A Most Unusual Dinner

March 4, 2008

Photo by author

As the sun settled itself below the snow covered German Alps, two sensations suddenly hit me. Hunger and dread. Hunger because after a full day of exploring the town of Garmisch-Partenkirchen I hadn’t eaten anything more than a pastry, and dread because my only fear in traveling alone is eating alone. I’m at ease traveling through a country where I barely speak the language, but I would almost rather go hungry than to sit in a restaurant by myself.

After wandering around the Marienplatz for half an hour, and my growling stomach and frozen toes made me finally chose an Italian restaurant that seemed
friendly enough. I know I should have gone for more traditional German fare, but the idea of a plate of spaghetti for six euros was too much to pass up. So I
nervously entered and waited as the hostess searched the crowded restaurant for a table for one. As I stood there, I noticed all the happy families and friends
dining…together. My sense of dread surged up again, or was it a hunger pain? The hostess eventually found a small table for me next to the front entrance.

Great, I thought, now people can look at this friendless traveler as they enter. Then I started to wonder how many of the customers might mistake me for the hostess and how much this would interrupt my meal. Before these thoughts even finished leaving my head I realized the hostess and another woman were trying to get my attention. The other woman, whose name is now
lost to memory, was inviting me to have dinner with her and her family. I couldn’t believe it! This was the German hospitality I had read about.

I walked to the table and, yet, another wave of dread overcame me. I can be quite shy when talking to new people. I also started to wonder how this arrangement would work. Do I have to talk to them the whole time? How do we split the bill? Do they even know English? The meal began awkwardly. The woman’s two children mostly stared at me and I soon realized I should have ordered a larger soda. My nervous sipping had drained my glass instantly.

Much to my relief the parents spoke enough English and I was able to pronounce enough German for a conversation. As the meal progressed, the elder of the two children, who was thirteen, finally worked up her own courage to ask me a question about my pets in English. I tried my best to tell her in German that I owned one dog. A wave of relief washed over her and soon over me. I came into this restaurant to face my fear of eating alone and I ended up conquering my
shyness. Separate bills came for each of us; we paid and went our own ways. The family probably ended up discussing their day while I just walked back to my hotel with a smile on face.

About the author:Mirit Gold lives in Orlando, Florida. On a daily basis she makes magic for tourists at a theme park, but otherwise spends hours dreaming and saving money for her next big adventure. Besides, her passport still has too many empty pages.