Longing for a free world (part 4 - final)

I got to Leipzig Sunday afternoon. I was now rested after a good night sleep, and ready to visit the city. So, violin and bag in tow (I could not find any luggage lockers or storage) I started looking for a hotel. I had now some money, and I was tired of being homeless. As luck has it, I could not find any room, even after trying several hotels, which seemed rather strange. Finally, I decided to walk around. I recall getting to the Gewandhaus, the new concert hall, and watching concert goers enter the main lobby for some event. I kept walking and since I had no map of the city, I asked for directions to Thomas Kirche; after wondering for about an hour I got there; unfortunately I could not get in. I started wondering back towards the train station, thorough the city streets, with some 1950's buildings and a general state of cleanliness. It seemed a quiet city.

Back at the train station, I went to the restaurant, I got some good German beer, and sat at table with other travelers, all weary and tired (some even drunk). One of the young guys, seemingly alone, started talking, and I realized he was bashing the communist party. If you recall, early September 1989 had marked the start of the German riots and I was shocked that anyone would talk in public in such a dangerous way. I was even more surprised to realize that no police was in sight or at least they did not pick up the guy. I got out of there fast and decided to spend the night in the train station. That is a beautiful, massive, elegant building, with one huge main hall where all trains pull in; the same space houses all the stores, offices and restaurants and has no waiting room. The only place to sit was on some benches on the walkaways between the tracks, but there was no way to sleep in the noise. Every train at arrival and departure made awful screeching nosies from the breaks and the wheel systems, and blew the horn to cap it off - all noise was amplified in the cavernous building as in the nearby Gewandhaus - I had my own modern music concert.

Eventually, I decided to get a better sleep and boarded a train for Prague. I had an acquaintance living there, who had given me her phone number before I left Romania. She was a pianist, Anda Bogza, a year younger in school, and I knew her from years before as a student of Ludmila Popisteanu, the top teacher at Enescu High School in Bucharest. Her name was now Anda Bogzova, changed to sound more Czech. The arrival in Prague was next morning, around 7 AM. I knew the train station and the city a bit from a previous visit. The first thing I did was to change some money and then I called my friend. It was early, about 7:30 AM, but what the heck. She answered and said "my God, you are here. Come over right away." I took the subway and got off near the Charles Bridge. She actually lived a 1/2 block from the bridge, where she was renting a house with her boyfriend. I could not believe how nice she was and hospitable she was, especially in contrast with my ex-classmate. She saw me, and I probably looked terrible, since she said: " here is your room, go take a nap." I obliged and slept until about noon. When I got up, I was ready to get going. She and I visited some old familiar places, you know, the usual tourist attraction, Charles Bridge, Hrad, the City Hall Square. If you've been in Prague recently, it is scary now because of the crazy tourist atmosphere: overcrowded, cheap souvenirs and not much peace. At that time tough, there were hardly any foreign tourists, so I had a great time getting the feel of the place, the street scene as it was experienced by the locals. I recall with great fondness the concert I attended at the Rudolfinum Concert Hall to hear the Prague Symphony.

Eventually I realized that Anda's boyfriend was a little jealous or uncomfortable, so I made my mind to book a hotel room, to avoid any uncomfortable situation. After four days of wonderful times in a great city, I decided to head back to Romania. I stopped in Budapest for a day, then the final train ride to Bucharest took me another 10 hours. I got nervous at Curtici, but the border was simpler coming back. When I arrived home, I found out that the morning after my stay in Leipzig there had been a huge youth gathering, followed by a riot in the city and fighting with the police. I had missed the beginning of the German revolution by a couple of hours.