All posts tagged: germany

Bright Spots | The Bavarian Edition

Signs of the season on a solo walk to the river. I ended up here, looking out onto the houses sat on the island I once called home. Geraniums beside the Danube. Christl is the most wonderful, understated pianist. And she makes pretty fabulous Kuchen too. (This one was of the lemon and hazelnut variety.) Climbed up the hill with my borrowed bike to see my favourite view. There was a beautiful wedding just ending at the church on the peak. A yellow van decorated with gypsophila, a delicate lace gown, smiles on every face. It made my heart swell. Wandering the streets of Munich. Ending up beside the river Isar.   Autumnal posies at the Wochenmarkt. I wanted to scoop up armfuls for their scent alone.

Left My Heart in Bavaria

I don’t talk about Regensburg here as much as I once did (I present to you, ladies and gents, exhibits one, two and three) but I still hold a candle for it in my heart just as bright and am always secretly planning my next visit (or full-blown, up-sticks, drop-everything return!) It’s my favourite city as well as the namesake for this blog and I’m so happy to be waxing lyrical about my city soulmate – Danube! Gelato! Bike rides! Spires! – over on Atlas Addict. I’d love it if you’d take a look and even more, if you’d consider visiting Regensburg (with room in your suitcase for me, danke.) It’s the best place on Earth, truly. Guide to Regensburg, Atlas Addict | (photos) on film & digital, 2011-2015

Alone In Berlin

I’ve never lived in Berlin, yet somehow the city feels like home. It is well-worn and familiar, like a beloved coat dug up from the innards of one’s wardrobe. I must have visited a dozen times over the years: on cross-country express trains that hurtled through the former East before depositing passengers at the Hauptbahnhof; to gallivant about town with Emmy in Prenzlauer Berg; to kiss a boy in an 18th century ballroom; to cycle around the Tiergarten with my mother. Perhaps that is why I feel at so home in the German capital. Or perhaps it’s the comforting grey skies, the familiar German street names that remind me of Regensburg, the friends I now have dotted about the city’s neighbourhoods. In December I found myself alone in Berlin, an envelope of twenty-six hours to use as I pleased. I had grandiose plans to meander through Kreuzberg, visit the Jewish Museum, to treat myself to a fancy cup of joe at one of the new cafes on Auguststrasse. The bleak skies tempered by strings of advent lights hung all …

Been There | Black and White Berlin

Germany boasts a smorgasbord of vibrant (and underrated) cities. But there’s nowhere quite like Berlin. My trip to the German Hauptstadt was a whirlwind of seeing and doing and walking and eating and drinking and friend-ing. We marched all over the city until our legs ached (Berlin is HUGE) and enjoyed the brief moments of morning calm in our tiny Kreuzberg apartment before venturing out for the day. We danced through the night and laughed all day; filled our hearts with joy, our stomachs with good food and Radler, and came back with goofy photobooth snaps and new laughter lines. A weekend and a half well spent, dare I say. And, of course, I still have Berlin on the brain. The visit re-awakened my love for Germany and the Germans, for a life there again. One day, maybe. For now I’m content with the memories and the pictures (to be shared in the coming days, without restraint I’m afraid!) and the fact that life in London has picked up just where it left off, at full speed, and I am happy and …

Been There | Berlin Berlin

Outside an icy rain was falling. Men in Bavarian-blue shirts shovelled schnitzel into their mouths as they sat on stools at the bar, thick legs dangling. I ran my hand across the counter, tracing the indentations in the wood with my palm, watching the cigarette smoke outside the window float through the air. I was twenty and fresh from a cross-country train, sharing a plate of tiramisu in that airy bar with a man I was falling in love with. I spent the rest of the weekend dancing in a 1913 ballroom in celebration of my best friend’s 21st birthday, sidestepping puddles of snow in the streets, falling in love with Berlin too. And I haven’t been back since. But I have Berlin on the brain. I’ve been thinking of the city’s wide boulevards and grafitti-smothered walls. The rattle of the U-Bahn, its windows emblazoned with the small insignia of the Brandenburg Gate. The Baroque splendour of the cathedral twirling up from the ground. The skeleton of a bombed-out church rising resplendent along the Kurfürstendamm. Schloss Charlottenburg in the autumn. Hot chocolates piled …