Scaling Gates

My shoes with the scuff marks as a result of climbing over gates in the middle of the night. (Mar. 2015)

My shoes with the scuff marks as a result of climbing over gates in the middle of the night. (Mar. 2015)

Those are my shoes… one may well ask – what’s special?

I’m in a peculiar phase right now, where I find myself scaling locked gates these days in the dead of the night. Those scuff marks you see on the side of the shoes are a result of my strenuous efforts to get over to “the other side”… Two notable examples come to my mind – possibly out of the sheer hilarity of the situation.

Earlier in January this year, I was attending a get together in the abbey of Münsterschwarzach. Its premises are quite sizable and all the doors are operated using an electronic chip-key (you get one only if you plan on staying overnight – I wasn’t, so I didn’t have one). When I finally bid farewell to the other guests to drive back to Munich that night, I thought I would leave the way I came in. I let myself out and guess what – the 12-foot high, iron-wrought gates were closed. I tried calling one of the other guests to let me back in – no reponse. I tried calling the reception of the abbey – no response (the people there sleep early … and it was just 09:00 pm!). I walked around a bit to see if there were some other way out… nope, I was stuck! The next minute I was trying to clamber up the gates … fingers numb with cold, gingerly avoiding getting impaled on the spikes at the top!! Not very elegant and I hope they didn’t get me on any security cameras … It would have been funny (or not so funny) if someone passed by right that moment to see an Indian scaling the gates of an abbey in Münster-in-the-middle-of-nowhere-schwarzach!  But the experience left its mark on the shoes … the trauma they had to go through …

And then yesterday – in Luxembourg … I am actually here on a business trip and we were in some bar in the Grund. Around midnight, our hosts decided to take some fancy way back to the hotel and there we were confronted with another closed gate… The alternative to this path involved a lengthy detour. The high spirits we were in made us approach the dilemma with unbridled enthusiasm of 16-year-olds … we’ll just scale this bloody gate! And there I was again…clambering over another gate (though a bit shorter than the abbey gates and minus the threatening spikes, so no danger of being impaled on one of those!). Again, not very elegant in execution of the strategy, but effective, though I believe I might have hurt my ankle in the process.

Oh well… through the day today I have been staring down at those scuff marks … someday these shoes will be dumped away (against my will, I assure you – refer to my post on my attachment to inanimate objects). So I thought I’d put these stories and the picture here. Even if the shoes get dumped, the memories won’t.


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