and comfortably regrouped for another day. To infer my skin color negatively effected my chances of scoring a lift may not be empirical data but, then again, I'm not an empirical scientist. I'm the oft overlooked traveller: a black man. Real world is my laboratory. And that's what this website is all about. 
Or As the old rhyme melodically chimes: If you're white, you're all right. If you're yellow, you're mellow. If you're red, go on ahead. If you're brown, stick around. If you're black, get back.  

PS: I didn't get a ride in Mexico City either.

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USA defeats Mexico in soccer

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Oh how I'd love to have been back down in Mexico this week...
when United States of America beat them for the first time ever in soccer.
Sure, it's one small soccer match for US, but one big motherfucking loss for Mexicans!

Viva America! Aye, aye, aye

read more about Mexican fans' reaction here

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If boys are boys, what are girls?

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The one obnoxious episode in bunking at Sarphati Hostel involved some girls. 
Dumb, punch-drunk girls...from England for what it's worth. (Certainly not the type whose parentage ever fretted over "presenting" them to society.) I believe the local word for them is...twats?

Read more: A Muckraker Other: The infallibility of women in Christian society 

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