In the late 80's I was spending quite a bit of time in Europe with a start up company. I would travel around Europe for a month at a time, several times per year. I was single, so I took advantage of the time to sightsee on weekends without worrying about getting home . This particular trip, I had finished some business in Paris and had to be in Dusseldorf, Germany on Monday. I decided to take a train to Germany and enjoy the sights from the window. I had a train schedule and travel guide and no real plan for the weekend except to meander my way to Dusseldorf. Remember, this was the pre-internet and pre-cellphone days, so travel was a little more seat of the pants. I had lunch with colleagues in Paris and headed out for a good weekend, or so I thought.
A couple hours into my trip, I really started to feel ill. Sweats and nausea came first and then vomiting and diarrhea. The toilets in trains then, and maybe some now, just dropped onto the tracks. You could literally see the track bed of gravel below you. Pity the poor guy walking along those tracks after I went by.
As I got sicker and sicker, it was pretty clear I needed to get off the train. I can't recall why I thought this but I guess I felt the need to lay down and find a better place to hug a toilet. When we reached the next town, I just got off. I had no idea where I was. I wandered around looking for a hotel. I found one after a half hour or so and was able to get a room. The hotel was some where in Germany, small town and nobody at the front desk spoke english. They did not take credit cards but I had a few hundred dollars in DMarks so that was lucky. By the time I got to my room, I was seriously ill. I made it through the night but spent most of it on the toilet with a trashcan in front of me. It was not pretty. I kept trying to drink as much water as I could to keep hydrated but most of it came back up.
The next morning there was a knock on the door, the maid had arrived. I tried my best to convince her to go away but the language barrier was a challenge. She was trying to be persistent and at one point I blocked her from coming in. She left but returned a few minutes later with some front desk help. More discussion ensued with no real understanding of the situation. I kept saying "nein" and a pantomime of being sick and they finally went away. I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not as I was seriously sick.
Twenty minutes or so later, another knock on the door. In came the front desk lady along with a very attractive young lady. In perfect english, she asked me what the issue was. I explained my situation and she translated to the front desk lady. The front desk lady left and I spent a few minutes chatting with the english speaking girl. Her name was Helga. She explained that she worked at the local bank but had studied abroad. She was friends with the daughter of the couple that owned the hotel. They called her at home since they knew she spoke english. She stayed with me and I felt relieved but apologized quite a bit as the room smelled like a cell pool. The help came in and cleaned my bathroom and opened the windows. A few minutes later a doctor walked in, amazingly they called a doctor! He didn't speak english so again Helga translated. He figured I had food poisoning and gave me medicine and a shot. I slept like a log.
That night, Helga came back with food. The hotel only had breakfast so she brought an assortment of cheese, meat, fruit and bread. She was a really sweet girl, friendly and chatty with a great smile. I think she enjoyed speaking english as she didn't have much chance to practice.
I thanked her and the staff that night, they were really kind to me as I was just a stranger that walked off a train. A foreigner to boot. They went beyond any expectations a person could have. They treated me like family. I got back on the train the next morning with a new outlook. Maybe a little more positive feeling and renewed faith in people.
The next week while working in Dusseldorf, I had a colleague write a note in German thanking the staff at the hotel for their kindness. I wrote a note to Helga and we stayed in touch. We got to know each other better and spent quite a bit of time together over the next two years. I met her in Munich one year for Octoberfest. Once she showed up at my house in the US unannounced, but that's another story.
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| Not really Helga, but close |
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