bruecken_schlag_worte

Brückenschläge und Schlagworte

Schlagwort: winter

Sopot on a Winter Day

Sopot. I first got to know it by its German name Zoppot which sounds so much harsher and less accessible than the soft-sounding, sinuous Polish equivalent. Thinking about the place has come to evoke pictures in my mind of when it was a German spa town and people would come here to enjoy their summer retreat, or as the German old-fashioned expression goes: Sommerfrische, a word I love and that translates to summer freshness. I blame that on the beautiful books I have read that are set here and that paint pictures of a distant past that are coloured in the soft tones of patina.

Baltic, Sopot, PolandI have never been to Sopot on a hot summer’s day when the pier costs an entrance fee and the beach must be overcrowded with tourists. My personal associations with the town are not ones of summer freshness. I have, however, been here in the winter. So far most of my visits were accompanied not only by great cold, but also by grey skies. I always liked it anyway because I love the Baltic in all its shades of grey. But the last walk I took through Sopot on this crisp winter day was special. And I will try and share some of my impressions with you.

I walk around the last house that seperates me from the open view ontop the sea, and as I pass the corner, my heart jumps, as it does when I see the Baltic – my favourite sea.

Baltic, Sopot, PolandWhen I finally set foot onto the beach, I can hardly see anything because I am blinded by bright sunlight, mirrored by the snow that has covered the sand in a pocketed white blanket. Wind is making my eyes tear up, and the cold is crawling into my sleeves as I take off the glove and reach for my camera.

I make my way toward the Sopot pier, the longest wooden pier in Europe with its old fashioned ambience. It invites for strolling, dandering, sauntering. If only it wasn’t around -16 degrees today.

Pier, Sopot, PolandLooking North toward Gdynia, the water is smooth as glass and reflects every soaring seagull, every ray of sunlight. To the South, toward Gdansk, the is greyer and less calm. The thick wooden stilts the carry the pier are entirely frozen over with a dense icy coat that produces funny looking outgrowth. They look like mammoth legs.

Pier, Sopot, PolandThe day is blue and white. I cannot even fathom what it could be like in the summer. The idea of green doesn’t seem to fit. This place belongs in the clear and transparent colours of winter. Even the clouds play along with it. Big and white, with silver-grey linings, they collect just above the horizon as though they wanted to cushion the bright blue skies. Looking left and right, the Baltic has frozen over, and a thick layer of snow grazes the ice. Poeple are walking on it.

Snowed in Baltic, Sopot, Poland Snowed in Baltic, Sopot, PolandIt looks a little bit like the froth that waves make. In the original fairytale of the Little Mermaid, when mermaids die, they lose their soul and become froth on the sea. Such a melancholy thought. The little mermaid herself gains immortality for her undying love and joins the spirits of the air. I am sure she is around somewhere.

Walking along the beach it looks surreal how at times it is the sand covering drifts of snow, then again it is snow that overcasts the sandy beach. Different animal tracks can be seen on the untouched surfaces, mainly birds‘. The bare branches are dark and dead against the intense winter colours, but there is life all around, if only it doesn’t always show itself openly.

Beach, Sopot, Poland Beach, Sopot, PolandWhen dusk is setting, the light changes. The colours grow warmer, but the temperature goes colder yet again. Little flakes of ice are in my scarf just below my mouth – from breathing. The light fades, but the beauty is increasing. I find an abandonded boat on the beach. The sight of it sets free all the longing, all the craving, all the wanderlust I carry in my heart year round.

Beach, Sopot, PolandOnce more, I walk down the pier. Because I can. And because as heartfelt absolutely certain as I am that I am going to come back, as much does it pain me to say good bye. Every time. I walk the pier to the very end. On the ice cover in the marina, there is slight, weird movement. I only see it at second glance: The seagulls. They have cuddled up in a huge swarm and sit on the ice in a huge crowd, warming one another. It looks beautiful, a symbol of „united we stand“, of „together we are strong“.

Seagulls, Sopot, PolandThen, something seems to have disturbed them in their corner as suddenly they rise as one into the air. So many individual animals, yet moving in one swift movement, together, forming one body, and setting again as a breathing living cover onto the ice, onto the sea.

Seagulls, Sopot, Poland If this isn’t all too symbolic of my yearning for travel, my craving for flying and still having a home to come back to, of my wish to be myself in all my individuality and still have attachments to others, I don’t know what would be.

Bridge across Steinlach in Tübingen, Germany

When I started Bridges on Sundays round about a year ago, I thought my photo archive was infinite. Now I am starting to realize that I should have started collecting bridges much sooner and much more excessively. But I still have a few up my sleeve, like this nearly forgotten gem.  Steinlachbrücke, Tübingen, GermanyThis is Tübingen, the town where I went to gradschool. I posted the most well-known bridge in town for you a while ago, but this one is actually much closer to my heart. I used to cross it by bike on my way from home to uni. The little river is not the Neckar that famously runs through Tübingen, but the Steinlach, a little affluent only 25km in length. When I needed to get away from everything, I used to take walks along its banks.

The view across the bridge onto the hillside that Tübingen is set against almost makes me feel a sense of home, although I always kept the town at a bit of a distance. That house on top of the hill that looks a bit like a medieval castle is a frat house – fraternities in Germany have a very specific tradition and history, so it may not be what my English speaking readers associate (except if you associate lots of alcohol, you are most probably right!). In this specific case, the house has been property of the fraternity for more than a hundred years. Sometimes it is easy to imagine student life in Tübingen in the 19th century. It really is a quite romantic little town.

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!

Old Bridge in Heidelberg, Germany

This was a completely unexpected find in the mess that is my photo archive. I had completely forgotten about it.  Old Bridge, Heidelberg, GermanyAlmost two years ago, I went for an interview for a scholarship in Heidelberg. It was a bit of a crazy trip for just one day from Berlin, and I didn’t get to see much of the famous city with its romantic castle ruins and gorgeous old town – but I did go down to the Neckar river to see this beauty of a bridge.

Its official name is Karl-Theodor-Brücke, but it is most commonly referred to as Alte Brücke, the Old Bridge. It’s a baroque bridge, but it reminds me architecturally of the medieval Ottoman bridges in the Balkans, like the one in Visegrad in Bosnia and Hercegovina – only the material, the red sandstone found in the Neckar valley, makes it stand out. The barren trees reaching into this shot gave it an eerie feel that I remember quite liking, but I also would love to come back and see it in the summer when everything must be green and ever so much more picturesque. But Heidelberg in the warmer months is surely flooded with tourists, so this winter flair held its own charm for me.

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!

First times and the Magic of Advent

My cousin recently posted a meme on facebook that read

„When was the last time you did something for the first time?“

I had to think fast, and yet I couldn’t really come up with a good answer, and that made me rather sad.

When we are kids, first times present themselves constantly. As we grow older, there are fewer opportunities for them. Partially because we have already done so much, but also because in our daily life and routine, we seek them out far too seldomly. Aside from seeing all the places on my Bucket List (and more) – what about my everyday life? Where’s the new, the unknown? It’s not like there aren’t things I’d like to do for the first time. I have never had absinthe. Or Haggis. Or snails. I have never done kite surfing. Or rock climbing. Or swing dancing. And there is bound to be more. I should really try to keep in mind that every day may grant me the opportunity to do or try something for the first time.

AdventskranzI think that the magic of first times is what we celebrate in Germany when we celebrate Advent. The number of first times, even if just for that specific year, increases dramatically in December.

There is the first of advent (which is today!), the fourth Sunday before Christmas Eve, when the first candle on the advent wreath is lit. The wreath holds four candles, one more will be lit each Sunday until Christmas. Christmas isn’t coming without and advent wreath or fir sprigs that hold all the little decorations I have found in my advent calendar over the years.

AdventskalenderThe advent calendar of course is most exciting, most special on the 1st of December. It consists of 24 little surprises, one for each day between December 1st and 24th. Mine is an embroidered beauty of the 26 letters of the alphabet, all formed by little Santas, surrounded by tiny packages that hold chocolates. It took my mom 6 hours to finish each letter when she handmade the calendar. She really must love me. But then again, for what by now must be 15 years I stand before the filled advent calendar every year on December 1st and am overcome by a childlike excitement and joy, and I know that Christmas is coming, and for some reason, that means that all will be well.

This year, December 1st and first of advent were both in one weekend. And that wasn’t all. This weekend also had the first snow – huge snowflakes in a graceful dance outside my window, covering the yard in a thin sugar coat that makes the grey and dull sight so much prettier. Unfortunately in Berlin, more often than not, snow melts right away. The city’s steaming body gets to it too fast. Still there’s magic in snowfall.

I also went to the Christmas Market for the first time this year and had mulled wine (now it wasn’t the first mulled wine of the season, but mulled wine is just too delicious to wait for it until December every year!). Weihnachtsmarktzauber at Gendarmenmarkt may be the prettiest of Berlin’s more central Christmas Markets. The white tents with the large Moravian stars on top of them are bustling with people of all ages. Some of them sell delicious Christmas Market specific food, like roasted chestnuts and sugar roasted almonds. In others they sell handicrafts, usually very pretty, but really expensive. Christmas Carols are played as well. Lately „Winter Wonderland“ and „Let it snow“ have driven out the more traditional German songs, but let’s face it: You can’t be sure that Christmas is coming until you’ve heard Wham’s „Last Christmas“ on the radio for the *first time* that year anyway, so you may as well make your peace with the fact that English Christmas Carols are saying that the holidays are coming just as much as German ones.

Weihnachtszauber Gendarmenmarkt

Oh Christmas Tree

Even though all these Christmas related things are „first times this year“, not „first times“, they remind me of the beauty of a new start and of the fact that I should treasure *first times* and try to make them happen more frequently.

By the way, I did come up with a very first time after I read my cousin’s meme. I had a dream that was entirely in Polish for the first time when I was last in Gdańsk. The realization of it made me feel giddy and exhilerated. Blessed with the new and unknown, with the excitement of discovery. What a feeling!