bruecken_schlag – Seite 15 – bruecken_schlag

Out of Budapest – Hungary’s Lake Balaton

Juli 23, 2013 / bruecken_schlag / Kommentare deaktiviert

While Budapest has gained a reputation of a travel destination worth your while, a lot of travellers neglect the rest of Hungary – a real shame. I haven’t seen nearly enough of it, but apart from Budapest I also immensely enjoyed the small town of Kecskemét with the Great Hungarian Plain National Park next to it; or the beautiful university city of Pécs in the South. I am excited to see the castel in Visegrád one day, and to taste the wines of Tokaj. There is one gem I want to recommend in particular, and that is the beautiful Lake Balaton.

My first encounter with Lake Balaton was in Siófok, on the Southern side of the lake, from where I wanted to take a ferry to the Northern shore – only to find out that outside of the season ferries were really scarce. I had to circle the lake on a bus instead. But already at first sight, at the pier in Siófok on a cold and windy early April day, I fell in love with the lake – because it looked grey and wild and untamed like the Baltic Sea I love so much. I understood there and then why it is justified that they call it the „Hungarian Sea“.

I am a little annoyed at the fact that apparently I wasn’t very good yet at taking pictures when I went there because the majority of the ones I have are not very good – but they should give you an impression of the beauty that can be found on the Northern shore of Central Europe’s biggest lake. I took these on a daytrip I took from Veszprém, a lovely town also worth a visit North of the lake. Just a thought: I imagine accomodation should be cheaper and easier to find there, so especially if you have a car, it might be wise you stay in Veszprém when you want to see the lake.

The first town I went to that day was Keszthely (say: „Cast-hey“ – yes, Hungarian is a very strange language!). The most notable thing in Keszthely was not the Balaton yet, but the gorgeous baroque Festetics palace.

I listened in on a German guided tour around the palace as I hung out in the park surrounding it. The guide mentioned lots of Hungarian, Austrian and other nobility, and I mused for a while on the fact that all he said sounded like out of a different world. The early Spring sun was warming my face, and I could only imagine how pretty the gardens must be a little later in the year.

Walking back to the bus station, I passed by beautiful secession houses, most of which were in that slightly run-down, morbid state I love so much. I also passed by this sign in German, which pointed out to me that probably during season there must be hordes of German tourists here.

While finding a German sign abroad would usually annoy me (if I wanted to read German signs I would have stayed home…), this one made me laugh. It says: „Excellent cuisine! Hotel manager: 143 kg. Restaurant manager: 126 kg. Head chef: 65 kg.“

From Keszthely I moved on to Balatonfüred. The quick walk through the cute little spa town took me right down to the promenade. How I would have loved to jump into the water! But it was too early in the year, the water still too cold. I did probe it with my hands, but it wasn’t too inviting. Of course, the beauty of taking the day trip at this time of year was that it wasn’t overflowing with tourists. I had views of the lake almost to myself.

As I had been advised to do, I kept the best for last: Tihany. The village situated on a peninsula that juts into lake Balaton was recommended to me by several people. And I was not disappointed. The abbey of Tihany, sitting proudly on the hill that comprises the peninsula, shone brightly in its white baroque beauty against a stunning blue sky.

It was closed, but I did not mind. With the day of walking towns and sitting on busses, as I had walked up the hill to the abbey, I felt both tired and completely relaxed. The views on the way up onto Belső-tó, another small lake on the Tihany peninsula, had been enchanting already.

What I had not expected was to find yet more incredibly views of Lake Balaton from the top of the little church yard of Tihany Abbey, but it quite took my breath away. While my first view of the lake had presented me a sea, an angry grey writhing entity alive with wrath and storm, angrily throwing waves back and forth, I now looked down upon an evenly blue mirror just sightly crinkled with tiny ripples.

I could not even quite make out at times where the horizon was, because the blue of the sky and that of the lake melted into each other in the dusk. Up here, the abbey behind me, the view into the wide lands before me, I understood the magic of change and constancy. The different faces of the lake fascinated me, and I was deeply thankful that I had gotten to see them both – the calm and the stormy side. I hope to return sometime during autumn when I imagine it to be equally lovely, yet uncomparable to what I have seen. Travel is finding constancy in the ever-changing.

What do you think? Is Lake Balaton a place you would like to visit – or have you been already and have something to add to my impressions?

Bristol Bridge in Bristol, England

Juli 21, 2013 / bruecken_schlag / Kommentare deaktiviert

Before I read up on this bridge, I didn’t think it was all that spectacular. Sometimes doing your research will open open up new worlds for you (even if it is just on wikipedia).

This is Bristol Bridge over Avon river in the harbour of Bristol. It dates back to 1768 and is name giver to the Bristol Bridge riot of 1793, a protest against acts that included new tolls and the tearing down of houses close to the bridge. This reminded me of people today fighting for participatory and democratic city planning. Living in Berlin and close to Tempelhofer Feld, an amazing area constantly threatened by being filled with luxury flats that no one can afford, this is a very acute and important topic for me.

The second interesting piece of information I found was that the word Bristol is derived from a Saxon word that means „Place of the Bridge“. Much like my beloved Mostar, the name of which means „Bridgekeeper“, this is thus the second town I have been to that carries a bridge in its name. All of this prompts me to want to go back to this enchanting city. I liked it much with all the waterways and the steep hills and the beautiful architecture. I am sure there is much more to discover there.

If you have read My Mission statement, you know why I love bridges. To me they are the most universal symbol of connection, of bringing people together and overcoming anything that may seperate us. I want to present to you pictures of bridges that I really love in places that I really love on my blog every Sunday. If you have a picture of a bridge that you would like to share with my readers as a guest post, feel free to contact me!

From my Travel Playlists

Juli 18, 2013 / bruecken_schlag / Kommentare deaktiviert

There is a playlist on my iTunes that I treasure dearly. It holds the music I had on my iPod shuffle when I travelled the Balkans three years ago. A limited selection of songs that accompanied me on many bus and train rides through the beauty that is South Eastern Europe. Tunes so familiar to me that I know every change of rhythm and every funny note, and for most of them, the entire lyrics. Some of them I started out with, some of them I added while on the road. I picked a selection of them to share with you – because when I am having a melancholic day, I put on some Bosnian coffee and this music and I am transported back to Balkan sunshine and the soft rocking of a bus on a scenic route. And also because right now, it is summer in Berlin and I am happy, and this music makes this feeling ten times more intense.

1. Regina Spektor „Better“

If I kiss you where it’s sore
Will you feel better?

I love this song especially for its piano intro and for Regina’s slightly strange pronunciation of English. While the lyrics are actually quite blue, the melody is wide open. If songs had a colour, to me this one would be as turquoise as the waters of the Bosnian rivers I love so much.

2. Dixie Chicks „Not Ready to Make Nice“

I’m not ready to make nice
I’m not ready to back down
I’m still mad as hell and
I don’t have time to go ‚round and ‚round and ‚round

I downloaded the Dixie Chicks album because of a different song, but this one came to be ma favourite. I learned the whole history behind it only later, but it spoke to me as a fight song from the beginning, as a song that encourages you to stand by your anger and not surpress it, to admit to feeling hurt and misunderstood and treated unfairly. I sometimes forget that it is important to allow these feelings their space.

3. Bijelo Dugme „Tako Ti Je, Moja Mala, Kad Ljubi Bosanac“

Jesi l‘, mala, ljubila do sada?
Jesi, jesi – al‘ Bosanca nisi!

Have you kissed already, little girl?
You have, you have – but not a Bosnian man!

This song is on a Bijelo Dugme album that I bought in Rijeka in Croatia. Bijelo Dugme are something like the Yugoslav Rolling Stones, and quite a few of their songs just put a huge smile on my face because they are playful and silly and fun. I also learned quite a bit Bosnian / Croatian / Serbian by listening to their music.

4. Edward Maya „Stereo Love“

When you gonna stop breaking my heart?

There are no lyrics of any great depth to this song – what is so catching about it is the instrumental part. It was played in countless beach bars and night clubs I went to on my trip, and while at home I probably never would have liked it, on the trip it encaptured that feeling of relaxation, summer heat and freedom of care.

What do you think? Do you have travel tunes that remind you of a certain trip? Does music ever transport you back into a situation in the past?

Between Travels – Nostalgia and Anticipation

Juli 16, 2013 / bruecken_schlag / 6 Kommentare

I am not a full time traveller. I cannot tell you how often I have thought about becoming one. The idea of selling all my possessions and being on the road forever, living for seeing the world, moving from place to place and soaking up all the beauty that this earth has to offer – it is appealing and repelling to me all at once. Having grown up in very conservative circumstances where a stable income and a fixed residence were not ever even questioned, the nomad life that many of my esteemed fellow travel bloggers lead is like a dark temptress, a taboo, the conceptual equivalent to what in a romantic interest we would call a „bit of rough“. It fascinates me – but I’m afraid of it too.

Mark Twain and Henry Miller – I keep these wise quotes above my desk so I don’t forget to be curious ever.

As it is, I know that I could probably do that if I really wanted to, but I don’t think I do. Instead when I am sitting at home wishing that I was travelling instead, I revel in the joy of the next best thing to travel: anticipation.

There seldomly is a moment when I do not have a trip planned. It doesn’t need to be anything huge – a weekend in Hamburg with my parents, or in my favourite Polish city Gdansk, or down in Tübingen where I went to university – all these will do, because they give me something to look forward to, and even though I know all these places well, the fact that I do not live there allows for me to see them with a traveller’s eyes.

This wall in my corridor holds pictures of places I love – Hamburg, Greifswald and Tübingen are in there as my home towns in Germany, but also Turkey, Slovenia, Latvia, Croatia and Poland.

Sometimes sitting at my desk, my eyes wander longingly to the book shelf that holds my guide books. Not that I am big on using them. The only thing I ever really use in guide books are the maps and the information on bus and train times (although I don’t really rely on that either). I then dream of all the places in the books I have not seen yet and of all that awaits me, and I also look back a bit nostalgically to my past endeavours and the peace and the joy they have given me.

My guide books – the Eastern Europe one is one of my most prized possessions because it holds so many memories from when I used it on my trip around the Balkans.

Sometimes when it comes to this, I go and open my notebooks from trips past, and I reread what I wrote about those places, wondering if my memory or my noted down immediate impression would make for a more accurate picture of the places I am thinking about. I am grateful for everything that I have written in my notebooks, and I wish I had jotted down even more, because I wish I remembered every detail. But then again it is probably beneficial to my nostalgia that I do not. Nostalgia colours all my memories in a slightly golden tone and transforms the places into something precious. Which in the case of travel I cannot seem to find harmful or dangerous. Because the places are precious and they are special.

The book on the bottom holds my notes from Rome which I never wrote about on here – something I hope to change. The one on top is on a page where I wrote about Hungary.

Of course there is a reason that I am having these musings today. In a little over two weeks I am going to the US on my summer trip. The last time I was in the States is nine years ago. Nine years! I cannot even comprehend that time span. I am caught between different emotions. There is the great excitement to see one of my highschool friends from that year I spent in Texas as a teenager (now that is even 13 years ago!!), to have Taco Bell Seven Layer Burritos, to hear English all around me all the time with thick American accents, and to get to know a new city – Chicago. And at the same time I feel compelled to remember how I saw that country when I was younger, what it did to me, what it gave to me when I lived there. I am between nostalgia and anticipation.

I love being in this place. It makes me feel alive. I try to live in the moment in my daily life, but it is still easier for me to live in the moment when I am away, and that just logically leads up to me being nostalgic and anticipatory in between. As I write this, the excitement is ever growing. I cannot wait to experience Chicago, and, let’s face it, I cannot wait to write about it. I read a great quote by Jorge Luis Borges on twitter today:

A writer – and, I believe, generally all persons – must think that whatever happens to him or her is a resource. All things have been given to us for a purpose, and an artist must feel this more intensely. All that happens to us […] is given to us as raw material, as clay, so that we may shape our art.

When it comes down to it, I always come to the conclusion that I am not cut out for travelling full time and that I am better off as someone who has a defined home, a place I can resort to where things are not ever-changing. A place where there is allowed to be dullness, boredom and insignificance. But only under two conditions: I need to be allowed to reminisce and look back on past beauty. And I need to know that if I wanted to, I could pack up my bags and leave, the anticipation of the next exciting adventure.

First Bosphorus Bridge in Istanbul, Turkey

Juli 14, 2013 / bruecken_schlag / Kommentare deaktiviert

This week brings you an iconic, a well known bridge again. It connects continents – Europe and Asia, Ortaköy and Berlerbeyi – Istanbul and Istanbul.

This is the first Bosphorus Bridge, or in Turkish Boğaziçi Köprüsü, that spans over Bosphorus strait in the heart of that amazing metropolis that is Istanbul. I have written one of my most emotional blog posts about this city, and I consider it to be one of my places of desire, a true Sehnsuchtsort that my heart always aches for a little bit. Maybe it has spoken to me so much from the very beginning because it has bridges, connections over water, at the very heart of its being.

Ortaköy, from where this picture is taken with a view of Asia, is one of my favourite spots in Istanbul. Not only do they sell delicious Kumpir (essentially a baked potatoe filled with cheese and different salads) underneath the bridge, also it is a lively place that yet lacks the hassle and the hectic tourist masses of the Sultanahmed area with the Blue Mosque and Hagia Sophia. It is beautiful at every time of day with the light in its different shades playing on the water, and it feels a bit magical to be in this almost liminal space that seems to go by different rules than any other – it’s not like the rest of Europe or like the rest of Asia. It is particular and transitional, and funnily that has never made me uneasy, but always calmed me down immensely when I was there. I wish it on every traveller to get to see this place one day.

If you have read My Mission statement, you know why I love bridges. To me they are the most universal symbol of connection, of bringing people together and overcoming anything that may seperate us. I want to present to you pictures of bridges that I really love in places that I really love on my blog every Sunday. If you have a picture of a bridge that you would like to share with my readers as a guest post, feel free to contact me!

Gretchen’s Question, or Travel and Faith

Juli 11, 2013 / bruecken_schlag / 2 Kommentare

In one of Germany’s most prized pieces of cultural heritage, Goethe’s monumental drama Faust, there is a phrase that has become proverbial in the German language as the Gretchenfrage, or Gretchen’s question. This now refers to any question that is very hard to answer, but crucial for the inquirer; a question whose answer has so far been deliberately withheld or even avoided. You know that moment in a fresh relationship when you come across something that might be a deal breaker and you are reluctant to ask about it – or be asked about it – because it might drive the whole thing with this new person to an untimely end? Yes. A classic case of Gretchenfrage at stake.

Places of Worship? The Blue Mosque in Istanbul is certainly one of the most impressive ones

The original question that Gretchen asks Faust in the drama is if he believes in God, or actually „Say, as regards religion, how you feel.“ Faust tries to wriggle out of it, prompting Gretchen to be certain of his atheism. Many travellers visit St Peter’s Basilica in Rome or the Blue Mosque in Istanbul, and many travel bloggers have written about places of worship – I myself have done posts about St Paul’s in London or the Cologne Cathedral. Yet the question of faith or religion is hardly ever addressed. I wonder if this is because less and less of us believe in God or if it is just a topic that people try to avoid out of fear of stepping on someone’s toes.

Studenica Monastery in Serbia – a deeply spiritual place

My one explicit travel experience related to this was when I got into a very strange discussion with a girl I met in Croatia. I wear a cross on a necklace – a bit of a superstition really, but also a small commitment to my faith. The girl saw it and asked me if I believed in God. I said: „Yes.“ She asked: „Hardcore?“ I didn’t even really know what she meant by that, but since I don’t fanatically run to church every Sunday, I said: „No, not really.“ She said: „Good.“ And then she went on to explain to me how every person in the world who believed in God wanted her to go to hell because she was a lesbian. I tried to tell her that this wasn’t true, that I have a lot of gay friends and don’t want to see any of them in hell (a concept I do not even believe in). She wouldn’t have it and we didn’t exactly part on excellent terms.

My favorite church in Poland – the Dominican church in Krakow. They do student services on Sunday nights that are great for just the atmosphere even if you don’t speak Polish!

Personally I find my own faith to be a bit of a conglomerate of different ideas from various religious backgrounds. I was baptized Lutheran as a baby and had my confirmation aged 14. I went to a catholic primary school. I hung out in college with people who were into Hinduism. I have long had an inexplicable fascination with Islam. One of the reasons I loved the novel Life of Pi by Yann Martel is that the protagonist calls himself a believing and practicing Christian, Hindu and Muslim. How cool is that, really.

What’s more important to me, though, is that I have always put the values of humanity before the values of any religion. I actually think they should be the same thing anyway. I don’t believe it to be important what your God is called, as long as he gives you a few ideas as to how to live a good life. Anything destructive that religions do doesn’t go with the general idea in my book. The Oatmeal has really said it all in his brilliant comic How to suck at your Religion.

I had a moment of spiritual awakening in this church in Ohrid, Macedonia – a moment of truly being at peace with myself.

Now the beauty of travel is that it puts forward all the ideas of humanity that ideally religion should enhance as well, and more than that – travel can help you learn about what you believe in. And I don’t just mean that in terms of denomination – but that too. I learned so much about Islam when I was in Bosnia and Turkey, and it helped me understand certain debates that I only knew from the media so much better. I went to services in England, in Slovenia, Croatia and Serbia and many times in Poland and it’s taught me about the way that people celebrate their own beliefs.

It is hard to argue that in many cultures religion contributes immensely to the belief system of the people. Because of this, I think we should ask about religion more and learn as much about it as we can while we travel. Things are only ever scary as long as we don’t understand them. That goes especially for the weird fear-respect-scepticism mixture that I sense in many Westerners toward Islam – a beautiful and peaceful religion full of wisdom and love, from all I can say about it.

This is the Schlosskirche in Wittenberg, Germany, where Martin Luther started reformation by proclaiming is 95 theses.

When I had my preparatory classes for my confirmation 15 years ago (OMG did I just really write that…?), we discussed the concept of sin. I never liked it much, it had the whole guilt trip thing about it. My pastor explained to us that the German word for it, Sünde, is related to the word Sund – in English sound, a strait of water in an ocean between two landmasses. When we sin, we put a sound between us and another person (or, if you will, between us and God), we divide ourselves from others, we cease to be whole. In that explanation, the concept of sin made sense to me for the first time. And if we accept that this is so, then forgiveness means to build a bridge over the sound that has been created so that we can come together again. And once again the bridge is the symbol that, for me, sets everything right.

What do you think? Do you believe in God? Have you been confronted with questions of faith when you travelled? Do you talk to people about religion when you travel?

Bridge in Peja (Peć), Kosovo

Juli 7, 2013 / bruecken_schlag / 2 Kommentare

Today’s bridge is nameless and broken.

Peja is one of the larger cities in Kosovo, located in the West of the country close to Albania and Montenegro, in close proximity to the Prokletije mountain range. You can see it in the background of my picture, and I think the mist that covers the mountain tops adds to the idea that is in their name – Prokletije means the „cursed“ mountains. I wish I had been able to see more of the beautiful nature around, and the monasteries that are part of the UNESCO world heritage. I have written more about Kosovo in general in this post.

While I found Kosovo to be fascinating, rich in culture, full of beauty and culinary delights (I have forgotten the names of all the dishes, but I absolutely LOVED Albanian and Kosovar cuisine!!), there was no denying its burdensome recent history. Bullet holes in walls and houses in ruins were to be seen everywhere. What I found interesting was that while usually media show the supression of Kosovar Albanians, I here came across the bombed out Serbian neighborhoods and came to understand a little better that victims and perpetrators are not necesarily easily identified. This destroyed bridge was one of the sights that made me painfully aware of Kosovo’s past.

If you have read My Mission statement, you know why I love bridges. To me they are the most universal symbol of connection, of bringing people together and overcoming anything that may seperate us. I want to present to you pictures of bridges that I really love in places that I really love on my blog every Sunday. If you have a picture of a bridge that you would like to share with my readers as a guest post, feel free to contact me!

On Solo Travel and the Benefits of Being Selfish

Juli 2, 2013 / bruecken_schlag / 22 Kommentare

Many bloggers have written their pieces on why they travel solo. Blogs by „solo female travellers“ have come to form a whole niche of its own. I guess I am part of that category, although I never much perceived myself as such. I would hope my blog’s selling points are mainly its focus on Eastern Europe and my writing style – not the fact that I travel solo or that I happen to be a woman. Regardless of this, I will share my thoughts on discovering the world on my own, why I love it and what it has given me. Because it has truly made me a better person.

My five month trip to Central Eastern Europe and the Balkans in 2010 started off by a conversation with my sister that went like this:

Me: I’d love to travel after my Master’s…
Her: Why don’t you?
Me: Well no one wants to go where I want to go, no one wants to go to Eastern Europe. I don’t have anyone who would come with!
Her: Why don’t you go on your own?

At this point I had a whole speech in my head within split seconds that offered a gazillion reasons of why that was completely impossible. I never delivered it. Instead I said:

You’re right. I should go alone!

And henceforth, I never wanted a travel partner. I wanted to do this all on my own. Because I could. And I did.

On that trip, my first station in a new country was Budapest in Hungary. I remember getting off the train at Keleti Station, looking around and wanting to take in everything that I saw. I remember distinctly how sunlight fell onto people and trains, and I remember how much I loved the fact that old men were playing chess in the rail heads.

Most places that I arrived at – in fact most places I have visited at all – in someone else’s company have not left such a vivid imprint on my soul. Later that day I sat by the synagogue, and next to me a group of eight German girls were discussing their next move. Every single one of them wanted to do something different – have lunch. Go shopping. See a museum. Have lunch, but at a different place. Their fussy discussion and indecisiveness annoyed me. Not enough to spoil my mood, but enough to thank God for being on my own. I loved it from the first second.

Travelling solo, essentially, is a very selfish act. In many ways it erases necessity of consideration, compassion, compromise. My solo trip was all about me. Does that sound horrible? I think it should not. I think this great focus on myself allowed me to be the best possible version of myself.

For the first time in years, I listened to my inner voices. I got re-acquainted – or should I just say acquainted at all? – with my physical and mental needs. When I felt exhausted, I stopped. When I felt energetic, I moved on. Every new place I came to, I had the opportunity of liking or disliking it by my very own standards. I did not feel forced to like a place just because everyone marvelled at it, or hate a place because the guide book made it out to be less than perfect. I just listened intently to what was going on inside of me. The more I listened, the better I could hear my inner voices and the more I came to terms with them. I had so much time to spend with myself that I got to points when all the thoughts were thought, when a gigantic silence filled me whole and I managed to live and exist completely in the moment. Those may have been my happiest moments.

This is also why I hardly ever felt lonely on that trip. I was alone a lot, but it did me nothing but good – and loneliness, to me, is a forced, involuntary state that I connect with feeling left out and unloved. Being alone, on the other hand, is about finding yourself and learning how to be your own good company. I have written about this when I discussed bravery in travel.

I think some people manage to be in perfect balance with themselves with someone else around. For me that has always been very hard to do. Solo travel has taught me how it feels to be in balance with myself, to have come to terms with myself, to be okay with myself. It is not only something that I still benefit from in my daily life and of course in my travels. I think it is also something that my friends, family and travel buddies benefit from. Not to say that I manage it every day – but I have been there, and that means that I can get there again. If necessary, I will just throw in a quick solo trip somewhere. I know that it will do the trick.

Solo travel might not be or everyone, and it might not be the ultimate and only travel mode – because no such thing exists. I don’t think I will want to travel solo to the end of my days. I mentioned recently how discovering a place together with someone else was a new, exciting and beautiful experience for me. In my personal case, though, I had to go through being alone with myself, I had to go solo, before I could truly come to appreciate the company without losing myself. It was never about loneliness. It was always about self-discovery and personal development – as will be the case when I give up solo travel and go to places with someone else.

What do you think? Do you travel solo, with a partner or with friends? Do you think there is a difference between being alone and being lonely?

Legion Bridge in Prague, Czech Republic

Juni 30, 2013 / bruecken_schlag / Kommentare deaktiviert

What bridge do you think about when you think about Prague? Karlův most, Charles Bridge, certainly. Today I chose to show you its lesser known neighbour, Most Legií, or the Bridge of Legions, which is just as much worth noticing!

Legion Bridge crosses Vltava River south of the Castle Hill, and you have a stunning view of it when you stand on the bridge. But I like the bridge especially for its style. Finished in 1901, I find it to be decisively art nouveau, especially the arches lined with stones in almost black and white. I read that it is also neo-baroque. Now I don’t know enough about art history to explain where that comes in, but I find the bridge to combine a certain aesthetic severity and playfulness. Now that is a wide gap to bridge, and it’s done beautifully here.

I was in Prague six years ago and it recently crossed my mind again as one of those places that I really need to go back to, because when I went, frankly, I did not yet know how to travel. I don’t think I saw half as much as I would today. When I realized that, I came to think about what a different person I was back then and what a strange thing time is. And I thought about all the places I have yet to discover and rediscover, and all the things I have seen and haven’t written about yet. I’m grateful that this world will never cease to provide me with inspiration – if nothing else is, that much at least is certain.

If you have read My Mission statement, you know why I love bridges. To me they are the most universal symbol of connection, of bringing people together and overcoming anything that may seperate us. I want to present to you pictures of bridges that I really love in places that I really love on my blog every Sunday. If you have a picture of a bridge that you would like to share with my readers as a guest post, feel free to contact me!

To Nottingham’s Posher Places – the Park Estate

Juni 25, 2013 / bruecken_schlag / 8 Kommentare

As Andrew and I walk from Mapperley to the city center on my second day in Nottingham, the sun is coming out, and the clouds are sailing away solemnly in the sky. This is most certainly not your typical „English weather“, this is a lovely early summer’s day. We walk past the castle and into what is called the Park Estate. Built in such close proximity of the castle, it must have been built on what used to be immediate castle grounds.

The Park Estate is a private residential area with beautiful Victorian architecture. The houses here are not houses. They are mansions. I don’t think people here qualify as wealthy anymore, they are probably filthy rich. There are only three entrance gates, and it feels very secluded – but in the sense that is a bit terrifying. I don’t think a lot of protection increases the feeling of security; on the contrary, I think it takes away from it.

I am strangely reminded of the one day I have ever spent in Ciudad Juarez in Mexico, going there from Texas. My host father took me to see a protected estate where the upper class lived – just on a drive through, but I didn’t fail to notice that there was barbed wire on top of the white wall that surrounded the area with its houses of unreal dimensions. Quickly I call myself to order as I feel uncomfortable with that comparison. A gap between rich and poor as big as in South America – here in Europe? Impossible. Or is it? Honestly, gaps in society are probably much more of a reality than most of us in Western Europe care to admit.

But it is easy to forget about injustice on a day like this. The area is open to the public today for what is called the Park Garden Trail – meaning some of the gorgeous Victorian style gardens can be visited, and in the circus in the middle they sell food and drinks, and a band is playing with what we quickly identify as the least enthusiastic drummer in the world’s history. But as we sit on the grass in the sun and sip our wine, that doesn’t take away from the beauty of the day.

The first garden we enter has a high fir hedge and designer wedding dresses on display. I wonder if people will throw me out if they hear my American accent. Honestly I don’t think I would even be surprised if someone along the lines of Maggie Smith, the way she looks in Downton Abbey, would call me words like „ghastly“ and „common“ and tell me to leave. The second one is much more up my alley. It has a few cute terraces with shrubberies and a beautiful house (have I mentioned that they are all red brick stone…? So much love for Nottingham for all its red brick stone!). Then there is one where they sell scones. People are sitting at tables or on the grass with trays that hold delicate china and sip their tea. It cannot possibly get more quintessentially English than this.

All of the gardens are full of people out and about, enjoying the sunny weather and the beautiful flowers. Yellow roses are blossoming, reminding me of the BBC film North and South where they play a plot vital role.

Again with the romanticizing England because of costume dramas… I blame Jane Austen. The architecture doesn’t stop its charms at the red brick stone being interfused with glazed ones to form ornaments – there are little pillars and statues, and gorgeous coloured windowpanes, jutties and balconies.

Forgetmenots are blossoming all around in most of the places we see. I pluck one to put it into Andrew’s button hole. He looks at it and says: „Look how the three blossoms all have a different colour in the middle!“ I look at it and it’s true – one is white, one is dark yellow and one is pale yellow.

I am thinking that this must be why people love travelling with other people – because they point out stuff that you wouldn’t have seen yourself. Then I notice that this is not travelling in its strictest sense, because we are in Andrew’s home town. This is basically just good old regular sharing your life. And I get very excited at that thought.

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