July 31, 2016 §
730pm I’m the only person in the bar. From 630 to 745 there has been no one in the restaurant. Does everything get worse? Is this the law of life? The Dorint bar carpet looks exactly the same as the Ibis Brussels bed rugs. That seems a fascinating thing to discover. Sitting alone in the Dorint bar is pleasurable enough to tell me I will travel again, in the next month or so. My old addiction has returned. The bar staff may be boring, but! Remember Lotta and Sophia worked days! There is still hope for tomorrow. It feels like something extraordinary to realise the Dorint carpet is the exact same as the Ibis bedspreads. Now when I travel it’s just all memories—is this what turning — is? I wouldn’t recommend it!
July 30, 2016 §
I was halfway through my first Zipfer at the Dorint bar before I looked behind the bar and realised this is where Lotta stood eight years ago. It was quite an incredibly powerful moment. I travel always looking for another Lotta; another Riccarda; another Yulia, Diana, Iga, Emily, Martina—but I never meet them anymore. I travel looking for the real Lotta again, really. The more Zipfer I have the more that four days with Lotta comes more and more back to life—and the gap between that memory and this present reality more and more stark. When I look at —– I feel I am looking at myself. I feel so inseparable from her. If we met years in the future, having not seen each other for all these years, I would break down in tears unable to control my grief. Six years since I have been in the Dorint bar. Unbelievable. I miss my youth and innocence and hairtrigger eroticism of those days. But, I suppose, not the pain, the tortures, the agonies. When I start drinking, I only want to be alone, it’s true. This incredible paradox of being with someone is so hard for me to get my head around. For a normal person this is normal. To enjoy sin I’ve got to be so drunk that I cannot see, so I’ve completely lost my moral compass. Moral compass. What does that mean for a man like me. Being on my own at Gatwick I felt the most incredible hunger for every woman I saw; this is why I have to travel. Nothing happens, but that feeling keeps me feeling young, alive. I look at the armchair I sat in when Lotta suddenly appeared at my shoulder 8 years ago, and it seems like another lifetime, a dream; not something that really happened. But that’s how my journeys used to be. Unbelievable fantasies made real.