
All right, so of course I didn't do the sort of writing I imagined I would while in Germany. It's nice to have goals though, right? Even if you don't reach them, you still... um... set them for yourself?
Germany was wonderful. Wonderful! Two weeks spent in appreciation of beauty on both a small and grand scale. Tearing my eyes away, occasionally, from Alpine vistas and historic cobblestone streets, I couldn't help but think, over and over again as different examples presented themselves to me, that I had found a new... home? Is that the word to use here? Too strong?
**All right, stop please! Stop right here for just a second. Before I continue, I want you to understand that I am NOT the girl who spends her vacation in Europe then comes home to say "I'm so much more European than American. Absolutely. I belong in Europe. Or as we like to say it in Deutschland
-yes Deutschland
, not Germany- Europa." I swear to you that I am not that girl. I am an American through and through, and love my homeland for all its beauty, possibilities, contradictions, flaws, etc. That being said...**Oh, it was lovely! And so many of its details fit exactly with my own personal way of doing things; it was uncanny. There were silly little things like Apfelschorle, a drink made of half juice, half sparkling water (I do that all the time! I never drink juice straight - I always dilute it!), and Ballisto, which is like a Twix bar, but all cookie and no caramel (the cookie is my favorite part of the Twix bar!).
Beyond snacks, there was something about Germany that appealed to me on a much deeper level. The climate fit me perfectly, for one thing. Summers aren't so (painfully, horridly) hot, and a cool breeze made me reach for a sweater every night. I slept with a window open and reveled in the cold, clean air that slowly filled the room. For breakfast, Oliver and I went to an open air market for bread, meat and strawberries. Good food too - the strawberries were red all the way through, delicious, and a far cry from the sad little moldberries I sometimes bring home from Pathmark. You can go to an open air market in New York too, but it's so different. Farmers' markets have this edge to them: "we're
environmental. This food is
locally grown. you're supporting a
small business. This is all great of course, but there was something about doing the same thing without the ideology and fanfare... it was nice. Apparently these markets are all over Germany. People bring their baskets, fill them up with reasonably-priced food, go home and eat/cook. End of story.
Additionally, there seemed to be very little ideology and fanfare in the biking and walking people did to get to the market. Or to work, or to the bar to meet with friends. I think this was my favorite part of Germany. Cars don't absolutely rule the road, and bikes are everywhere. I would saw off a limb (someone else's, not one of mine) to live in a city full of bike paths! Oliver and I tried biking in the heart of Manhattan once... let's just say it wasn't a success. In Germany, the bikers and walkers (and hikers in Bavaria) were everywhere. Exercise, something I've always had to struggle to fit into the day, came about so easily and naturally. I couldn't help but think, over and over as I saw fit Germans all around me, this is how it's supposed to be.
One final "this is how it should be": we visited Koenigsee, an unbelievably beautiful lake in Bavaria. It's a huge tourist draw, with towering mountains above and crystal clear water plunging up to 600 feet below. The tourist boats that skim the surface at all hours of the day: electric. They've been electric since 1909. Koenigsee's water is a sparkling emerald color or a deep blue, depending on your view. It's also drinking quality. I've got a little soft spot in my heart for the German people, I have to say. They looked at their lake, a lake that apparently symbolizes their nation, and they decided to keep it clean. And that's that.
A bit more to come...