Western Europe – Seite 2 – bruecken_schlag

Schlagwort: Western Europe (Seite 2 von 5)

Bizarre in Brussels – Random Findings

Dezember 17, 2013 / bruecken_schlag / Kommentare deaktiviert

Last week, I let you in on how Brussels swept me away with its enchanting architecture and the beauty of some of its main landmarks, the Grand Place and the Cathedral. Today I want to show you another side of the Belgian capital. One thing that all the guide books point out about Belgium is that it is a bit weird – in the good sense of the word. It is that sense for the grotesque, absurde, bizarre that makes Belgium what it is. The most cited example for this is Manneken Pis – the statue of the little boy peeing that is perceived as the iconic symbol for Belgium: small, weird, and leaving you with a slight sense of „WTF?“ While I get that he’s funny, I thought there were a lot of things going on in Brussels that displayed the same thing, but did it with less of a hype around them, which is much more supportive to the nature of the sentiment itself.

It started when I was walking along Rue d’Arenberg, in the very city center, and came across this very cool sign:

Cinema Nova is Brussels‘ downtown non-profit cinema

Looking at it, I felt directly transported into a Tim Burton film. The different figures looked so alive, so full of character, and yet the cinema behind it did not seem to be very prominent or chic. The internet tells me it is a non-profit place, so I would expect a certain level of hipsterdom to be included, but who cares about that when it is so lovingly done. I felt like standing there and having quiet conversations with those little people in the sign for hours, finding out if they carried the character that they displayed on the outside and turning them into a children’s book. I didn’t, but really just because it was so cold that day.

I also fell in love with this dress:

Window Shopping in Saint Gilles – thanks to Jenny and Luise who let me know that the label’s name means „But where is the sun?“ I guess that is a question that has some validity in Brussels.

I would never wear this (apart from the fact that I probably couldn’t, even if I wanted to!), but I thought it was so individual and fun – and I am not a fashion victim. To tell you the truth, if anyone described an item of clothing to me as „fun“ I wouldn’t know what they meant. But this dress – and the ones to the side – were equally pretty and fun. I felt about the fashion at „Mais il est ou le soleil“ that, like many things in Brussels, it didn’t take itself too seriously while still keeping up a high standard.

Something a little more prone to show up in guide books, also very Belgian and a tad funky were the comic strip pictures randomly strewn about walls in the city.

I especially loved the one with the pillar. Very self-referential to draw an edifice on an edifice. The cultural studies nerd inside of me must have come out when I noticed this. In general those little pictures just added something cheerful to the sometimes stern and grey urbanity (because inspite of the architectural beauty I raved about last week, Brussels also has some seriously ugly corners – all part of the absurd mix that makes the place what it is!).

And what do you do in a place like this if you want to have a nice view over the city? No mountains close by (welcome to Northern Europe!). Not really a tower to climb either. Those two options would be too conventional anyway. No, in Brussels, you take the elevater to the tenth floor, that is the roof top, of Parking 58, a run down and dirty car park in the city center, close to the Metro station de Brouckere and just behind Place Saint-Catherine.

View from Parking 58 onto the Cathedral

View from Parking 58 onto Grand Place and the town hall

It is a bit strange to go up in the elevator that feels like it belonged in a museum and might just stop at any second – but the views are stunning indeed.

A place that absolutely amazed me – and in which I thought the amiable randomness of Brussels culminated – was the Flea Market at Jeu de Balle.

Jeu de Balle Flea Market, Brussels, Belgium

Jeu de Balle Flea Market which is on every day – beautiful chaos!

Berlin prides itself in having a flea market culture – but compared to this, Berlin’s markets are commercialized, capitalist shopping malls. Now this was a true flea market. I half expected to leave carrying those little parasites with me. It would have fit. There was anything and everything to buy at the stands, mostly old useless crap, but put together it felt like the entire world was spread out on those carpets and put itself on display in infinite beauty.

Who wouldn’t want a rusty yet charming candelabra like this in their flat? I adore it!

Look at those porcellaine ladies seductively, nay, lasciviously flinging their legs…

My last discovery was at the Christmas Market at Place Saint Catherine. My friend Stan had told me to go to see the carousel. To be honest I nearly skipped it. How interesting could that be? Turns out very! It wasn’t just any weird ride. It was a beautiful old-fashioned carousel with carefully created creatures on it, purposefully looking a bit morbid and run down, but ever so enchanting, with a beautiful nostalgic quality. Even the music that it played transported me about a hundred years back in time, and watching the children ride it with such enthusiasm and pure joy was a true gift on that cold winter day.

Brussels was definitely wonderfully weird in addition to being pleasingly pretty. It had so many surprises ready for me, and I loved its slight randomness and the quirky little things that were to discover everywhere. I am sure there must be tons more of them. I have a feeling that this wasn’t my last trip to Belgium.

Did Belgium surprise you with anything bizarre, wacky, absurd or funny? Have you made random discoveries like mine in any other place? Tell us about it in the comments!

Bridge at Klein Kasteeltje in Brussels, Belgium

Dezember 15, 2013 / bruecken_schlag / 1 Kommentar

This is the first time I really went out of my way in a city to see a bridge – I have gone to cities specifically for the purpose of seeing a bridge (Visegrad, most notably!), but I haven’t made a huge effort inside of a city I went to anyway. Bridges usually just came to me – but not this one. After all, Brussels is not at all centered around water. But there is the Charleroi-Brussels Canal, and it does have a few bridges. There is one a bit to the South of this one that looks exactly the same. I can’t find either of them to have a name, but I very much like the view across the canal into the red brick Klein Kasteeltje. If I understand the Dutch wikipedia article on it correctly, this used to be a casern, then was a jail for prisoners of war after World War II, and today is a home for asylum seekers – what a crazed history for a building.

On my way around Brussels I have slowly made my way towards the canal. I am in no hurry, I’ve got time on my hands, and while it is cold, it is a beautiful day. So many people are out and about frequenting the Christmas Market, and I have time to linger and look at all the things I happen to find noticeable – the comic strips drawn on house walls, or the glass stained windows of churches, or the bilingual street signs. I have enough peace and time and quiet for thoughts to surface that are completely random. That is what travel does to you, and I notice once more that lonesome strolls taken in foreign cities are vital for my well-being.

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!

A Belgian Revelation – Brussels‘ Architecture

Dezember 10, 2013 / bruecken_schlag / 16 Kommentare

Brussels came to me as a shock. Why is that? Because I didn’t expect anything. Certainly not anything outstandingly beautiful. But boy, was I wrong! I must admit that this part of Central Western Europe is a bit of a mystery to me. Belgium, the Netherlands and Luxembourg are blind spots on my map so far. Brussels thus had all the more of a chance to sweep me off my feet, and it took it.

View from Parking 58 in Brussels. An amazing 360 degrees round view completely for free!

Being in town for work, I didn’t have an infinite amount of time on my hands; but it was more than I have had in a while. Not only did I discover an unknown place, I also spent some much needed quality me-time. I didn’t have an agenda, but I just walked through the streets lined with beautiful buildings and took in what I came across. It did help that my first night in town I met up with friends who had couchsurfed with me in Berlin a while back and who gave me much appreciated insiders‘ advice.

Apart from the food (the waffles, the chocolate, the fries and the geuze beer were seriously amazing!), it was most definitely the architecture that had me quietly rejoice on my walks through the city. The first place I went to was Grand Place, or Grote Markt in Dutch, and I swear, my heart skipped a beat as I emerged from one of the small alleyways around it to find myself surrounded by sublimity.

The Brussels Town Hall – so delicate with its ornaments, and can you believe it is around 600 years old?

Grand Place doesn’t just have the big and memorable buildings, but every single small house in it is amazing! No wonder it’s a UNESCO world heritage sight!

Unfortunately, my first day in Brussels was so cold that I couldn’t spend as much time in Grand Place as I would have liked. Instead I went for some hot chocolate and a waffle (heaven!) before I made my way to the Cathedral. I don’t know France very well, but I felt that the Cathedral was proof of closer proximity to it. I spent about an hour inside marvelling at the glass stained windows and watching art students draw the pillars and ornamental details – and again, if it wasn’t for the cold, I would have lingered much longer at the square in front of it that so majestically led up to the church.

Brussels Cathedral

After the cool stillness and the white of the cathedral, the houses that could be found in any random street were all the more so colourful and enchanting! Be they combining white and red brick stone to an elegant whole or be they keeping their rough exterior resembling granaries, with jutties, counterforts and beautiful doors and windows. I could not get enough of it.

One of the most interesting corners was in the Marollen quarter where there are five tiny streets lined with social housing that are architecturally remarkable. I wish they built stuff like this in Berlin instead of lining up the gazillionth house full of lofts that no normal person can pay rent for. The flats had large balconies and the small streets they were lining were quiet and peaceful.

What I like most, however, is the sheer infinite number of beautiful small buildings in the streets outside of the city center. Very often they are in Art Nouveau style and display pretty little ornament or an unexpected glass stained window in their staircase. They come in all shapes and sizes, and they are everywhere, not just in the touristy streets around Grand Place where the crowds gather and take fries to go. As I stroll through those residential areas that are filled with these absolute gems, it is easy to imagine living here. Granted the areas that have them feel quite gentrified, but what can I say, I am not immune to hipsterdom.

As is the case so often, places are easiest to like when you don’t expect to find anything amazing in them. Brussels was unexpectedly easy on the eyes. I think it may be the most underrated city I have visited in Western Europe.

Have you been to Brussels? What did you think when you first saw it? What is your favourite architectural gem you discovered there?

Thielenbrücke in Berlin, Germany

Dezember 8, 2013 / bruecken_schlag / 1 Kommentar

From the big wide world last Sunday, I am coming back home to Berlin with my bridge today, and to one of the golden autumn days of September.

This is Thielenbrücke, Thielen Bridge, named after a Prussian Secretary of State for Employment in the 19th century. It crosses the Landwehr Canal between the districts of Neukölln and Kreuzberg.

I do love the canal. I love it for walks in the spring, for long nights in the summer on its banks with friends and too many beers, for the trees that line it colourfully in the fall and for its bridges that I rush over in the bitter cold of winter. Thielenbrücke is not outrageously exciting, it’s covered in graffiti, and probably most Berliners aren’t quite aware that it exists. But it’s been around for nearly a hundred years and it’s a part of the city’s history, which is always so inconspicuously strewn about here. In this photo, the juicy green grass, the yellow tree leaves and the playful light on the water make for a very typical Kreuzkölln autumn atmosphere. I know winter has only just started, but I’m already excited for the warmer seasons in Berlin to come around again.

A Walk Along the Atlantic

November 28, 2013 / bruecken_schlag / 4 Kommentare

Before our trip to Porto, Julia and I make one wish each: She wants to ride the tram, and I want to see the Atlantic Ocean. We are thrilled to find out that you can perfectly combine the two and take the little vintage tram out to the shore of the ocean. During the ride a young gay couple sits across from us. Love radiates from them, they give off the impression that either they haven’t been dating long or they don’t see each other very often. The are so affectionate with each other, and whenever my look grazes theirs, they smile wide smiles at me. It is beautiful to be in the presence of love.

From the tram stop we have to walk along the mouth of River Douro for a bit before we reach the open water. Looking back to Porto, Arrábida Bridge shows its white arc in the distance.

Mouth of River Douro and Arrábida Bridge in the distance

There is a small alley of palm trees, and if it wasn’t autmnally chilly, this would feel like the Carribean (which I am fairly sure it does in summer!). We shoot a couple of pictures of each other. I have to say I am quite enjoying this – one of the perks of not travelling solo is that I actually get to be in pictures that are not selfies and show some of the scenery around.

Mariella at the mouth of River Douro, Porto, Portugal

I’m trying to play the siren here, can you tell?

Only a short walk later we get to the pier which we walk along with lots of other weekend strollers. A lot of the tourists here speak Spanish, and all of a sudden that language that I have always found beautiful and passionate sounds harsh and loud in comparison to Portuguese. There are wave-breakers, and if you wait long enough, the water will crush upon them, breaking the wave quite literally into an explosion of white froth.

That is froth if ever I saw any!

What is even more amazing is that once the white, manifest-looking water retracts, the most intense rainbows are on display in front of the view of the shoreline.

I wish I would have pressed the button a tad sooner, I would have captured both the froth AND the rainbow!

I could stand and watch the beauty of this forever, the infinite shapes that come up with the water, the amazing sounds of the mighty waves crushing onto the rocks and spraying up in spume. Julia and I sit down in the sun across from the water spectacle. But soon our eyes start wandering toward the horizon, and the eternal width of the ocean. I have seen the Atlantic, but only from the other side, from Florida, when I was 16. It is weird that back then I was looking in the direction of where I am now, while now I am looking in the direction of where I was then. Did I try and look to the future, to my 29 year old self back then, and am I looking back to find 16 year old me today?

Julia and I sit there for quite a long time before we get moving. It is surprisingly warm by the water, almost no wind, and the sun is shining almost hotly down on us. We go and look for a beachside coffee place, and after having had coffee, we are still warm enough to feel in the mood for some Sangria.

It might not be as authentic as Port wine (which we had as well, don’t worry) – but it sure looks pretty!!

As it goes in this city, as soon as the sun starts to go down, the cold comes promptly, abruptly. We need to get moving, and we start to make our way back towards the river – not without having caught a gorgeous view of the sunset from our coffee place. It is impossible to tell from the pictures, but the clouds have silver linings. I explain to Julia about that saying, and I become aware that I have never seen it illustrated in the sky so clearly as today. I feel like this might have some hidden significance to me. Yes, the clouds that darken my life from time to time, they have their silver linings too.

Sunset with silver lined clouds

We walk past the tram stop, we have decided to walk back into town. Every now and then we turn around to face the sunset, and the sky turning that amazing orange, red and lilac colour. The black sillhouettes of boats look so romantic against the sky in all its colourful glory. I think I am going to really like this town.

Boat silhouettes and colour explosions

Have you ever seen the Atlantic Ocean? Do you like it best or is another ocean your favourite?

Ponte Luís I in Porto, Portugal

November 24, 2013 / bruecken_schlag / 2 Kommentare

It has been quiet on the blog this week because my decadent three day get-away to Porto left me with a lot of work to catch up on. But I am happy to present you today with one of the beauties I found while fuelling up on sun and energy in Portugal’s sun. This is the Bridge of Luís I, king of Portugal between 1861 and 1889. While Portuguese kings are usually referred to by the title „Dom“ and the bridge should be called “ Ponte Dom Luis I“, our tour guide told us that rumour has it the „Dom“ was dropped when the king didn’t show up for the opening of the bridge in 1886. Spiteful! If you think that the metal structure seems familiar, you probably associate it with the Eiffel Tower – and yes, Gustave Eiffel did do some work on bridges in Porto. Just not this one. This is his partner Téophile Seyrig’s work who is often not given credit because Eiffel is just the more glamorous and well-known name.

I am fairly certain that I will have to put up more pictures of this stunning bridge because I took about 50 of it. I find it fascinating how the metro goes over the top and cars go over the lower level, and how the bridge connects once more not only two river banks, but two different cities. What you see on the other side is not Porto anymore, but Vila Nova de Gaia. I love the majestic gate that carries the bridge’s name, and the filigree of the steel structure. And this isn’t even the only beautiful bridge over the river Douro in Porto. It certainly was the city for me in that respect.

If you have readMy 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!

Early Morning Rome – The Colours of the Eternal City

Oktober 29, 2013 / bruecken_schlag / 6 Kommentare

Four years ago, in 2009, I spent four days in the Eternal City with the family I had lived with in the US for a year when I was 16. It was simply an amazing city trip. My host father had organized tours of all the major sights, we had all the delicious food (oh! the gelato!!) and the weather was perfect. What meant by far the most to me, however, was having time with my second family. Even though I only spent a fraction of my life with them, they do feel like my dad, my mom, and my little sisters. I am blessed to have not one, but two families in this world who I love and who support me so much.

In the light of this, I was soaking up the company of the people I love and don’t nearly see often enough so much that my heart couldn’t even take in all of Rome. On my last day, my host family left around 6 am to catch their plane. I got up with them and decided to re-visit the places we had been to during the last few days, but this time in the early morning hours – without the masses of tourists and the burning August heat of the day.

The light of dawn slowly turning into day accompanied me on my walk from Vatican City, via Piazza Navona with its beautiful renaissance fountains, to the Piazza della Rotonda with the Pantheon. The colours were simultaneously intense and almost muted – a weird twilight state, hard to describe. I took many opportunities to just sit down anywhere – on the pavement, if need be – and just note down my thoughts in my journal. I will quote from it below.

I have a thing for inscriptions, or any kind of writing on the wall (pun absolutely intended). I call them word sights. This one is a quote from the Bible in the Vatican City wall. How could religion not be omnipresent where Vatican City is? I was thrilled to remember my Latin well enough to understand it right away. This is Psalm 91, 11 – „For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways.“ I was grateful that this inscription made me feel protected in this moment, because just a second earlier I had felt a tiny pang of loneliness after the last few days that had been spent in constant company. Vatican City was incredible at 7 in the morning. I remember sitting and looking at the ginormous basilica for a very long time, marvelling in the light effects the sun created. My journal says:

I am sitting in St Peter’s Square, the place that impressed me so deeply when I set foot in it for the first time on Saturday. It still reverberates in me – the presence of an unearthly power. Is it Love? Is it Beauty? Is it God? Does it really matter what we call it?

I pondered deeply on religion sitting there, and the difference between faith, religion and the church. I won’t bore you with all my babble on it. But I do think that no matter if you believe or not, no matter if you even care about religion, no matter your confession – having seen Vatican City will make you see things about it that you haven’t seen before.

On I went through the sometimes small and narrow, sometimes broader streets. One thing I regret is not having taken any pictures of bridges across the Tiber river – but I wasn’t the Bridgekeeper back then. All the more reason for me to go back, I am sure. I reached Piazza Navona still deeply in thoughts.

The beauty of the Renaissance fountains was so perfect, so aesthetically impeccable that it was hard for me to believe it was not some kind of trick. The enormous dimensions of everything in this city extended to the beauty. It was unreal. Next to me street musicians played jazz classics in a group of a cello, a guitar, an accordion and a saxophone. Their style turned everything slightly latino-pop, and it added greatly to the relaxed morning atmosphere. My last stop before I had to make my way to the airport to fly back to Germany was Piazza della Rotonda where I took a look at the Pantheon. I loved the deep orange and red colours of the houses in the square. They contrasted harshly with the white marble of the Pantheon – The temple for all the Gods, as the name tells us. An ancient Roman temple converted into a church.

My journal says:

Beautiful and horrible: How vehemently Christianity takes possession of everything. Beautiful, because it creates an impressive case of interculturality. Horrible, because the Christian church thus makes a claim for power that might be deeply un-Christian.

Such were the ways that Rome inspired me to think. How is it that philosophising seems to come to me more easily when I am surrounded by beauty? In that sense, Rome made it very easy for me. I think I shall return, sleep during the day, and roam the streets between midnight and early morning every day.

Romantic Humility – Rügen’s Chalk Cliffs

Oktober 1, 2013 / bruecken_schlag / 4 Kommentare

There is a view of the Baltic Sea from the bedroom window. I wake up early and witness the sky growing slowly lighter and lighter. Only last night after our arrival, we took a walk down to the beach and sat in the fading light of the sunset, listening to the eternal sounds of waves crushing upon the rocks. Not violently or angrily though. The sound was just steady, calm, inviting even – inviting thoughts, feelings and musings to surface from the innermost depths of our beings.

We didn’t talk much. Now in the early morning haze of an in-between phase at the verge of sleep and wake, the misty morning appearing outside the window and Kap Arkona shining through dimly in the distance, this feeling of peace is still with me. And at the same time I am excited for the adventures of the day.

We want to walk from Lohme, the small village in Rügen’s Jasmund National Park, along the coast to the famous chalk cliff called Königsstuhl, King’s Chair. Anyone who likes art history and knows about romanticist painting may have heard of Caspar David Friedrich, a German painter from the nearby mainland town Greifswald (a place I truly love). The chalk cliffs in this area were among his most appreciated motives.

He painted them in beautiful romantic fashion, expressing the depth of human feeling, longing and the almost desperate will to live all facets of life, be they good or bad. At least this is what I see in his paintings – and I will be reminded of this romantic emotional overload walking in the beautiful coastal nature of the island of Rügen today.

We start out by the beach, but soon we are not sure how to follow the path, because there isn’t really one. Because of that, we make our way up through the forest to the upper part of the hiking trail. It is somewhat exhausting to ascend from the beach, but walking on the soft forest ground is less hard on the feet than walking on the pebbled beach was.

The forest is thick and green in its last bit of summer gear. Rays of sunshine fall through the tree crowns onto the mossy cover on the ground, like spot lights trying to point to something exciting. But there is just silence and, far beneath us, the growling of the sea.

Every now and then the forest will thin out toward the steep edge of the cliff, and beautiful views will open up in front of us. Andrew thinks that the Baltic seems like a finite sea, not as endless as others. He says he finds himself aware of the fact that there is land on the other side and half expects to see it somewhere in the distance. I remember that I felt the same way at the Black Sea, and that this was one of the reasons that I liked the Bulgarian coast – because it reminded me a bit of the Baltic.

In this moment, I don’t think past the horizon, though. I know that everything comes to an end, even the largest ocean, even the longest hour. But this moment is eternal to me.

At the Königsstuhl, we just take a quick glance at the impressive cliff with its peculiar shape.

Then we descend to the beach over 412 steps. Downward this might be okay, even though signs warn us everywhere that it will be a good work-out. Being an asthmatic, I am glad I don’t have to do it back up. We now walk all the way back to Lohme down at the beach.

This photo is courtesy of Andrew – that is me wandering off in the distance.

The sounds of pebbles under our feet. The occasional scream of a seagull, maybe. The wind. The waves. The colours of the pebbles are white, grey, black and occasionally red. The sea is blue and grey. So is the sky. The cliffs are bright white. Occasionally there is a fallen tree, dead. Sometimes a bit of green emerges. I feel thrown back to the very basics of my being. Unobtrusive colours and sounds that make up for lack of excitement in intensity. Everything feels huge. Loud and vast and wide.

My stone

There is one tree trunk packed with stones and pebbles that people must have left there as though it were a tombstone on a Jewish cemetery. Andrew picks up a medium sized rock, I choose a smaller pebble, and we place them in the midst of the collection. It looks like a beautiful work of art. I feel great at the thought that we have left our tiny man made sign in this place.

Andrew’s stone

Once again, I think of Caspar David Friedrich. His pictures show humans in the face of the vastness of the world, they teach us humility. I was right in anticipating the feeling of his art to come into my heart. I felt small and humble in the face of nature’s greatness today. For a great intro to the most famous painting of the chalk cliffs, check this youtube video.

Bridges in Nottingham, England

September 22, 2013 / bruecken_schlag / 4 Kommentare

Today I bring to you a bridge cluster, if you will. I am enjoying how in this picture the two very different bridges are at a right angle, leading up to each other, connecting not only two river banks, but also each other. When I visited Nottingham in June and Andrew took me back to the train station, we had a little bit of time to kill before my train left, so we ventured away from the station and found this spot. I don’t remember where exactly it was, just that the stone bridge and the modern steel one in combination with the red brick warehouse and the dodgy and dirty looking water reminded me of home, of Hamburg’s granary city and its feel of trade and hard work. How that is changing now the port city with its modern architecture and posh restaurants and bars is coming about there…

I have written about it before: Nottingham is not the prettiest or most enchanting city I have been to. But it had its very own and individual flair. In many ways I like the coolness and the distance with which the city met me. It was honest and down to earth. I took the picture in June, but it looks just like Berlin looks now in the autumn weather that I see when I look out of my window. It seems to be saying: „I don’t care if you think it’s summer. I’m doing whatever the hell I want.“ I wish I could be a little bit more like that sometimes.

I f 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!

Everybody’s Darlings – and Why I Don’t Usually Like Them

Juli 25, 2013 / bruecken_schlag / 12 Kommentare

I will now talk about places I have travelled to and did not actually like that much. This is something that doesn’t often happen on travel blogs, as Andrew recently pointed out to me. His words were something like: „Everybody always writes about places they like. No one ever says: ‚Don’t go there, it was horrible!‘ That can’t possibly be true.“ He’s got a point. Now I won’t tell you not to go anywhere, because everyone has to decide for themselves. But when you hear which places I do not like, you won’t believe me anyway.

There are these places in Europe everyone loves. When you mention them on a twitter chat, or at a hostel, or on your facebook page, or just randomly over dinner with travel-loving friends, the reaction will always be along the lines of: „Aaaah, I LOVED [insert place here]. It is so lovely in [insert season here]. I could totally live there, especially in [insert trendy neighbourhood in said city]. There is a place on [insert famous street here] that serves THE best [insert local food here].“

I have a confession to make: These places are usually the ones I am not so keen on.

Berlin sure is everybody’s darling, eh? I’m not debating this one.

Of course there is exceptions. After all, the city I live in, Berlin, tends to be in the list of said places. So do a couple of places that I have never been to, such as Paris, Barcelona, or Venice. While I do want to see these places at some point in my life, I am not all too fussed about them right now. I am sure they will be nice and all, but I’m just not feeling a great passionate urge to see them very soon. Because in the past, Everybody’s Darlings have not necessarily worked for me.

This especially goes for the three I am about to discuss now. I can already hear everyone screaming „Sacrilege!“ and „Impossible!“ and „How could she!“ Ah well. Please disabuse me of my notions in the comments. Here go the places in Europe that everyone seems to love except for me.

1. Prague, Czech Republic

There, I said it. I am not a huge fan of Prague. As is usually the case with things like these, I suppose the circumstances weren’t entirely in my favour. I went there as a weekend trip from my voluntary service in Poland with five other international volunteers. I was heartbroken at the time for several reasons and while I liked the group, I didn’t truly connect with the others as much as they did with each other, and they set much focus on the consumption of loads of beer while I wanted to see the city. Also the weather was quite chilly and grey that March of 2007.

Prague Astronomical Clock, Prague, Czech Republic

People dream of seeing the Prague Astronomical Clock in the Old Town Square. I was semi-impressed.

While all that made it difficult to enjoy being in the moment, I found the famous Old Town Square to be ridiculously overcrowded and the famous clock to fall short of my expectations. I also noticed I should have done more research – relying on my travel buddies had not been a good plan because they basically just wanted to go from beer to beer. Generally for some reason I couldn’t hear the music in my heart that I had expected to.

I think Prague was overladen with expectations from my side that it could not live up to. Because of that, this one is probably at least partially my fault. I am willing to give Prague another chance. It’s just not very high up my list right now.

Prague Castle is an admired and cherished place for many travellers.

2. Dubrovnik, Croatia

For most travellers who have been to Croatia, Dubrovnik has been one of their highlights. For me it was different. The first couple of times I went to Croatia, I didn’t even make it down there. I had planned on seeing it on my great trip through the Balkans and was always sidetracked by other places that struck me as more interesting – Bosnia, Montenegro, or even just the smaller places along the Dalmatian coast. I finally went to Dubrovnik on my way to the island of Korcula and stayed there for three days in late August 2011.

You think this is gorgeous? So do most people.

Bad circumstances to add to my dislike in this case: It was unbearbly hot. I had been travelling for 10 days and hadn’t found back into the rhythm of it, I probably should have started out with just some chill-time. And then I got ill and spend a considerable portion of my stay there between my hostel bed and the bathroom.

But all these things aside, there were many things about Dubrovnik that just weren’t down my alley. For one thing, I found it ridiculously overpriced by comparison to what else I knew of Croatia, and have been around that country rather much. I also found the street vendors to be particularly aggressive. There was a moment of peace when I stood in the market and smelled the lavender that people were selling. At once I was pressed from three men in English and Italian to buy some – and the moment was over. No one spoke Croatian, and in general I didn’t see why people were so much more taken with the small alleyways and red roof tops here than in any other Dalmatian town, like Makarska for example – I had visited that in the midst of high season and totally crowded, but I still liked it loads better than Dubrovnik. I think Dubrovnik doesn’t live up to the beauty other Croatian towns have to offer. It is overrated.

Cute alleyways in Dubrovnik – but hey, not any better or worse than those in Sibenik, Makarska, or Zadar.

3. Vienna, Austria

The last one on my list of only-okay travel destinations everyone else loves is the Austrian capital. I have been there twice each for a couple of days and while I suspect that if I hung out around more locals, I could have seen a different side of it, it all comes down to this: Vienna is too pristine for me.

Karlskirche is beautiful, sure – but I just feel it could be anywhere.

There are not even really any bad circumstances to this phenomenon – no connected bad memories of an emotional kind, no sickness, no weather issues. Vienna just doesn’t speak to me. It has this specific kind of beautiful that seems to me like the majority of the girls on Germany’s Next Top Model. Pretty on the outside, hollow on the inside. No edge, no character. Just this very neat, preppy, clean appearance. I never quite got behind it.

Now what probably didn’t help was that I had fallen in love with Krakow before I met Vienna. Now that Polish little sister of Vienna has the same Austro-Hungarian architecture and coffee house culture, the same turn-of-the-century morbidity and grand artistic tradition – but it is just ever so slightly more run down and truly old. I find it to be authentic. In Vienna I always feel like I wasn’t pretty enough. In Krakow I can be myself, out of style or out of fashion, and still love the city’s beauty and originality. Vienna is like a living room out of a magazine – pretty to look at, but who wants to live in the constant fear of spilling red wine on the white couch cushions. Against Krakow, it was bound to lose in my book.

Schönbrunn in Vienna – a fairytale kind of palace. I find it too clean.

I think all of this just proves how much about travel and discovery is about the chemistry between the traveller and the place, and how very much it is like falling in love. Some places – as some men – are perfect. But they’re just not for you.

What do you think? Do you disagree with me on my picks? Are there any places everyone loves that you don’t see anything in at all?

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