Sächsische...Silly!

19. Mai 2011

On occasion I have been known to be silly. Silly mixed with a healthy dose of the comic events that seem to saunter along in my wake. Combined with the fact that I'm super busy and a little stressed at the moment, a good friend of mine, my salsa buddy from university (and current penpal), T, is coming to visit me in Germany this week, and I'm so excited I'm practically spinning. All this crazy energy has certainly made for an interesting past week or so.


I shouldn't be allowed a bike.

 It all started two weekends ago when the inevitable happened. I finally fell off my bike. I can't really explain it any other way than by saying this: I have no fear. And on my bike, if you know me at all, you know that I SHOULD have fear. But apparently not. Here is the inner monologue I had with myself in the five or so seconds prior to crashing:

"Gee, look at that car parked half way in the bike lane. It's pretty narrow. Can I fit there? Sure, why not? Well, maybe not, but I could take that curb, right? Um, bad call. AHHHHHHHHHH!"

In my attempt not to look stupid by having to do the awkward hop-run off my bike, I effectively willing rode into a seven inch curb, resulting in a stunning display of my side-hopping abilibes as my bike rebounded off the curb into me before I took it over with me into the rock bed surrounding a tree. Fantastic. I landed on my hands, knees ricochetting painfully off bike bars. Somehow my knees and my dignity were the only parts that came out bruised. I guess I wasn't going that fast. In what world did hitting a curb seem like a good idea? No fear, I tell you.

Come to think of it, this isn't the only recent bike disaster of mine. A week or so prior to the curb incident, I inadvertently let all the air out of my tire when I was trying to pump it up five mintues before I needed to head to Wernigerode. It came rushing out at record speed, which I wasn't expecting, and I really wondered how it could be so hard to pump up a bike tire. Granted I did end up having a flat, so I wasn't totally to blame, but it still added insult to incompetency. It turned out to be lucky that I went forth sans bike because, aside from the fact that my tire probably would've died on my trip, my train to Dessau was so late that I had to run two flights of stairs to change platforms, which I never could've managed while lugging my bike.



Hiking in the Sächsische Schweiz
The Bastei

 Last weekend was spent with a fellow ETA, Emily, in Leipzig because we wanted to visit the Saechsische Schweiz for a hike. We got out at Kurort Rathen and took the ferry over the river to climb the hundreds of stairs up to the Bastei. The view was magnificent over the blue-skied, fertile valley and the fresh air and enticingly eerie magic specific to German forests gave me the getaway I'd been craving. ä



You can probs see the Czech Rep.
from here



To get back to my main point, though, my mind works in mysterious

ways, linking from one thing to the next at the speed of light, and in part because she thinks this way as well, Emily and I are epic conversationalists. When she and I get together or talk on the phone, you can guarantee that no work will actually get done as we bounce from topic to topic, with each one increasing the nerdiness quotient of the conversation, the longer we talk. Usually we subject bounce



Literally right out of
Caspar David Friedrich



simultaneously, but it has been proven that we are NOT indeed telepathic. In a rare silent moment as we descended scores of metal squares on the Schwedenloecher (Swedish holes) Trail, my energetic frenzy helped me take about ten gigantic mental steps away from the previous conversation we'd had before saying, "There are a lot of German verbs that start with 'e'," in a quippy yet contemplative tone. Emily just laughed. I would've too, honestly.

The night of the Castle season finale was not better...it was perhaps the so-called icing on the cake, in fact. The particularly wrenching finish to the third season did not help make me any calmer, and post-Castle that evening I was pouring my energy into my favorite new activity: travel enabling. I got on g-chat to enable Emily.

Me: We have to go through Leipzig on the way to Weimar. You should come with T and me.

E: Well, I'd like to, but I have to see about money.

Me: We all go on a Sachsen-Anhalt Ticket, then it's 10 Euros each.

E: Oh, well I should be able to handle 10 Euros.

We proceeded through a variety of tangents before landing on the topic of if getting to Croatia in July is feasible. WE were discussing potentially flying with EasyJet from Hamburg.

Me: I'm trying to figure out where they fly...It looks like they fly to Zagreb from Hamburg on EasyJet.

E: but we'd have to get to hamburg

Me: Querdurch ticket.

Emily: ah, right. i feel like that's just your comeback now

Me: :)

E: i could make a "your mom" joke and you would find a logical way to say "querdurch ticket."
 
At least my energy's being put to good use. And that brings me to today, Monday, where I am sitting antsily in school, waiting for the moment when I can throw the 80s tunes on now my Ipod and suppress the urge to dance down the street (I should be banned from the 80s when I'm excited...they don't do anything to help that situation!), so I can get home to pack a bag and then hop on a train to the Berlin airport, where at 21:30 this evening, if all goes as planned, I can start putting all my frenetic energy into being a good hostess!!

Deine,
N*

It’s Like GREEN…and Then Mountains!

07. April 2011

Last weekend I finally made “the pilgrimage.” Ever since I started learning German, I’ve been inoculated with photos of Bavaria and castles, especially Neuschwanstein. So although it’s definitely the American cliché, when a fellow ETA mentioned she’d be going to Neuschwanstein and needed a travel buddy, I was in!

 

German countryside from train

After eight hours in three different trains (regional, to save money, and also why it took so long), I arrived in Munich and set right to work being a tourist. I did a self-guided city-center tour, visiting three churches, including one that looked like Rococo threw up on it. Seriously, I don’t think it gets more intense than the Asamkirche. Can you say phantasmagoric? Between the stunning stark three dimensional visual impression of black marble, laced with white curls, the gilding and the ornamentation that is so impossibly intricate, I think the décor’s extent is actually unfathomable. Another church, the Theatinerkirche, was chalky white stucco and covered over with floral elements – also white – in high relief, relying on the contrast of the shadows on its surface for visual impact. I have yet to visit a city that matches Munich for such a truly out of this world church viewing experience.

Then I moseyed my way past the royal palace, and an obelisk to where else but the museum? For three thrilling hours I allowed my senses to be enchanted by the sights, sounds and smells of art, including among other noteworthy specimens (I like to think of art having a life of its own. Museums breathe life into me by the bucketful and sometimes it amazes me that the sturdy walls of these metaphorical fortresses are capable of playing host to those lively, rattling art souls.), Overbeck’s “Italia and Germania”, Van Gogh’s “Sunflowers” and some real stunners by Klimt to remind me of the frenetic energy smoothed into soothing color and patterns I find so hypnotizing in his works, just in case I had forgotten.

That evening April arrived and we went in search of dinner and strolled through the lighted cobblestone streets in peaceful preparation for the excitement that was to come on the following day when we took the eight hour Neuschwanstein tour.



Beautiful Alps!



“Oh my gosh!...It’s like GREEN…and then mountains!” proclaimed the Michiganesque Valley Girl behind us on the train, her words rolling off her tongue blithely as our train rolled through the staunchly green and blue panorama of hills and sky that suggested the opening scenes from “The Sound of Music” to my ready imagination. The views from the rest of the day were no less visually stimulating as I entered the magical world of Neuschwanstein, left unfinished by the “Fairytale King” Ludwig II of Bavaria’s mysterious death. “Es ist ein Märchen” (It’s a fairytale), just like Frau Doktor T, my Russian teacher, told me it would be. From the bridge you can see the stony white turrets reflecting brightly against the green valley and plains near


Neuschwanstein!



the town of Füßen below. Inside the few (relatively speaking, since there are about a hundred rooms) rooms Ludwig II managed to fully decorate and furnish, the intensity of the detail, the richness of the colors and the dedication to bringing all things Wagner to life is unbelievable. It’s a shame that Ludwig II never had the chance to really live there or finish this one of the many projects to which he was so dedicated. I would also be curious to know what was really going on in the mind of a man who dedicated so much time and money to building such extravagant castles. All in all, it was a perfect day; the perfect escape, as perhaps Ludwig once thought of it too. Thanks, April, for being an awesome travel buddy and making the trip happen!

Sunday morning found me museuming again. Several of the museums are €1 on Sundays and special exhibitions are reduced as well, so I got into the visiting exhibit (with a Vermeer!! – “Woman Holding a Balance”) and the permanent collection of the Alte Pinakothek for €4. It just doesn’t get better than spending the morning wandering among Reubens, Rembrandt and Rosalba. Rosalba Carriera was a pastel portrait artist was able to do the near impossible and make a decent living as an artist as a woman during this the 18th century. Looking at her work you can see why. Not only are her pieces incredibly accurately personalized, but all the details of clothing and accessories are so painstakingly lifelike that it’s all you can do not to touch them just to see if they aren’t somehow real. Plus the depths of the pastels seem to breathe life into the subjects’ features. I feel like seeing all these works live is putting the 3rd dimension into my Art History education. I can only imagine the ultimate learning experience: Lecture IN the museum. Sublime.



Hohenschwangau and Schwannsee



Along the train ride home, the announcements gradually morphed from Southern dialect back to the relatively accentless German I am accustomed to. But I smiled as I left Hof – on my way southward two days before, my fellow passengers and I had glanced at each other in surprise as an intelligible, but distinctly different German blared forth for the announcements. That was the first of many times during the trip that I thought to myself, “Dorothy, you’re not in ‘Kansas’ anymore.” Today I was ready for it, but I’ll admit that as magical as my time in Southern German ‘Oz’ was, I’m still never disappointed to return to Sachsen-Anhalt – the place in Germany that I now truly feel at home.

Deine,


Amazing Apfelstrudel

N*

Lappach

I have to say that leaving the beautiful valley in Lappach, Italy was much harder than I imagined. While I was there, I felt at home in the beautiful, craggy Alps, that reminded me of my own Rocky Mountains, and I fell in love with the thrill of speed. Much like when I’m riding a bicycle, once I got comfortable skiing, I was enamored with the speed of it, and it’s amazing how much I improved so quickly. I only fell about 10 times the whole week and not at all in the last days. I went from skiing “pizza” to skiing “French fry” as one of my Colorado friends so eloquently put it.

There’s nothing quite like riding the ski lift to the top of the mountains at Sonnklar to enjoy a 360 degree panoramic view of snow-covered peaks and valleys filled with quaint villages, and knowing that the only way down is in your own hands. It was amazing how over the week, the slopes that seemed impossibly steep to me started to look downright inviting, and the extreme s-curves across the slope to slow my skiing turned to more gentle swoops with my increasing speed. The euphoria of the views and the speed enabled me to ignore the exhaustion that would soon set in at the end of each day. I could’ve skied forever.

On the last day, I took the test that the 11th graders had to undergo, and I came out with a ‘2’. In the German grading system, a ‘1’ is pretty much perfect, and a ‘2’ is very good, so I was pleased. The students really seemed to enjoy that I had to go through the test as well. Everyone in my ski group came through well, so we were all pleased. Learning to ski with the class allowed me that chance to talk to a lot of the students, and I’m now reaping the benefits of this in class. The seventeen-year-olds have been a tough crowd, but since I’ve worked with them after the ski trip, they seem to trust me enough to speak more. They are smart and really a pleasure to work with. At least if I had to leave the Italian Alps behind, I left with a group of students and teachers who have enlarged the family I’ve been lucky enough to build since I’ve been in Germany.

Deine,
N*