Posted in Life, Photography, Travel

Berlin – Leipzig – Rothenburg ob der Tauber

My castle experience ended much as it had begun – a 5 hour bus trip in which I sat quietly watching the countryside and distinctive architecture of the buildings flash past. On the return journey I reflected on what I’d just experienced and knew that I’d be mulling over it for some time to come.

Here is some of the Polish countryside that flashed past as we made our way back to Berlin.


It was an early night for me, then a trip into Berlin the next morning. I headed to the Checkpoint Charlie Museum, to learn more about the wall that divided a city overnight. I admit to not knowing a lot about it before my trip to the museum – but it’s so full of stories, artefacts, information, and photographs that I now know a whole lot more.

Filled with information, I wandered outside, into the light rain, and watched as people lined up to have their photo taken at Checkpoint Charlie. I then made my way to one of the last remaining remnants of the Berlin Wall … it was much more confronting than I had imagined it would be.

For those of you who, like me, don’t know much of the history …

The Berlin Wall was a guarded concrete barrier that divided Berlin from 1961 to 1989. It encircled West Berlin, separating it from East German territory. Construction of the wall was commenced by the German Democratic Republic (GDR, East Germany) on 13 August 1961. The Wall cut off West Berlin from surrounding East Germany, including East Berlin. It included guard towers placed along large concrete walls, accompanied by a wide area (later known as the “death strip”) that contained anti-vehicle trenches, beds of nails and other defenses. (Wikipedia)

You can find more information here: https://www.britannica.com/topic/Berlin-Wall

I discovered that the hotel in which I was staying had been part of East Berlin and that’s why the stop and go figures on the traffic lights were so distinctive. You can read more about their development here.


From Berlin I made my way to Leipzig for an overnight stay. I was there less than 24 hours – it was really just a stopping off point for my trip to Rothenburg ob der Tauber.

In the limited time I had, I managed to climb to the top of the tallest building in Leipzig – the Panorama Tower. When I say ‘climb’, I mean I took the lift and then walked up two flights of stairs to get to the very top. I was surprised to find that the ‘top’ was outside!

Back on solid ground and not having to worry about the little kids sitting on the edge of the building, I wondered past the Opera House, through Market Square, past the old Town Hall – the foundation stone was laid in 1556 – and had a look around the farmers market. It was a lovely evening, but once the rain started I ducked into a jazz bar for dinner.

The lift in my hotel was interesting, although the sound of running water wasn’t something I really wanted to hear after a long afternoon/evening of wandering around the city!

The lift in my hotel in Leipzig

A good night’s sleep, and then series of train trips – from Leipzig to Nuremberg (Nurnberg), then to Ansbach, then to Steinach bei Rothenburg ob der Tauber and from there to my final destination in Germany: Rothenburg ob der Tauber. I had learnt to take screen shots of the trains and walking directions from my first experience in Berlin and it’s interesting going through my phone now and reminding myself of my journey. Each train was smaller but all were clean and comfortable.

I had found Rothenburg by doing a Google search for old cities in Germany. I’m so pleased I did. I’ll write about it in my next post, but here’s just a taste of the city and its surrounds.

Posted in Life, Travel

Marathon experience

I planned but I didn’t prepare. And that had consequences for later.

I’d arrived in Berlin on Saturday afternoon, and on Sunday morning it was time for the Marathon.

The Berlin Marathon is a big event. Huge. So big that the accommodation reserved for us was about an hour out of the city by train, all other city accommodation having been snapped up months earlier. Much of the public transport was disrupted on Sunday morning, especially closer to the centre of the city and even the hop on-hop off bus wasn’t running. Ironic really.

I was leaving by train the following weekend and wanted to make sure I knew how to get to the Berlin Hauptbanhoff without the issues I’d faced the previous day. So I thought I’d have a practice run. On Sunday morning. While the marathon was on and public transport was disrupted.

No tram for me today – train all the way. The train station was a mere 500m from the hotel, it was a crisp, clear morning and a walk in the fresh air would help blow away some of the remaining jet lag. One train from Spindlersfeld Station to Schoneweide (2 stops – the bonus being how lovely that word is to say), and then another train (10 stops) to the main station. Easy.

I bought my ticket, marvelled at the lack of ticket barriers, and enjoyed the train ride(s). I saw runners on the marathon route as the train drew closer to the main station and so once there and familiarised with the route and the station, I followed the noise, over the Spree River, through the Spreebogenpark, to Otto-von-Bismarck-Allee. Crowds of people lined the street, cheering on the runners. They had all kinds of noise-makers – one woman was banging two saucepan lids together – and they weren’t afraid to use them. I walked in the same direction as the runners and soon came across the 7km mark.

Crowds lining the streets to cheer on the runners

I kept walking, not at all sure where I was going or what I was doing, but it seemed like the right thing to do. I came across the 8km mark. I was a bit like Forrest Gump at this stage, although with less facial hair, and just kept walking.

More runners than cheerers at this point

Near the 9km mark there was a man standing on the side of the street holding a punching bag out in front of him. On the punching bag was a photo of Vladimir Putin and an invitation to punch it. Many runners used a little bit of their precious energy to give it a good wallop.

9kms and still going strong – the runners that is. Me, not so much.
I wonder if the smiling man had seen the sign on the window.

Over the past year, various members of the family have been involved in a weekly photography challenge. We catch up on Sunday evenings to chat about the photos and how our week has been. 7:30 on Sunday evening in Australia translated to 10:30 on Sunday morning in Berlin, so as 10:30 approached I searched for a cafe. I found one – the Röststätte, on Ackerstraße – which just so happened to be on the other side of the road.

Yes, that meant crossing the road. Yes, crossing the road down which hundreds of runners were running. Crossing in front of them. Cutting through them to reach the other side. I had seen a number of people step nimbly across the road, not getting in anyone’s way, so knew it could be done. I started out confidently, timing my not-so-nimble steps with what I thought was a gap in the group of runners. It turned out not to be a gap, and so I got half way across the road and stopped. They ran around me like I was a boulder in a stream. One man kindly told me I was going the wrong way, but I could tell already that a marathon wasn’t for me (sorry Jen).

I eventually made it across – hoping I hadn’t cut time off someone’s personal best in doing so – and found a quiet corner in the cafe.

After our catch up, I kept walking until I came across the U Rosenthaler Platz (an underground train station). I slowly made my way down the steps to the platform, got off at Brandenburger Tor, made my way slowly up the steps to the street, and headed towards The Brandenburg Gate – which was very close to the finish line.

The Brandenburg Gate – only a km or so to go at this point
Almost done!

When Neil Diamond’s Sweet Caroline played over the loudspeakers the whole crowd, including many runners, joined in. It lifted their spirits in a way that few other songs did and seemed to give many an extra boost of energy as they drew close to the finish line.


By the time I got back to the hotel later that afternoon, my right knee, which is problematic at the best of times, my feet and my calves all let me know, quite forcefully, that I had overdone it.

I walked over 12kms that Sunday – nothing like a marathon, but it was a distance I had not adequately prepared for.

I had also, I realised with a big dose of ‘I can’t do this’, not adequately prepared for the reality of meeting a group of strangers, travelling by bus with them to a different country, and then spending 5 days with them at a conference. WhatsApp messages had started coming through earlier in the day – of people’s arrival times in Berlin, invitations to meet up for a walk/drinks/dinner, information on COVID testing centres. Dinner was arranged for 7pm for those staying at the hotel, and in a fit of bravery (of course you can do it Sharon!) I headed for the meeting place in the lobby.

As I headed towards the group I noticed they were all men. At that point my bravery jumped ship and I veered off into the hotel restaurant to have dinner on my own.

What had I done? Why had I said yes to this when I so easily could have ignored that particular email? Two years ago I’d been all for stepping out of my comfort zone, but now, right at this minute when I was on the cusp of stepping out, I wasn’t so sure. In fact I was positively sure that stepping out was something I definitely could not do.

It wasn’t only the knee, calf and foot pain that kept me awake that night.

Posted in Life, Travel

It’s finally happened …

Just over five years ago – on September 28, 2012 – I packed my bags (well, ‘bag’ actually because I only took one) and headed to Paris and from there caught a train through France and Italy to Germany, stopping off at various places along the way. I went on my own – Tim had something else on – although I did meet up with my niece Sarah and her (now) husband Ben in Venice for a few days.

The year before – on September 28, 2011 – I had also packed my bag and headed to Paris to spend some time with various members of my family before the majority of them headed on a bike and barge tour to Bruges. I was fat and unfit in those days and decided to spend my time wandering around Paris on my own and visiting Elke in Germany, rather than jumping on a bike and riding for days and days.

In that year – 2011 – my granddaughter Lily was born (on the day I left), so the date remains in my memory long after other details have seeped out. What did I wear on the plane? How and when did I get European money? Useful stuff like that, that would come in handy right about now.

I vowed and declared I would return in 2013 and my hope was, every year thereafter.

I didn’t.

Fast forward to today. 20 December, 2017.

Our (yes, Tim is coming with me this time) bags are packed and we’re ready to go. Almost. We have time for dinner and a shower before we head to the airport – and one final check to ensure we haven’t left some small detail unattended to – like grabbing my passport from the drawer where I shoved it last month, hoping it would never see the light of a security check because the photo is THE worst passport photo. EVER. No, it truly is.

I can tell already that this is going to be a different sort of adventure.

For one thing, it’s winter in Paris and I’m not a big fan of the cold. My challenge will be to not whinge about it. It’s going to be a really (really) big challenge. Except I keep hearing how beautiful it will be, so a tiny part of me is thinking that it won’t be as much of a challenge not to whinge as I think. One challenge has been to pack for the cold when it’s 36C outside – trying clothes and my fur-lined boots on has been a sweat-filled task of epic proportions!

We’re going to France and Italy and the Czech Republic. Neither of us speak French, Italian or Czech and that wouldn’t usually matter because English is quite widely spoken, except that Tim has particular food intolerances (he doesn’t tolerate onion and garlic, for instance) and neither of us thought to learn to say ‘no onion; no garlic’ in any of those languages. We also neglected to learn the word for bathroom. Luckily for us we live in the 21st century, not the ones before, and that means we can use technology when our attempts at miming fails. We might even bypass miming ‘I need the loo’ and go straight to the technology.

 

We’ve booked photo tours in each major city we’re visiting – sometimes more than one – plus a ‘laugh your way around the Louvre’ tour with Cedrik – a clown. And yes, I checked, and no, he doesn’t dress up like a clown. He’s just a funny and entertaining man who makes the Louvre all kinds of fun. Daniel and Cathy gave us tickets to the Musee de l’orangerie so we’ll have fun exploring that as well.

We’re catching trains – my favourite form of transport – from Paris to London and from Paris to Mont Saint Michel and from Paris to Venice (via Basel and Milan). And then we’re catching a plane from Venice to Prague.

It’s going to be all kinds of interesting.

In a few hours we’ll be on our way. The excitement is building!

Who knows, we might even get some snow … although we possibly should have gone to Tassie for that!!

Ready … set … almost time to go!

Posted in Life, Melbourne, Photography

320

Free as a bird!

That’s me right now. Not as in kite surfing, but me as in free as a bird. I am officially between jobs and so am on holidays! Except for teaching … but apart from that, one job finished yesterday and my new one doesn’t start till April 24 … so I could go kite surfing if I wanted to!