Tag: Europe

Germany, here we come!

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It took us 26 hours door to door. It’s a drag, but I don’t mind. All the shopping and eating you can do at the airport, all the reading and watching, talking and walking: all is good!

Munich is a nice airport to arrive: it is modern, bright, light, clean, everything works, everything makes sense. German efficiency. Kind of the opposite of the Frankfurt airport, which I would title: German inefficiency / what were they thinking? But that is another story and that’s why I try to avoid Frankfurt. So I booked a flight from San Luis Obispo to Los Angeles and from there directly to Munich. And we enjoyed every minute of it! We had great seats, lots of legroom, (relatively) good food, we had good talks, we watched good movies [OMG: “The Zone of Interest”. What a great movie about Germany’s worst time in history, written out of a perspective you’ve never seen before].

And then we arrived, had another hour car drive until we were at our final destination: the house I grew up in, where I spend my childhood, where I walked or biked to school from, where my sister and I shared a room in the attic, a room that took 7 years for my busy dad to finish. Up there it is very cold in the winter and brutally hot in the summer. I guess, I know that my parents didn’t have much money back then, so they must have saved money on insulation materials. But it was always like that, maybe that’s why I don’t like winter or wet, cold weather. Up there in the attic, the winter is inside, the wet, cold weather is crawling under your blanket and barely anything can keep you warm. Except the furnace and that is too small for the room. But here we are again! And every time I arrive I feel like arriving in my childhood again. I participate as if I never left. And today I baked bread…

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And that bread has a funny story: just before we left California I had asked my friend Kimberly if she could give me some of her sourdough, since mine had died. Sure, no problem, and since both our husbands wanted to meet for lunch that day, it was an easy transition to get her sourdough over to our house. Except that it was another hot day in Paso Robles, except that the marmalade jar that contained the sourdough was very full, except that Ted put this jar in his cargo pocket of his shorts, except that he and his friend went to wine tasting after lunch, until….. until Ted felt something crawling down the side of his leg. The leg closest to the cargo pocket with the sourdough jar. Can’t blame it: it was hot and it was bored inside! So the sourdough made it into the cargo pocket until that was full and out and down that sexy leg. Fortunately there was enough sourdough left to take to Germany. Inside a ziplock bag, that was inside another ziplock bag, that was inside a plastic drink bottle, that was inside a plastic bag, that was inside my suitcase. No leakage here, you just need to be professional! The sourdough survived and got to be transformed into this delicious bread! Not that we need to bake our own bread here in Germany because Germany is famous for having quite a few varieties. 3200 to be precise! The sourdough has to make it to Italy, that is known for pizza and pasta. Not for bread, especially not for dark, wholegrain, hearty, healthy bread. So I’ll bake my own. And that’s why I brought my sourdough – or whatever was left in Ted’s cargo pocket…..

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Angst / Fear

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I’m not afraid of flying. It’s not my favorite form of transportation, the check in and out, the hustle and bustles, all those people, etc. I just don’t enjoy it. The tight space inside the air plane, economy meaning child size seating and no legroom, nothing really appeals to me. And then the overhead space for carryon luggage: I stick to the rule to have one carryon. Sometimes it is a backpack, a basket, or a small rolling carryon suitcase. And that’s it. But I hate it when people show up with a carryon, a big shopper, and 3 huge paper bags from the @%# outlet stores where they needed to spent the last money they had left from vacation. And that’s when the overhead compartments get too small. And that’s when the stewardess gets involved, shifting things from A to B, then taking smaller bags / backpacks out to accommodate the outlet bags + suitcase + shopper combo. And that smaller backpack is usually mine, so I’m asked to put my bag underneath the seat in front of me, meaning I will not have any legroom for the entire flight as a punishment for somebody else overpacking. I’m not a complainer, but with a situation like that, I do complain, which is swept away in the hectic of boarding a plane and getting everybody and everything stuffed inside. They make me be the bad person, the complainer, although I was the one following the rules, but getting punished for it. So here you go, I’m not afraid of flying, I just don’t like it.

My carryon

Being afraid and having fear is a different story. Being afraid is more a general emotion, usually without a specific reason. You’re afraid of flying in general, because it might get bumpy. Having fear is more specific. Having fear for your life is connected to an incident. And that happened on my flight over from Europe to the US.

Halfway over the Atlantic, 3 hours away from the closest airport, a passenger decided to ignore the non-smoking sign and went to the bathroom, smoking inside. The sprinkler alarm went on, flooding the whole bathroom. And it didn’t stop. The bathroom was filled with water, over spilled into the cabin, etc. the stewardesses and stewards kept running back and forth, trying to take control. They even used those coffee pots they usually offer tea and coffee with to scoop up water, so here you go: don’t drink coffee or tea on an airplane! You never know what they used it before they made coffee for you….. This whole incident took ~45min before it was under control.

15 or 20 minutes later the pilot interrupted the entertainment program and gave a 5 min speech. I didn’t understand a single word, since it was in Spanish, but I paid attention because he sounded very serious, his voice trembling, almost as if he had cried. This was different, more serious than any pilot speech I ever heard. Everybody on the plane was listening, nobody said a word, people looked shocked. And I had fear. I didn’t know what it was about, I had no idea that it was connected to the smoker in the bathroom, I just was in a “shit, why did I never learn Spanish” state of mind. All different scenarios galloping through my brain, for example the murder/suicide in 2015, where a copilot locked the pilot out of the cabin and crashed the airplane into a hillside in southern France. All 150 people died. I had the flashback and thought that this will end up in a similar way, that our pilot is doing the same. Whom should I write a message now? How much time do we have? Why? That can’t be it! It took several minutes, that seemed like an hour or so, until another person tried to explain what had happened in broken English. Part of it I experienced first hand, sitting on the aisle seat 3 rows behind the restroom. The second part I tried to understand. Apparently the sprinkler system didn’t stop, therefore we were very close to an emergency landing 3 hours away from the next airport. Not a fun idea. The person smoking will be found and hit with a $2000 fine, on top of a criminal investigation, because their action risked the lives of a few hundred people.

But that flight wasn’t bad the entire time. I hadn’t realized that Air Europe was a cheap budget airline, not providing any food or drinks, not even on international flights. So I ended up very hungry and thirsty. On the airlines’ website I saw an option to preorder food, so I just gave it a try. Unfortunately the order didn’t go through, so I tried it again: a rice bowl and a water. Again, didn’t go through. Darn! The surprise came 5 minutes later in form of a tray, topped with a rice chicken mix, gazpacho, dessert, and a glass of water. Very impressive! And very tasty!!! I had just finished every bit of it, when the steward came back and told me that he accidentally gave me the tray that was meant to be given to another person, embarrassing! And I had thought this was my rice bowl with some water! Little did I know. Another stewardess came, telling me the same thing, trying to make me be more embarrassed! And then another steward stopped by and did the same thing: the classic guilt trip! So what should I do? Give it back??? How? My seat neighbor had a good laugh, I felt embarrassed but well fed. The steward came back and asked for my order confirmation (that I didn’t have), he came back another time to check how I actually had ordered and so on. At that point I joined my neighbor laughing. Just wait and I’ll give it back…..

Altmühltal (Bavaria)

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It’s a very easy recipe: a beautiful area (Altmühltal) + great company (my brother Jürgen) + a cute little convertible = a daytrip filled with fun, great talks, memories, connections! Very, VERY special!!!

We saw interesting buildings, for example a church built of willows. It was planted in 2009 and is growing since. We were lucky to watch a wedding ceremony there, just in time before the next rain shower!

We also saw a few interesting animals, some a few days old, others a few million years old:

Enjoying this beautiful day and exchanging stories from the time way back when we were little, which icecream we preferred, which games we played, etc. It’s always so much fun to spend time with Jürgen! And of course we had a stop at a cute little beergarden (the 13th apostle).

Soccer

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And then there was soccer and the German dream of another European championship. But it ended in a disappointing loss at the quarterfinals, which was – of course – questionable. What should have been called a penalty kick was not acknowledged, what should have been a win ended up with a loss, just a minute before overtime ended. Darn! What a disappointment!!! We were so close and the German summer dream ended prematurely…

Ok, the Spanish team wasn’t bad, they were mostly lucky. Lucky and skillful, but I just liked the Germans play, not giving up until the very end, with leg cramps and everything. But it is what it is – the German are going home….. well, they are already home because Germany is the host country. So the Germans are just staying where they are already!

47 C (116 F) vs 15 C (59 F) or heatwave vs German summer

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Germany in July: rubber boots would be a good idea. Or at least a rainproof jacket, insulated, an umbrella and don’t forget a scarf! Outdoor venues are closed, it is freezing f🥶ing cold! Yikes. I’m wearing underwear, socks, long pants, T-Shirt, Sweatshirt, layers and layers, and I’m still cold. I have an extra wool blanket on my bed and I’m cold, despite wearing a nightshirt!

Paso Robles, California on the other hand is dealing with a heat wave right now. 47 degrees Celsius (=116 F), that’s when the air flimmers and everything comes to a standstill. PG&E (Pacific Gas & Electric) are switching off the power, air conditions won’t work, your barbecue steaks in the freezer will defrost and there won’t be any ice cubes for your drinks. Americans like to drink everything with ice cubes. I mean, they have a little taste of something in their glasses filled with ice cubes and when they’re finished, half the glass of ice cubes will be thrown in the sink. Hard to understand when you grow up in Europe…

When I moved to the US 26 year ago, I always thought that everything will be the same, except the language, and since I learned English at school, I thought I’m prepared for the challenge. Little did I know! The language I learned turned out to be the medieval cousin of the American language spoken in the US. Not only do Americans have a chewing gum in their mouth when they speak vs English people, who have a hot potato in their mouth, they also use different words and you have to be careful to stick with the proper vocabulary. So don’t buy rubbers for your children’s first day of school equipment when they are just in 3rd or 4th grade. That’s more appropriate for 10th grade, when they really need a rubber / eraser / condom 😳. And calling a doctors office to ask for a date with a gynecologist isn’t such a fun idea either, because a date is something very different than an appointment, one less professional and more romantic than the other. And there are so many more examples of “sitting in the clanger” which means to “put one’s foot in one’s mouth”. But luckily I got a big portion of humor and I hope all the people around me got the same, otherwise they’d just turn around and laugh, roll their eyes, be shocked or otherwise not be my friends anymore.

In college, where I teach fashion design, it is a bit challenging in its own way. Officially there are lots of possibilities to make mistakes and the list is long on what you can say or ask. For example I cannot ask a student where he/she/them is from. That is a micro-aggression, indicating that – because they look different or speak with an accent – I assume that they are not as good as their American classmates. I look different myself and my German accent is recognized as soon as I open my mouth. So I kinda sit in the same boat, but I’m not allowed to ask my students where they’re from?!? And in Fashion Design I’m supposed to say chest, high point, rear and bottocks instead of breast and butt. Sometimes I catch my students with this frozen expression of a shocked deer in the headlights because I say the name of a body part in an inappropriate way and I think: c’mon people, get rid of that prudish political correctness and start having fun again! 😳😳😳

Bavaria – this & that

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Just another thunderstorm rolling in…
Neuburg, where I spent a nice day with my sister Petra…
Munich with everything your heart desires, family,
the opera house,
and Princess Sophie cake, rhubarb cake and delicious tea
My niece Saskia and her huge portion of tiramisu. I swear, I only tried a tiny bite! Or was it half of it? I can’t remember and it’s not that important…

Flying

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This time I chose to chop up my flight to Germany in three segments. San Luis Obispo, CA -> Phoenix, AZ -> London, UK -> Munich, DE. It is nice to get off a crowded plane, stretch your legs and walk around before taking the next part of your journey. It is nice to use a restroom that is not miniature size and has a line waiting outside, it is nice to visit some stores, watch people stress about their connection and it is nice to walk seven minutes from your arriving gate to your departure gate when you have 90 minutes between flights.

And then there is Heathrow International Airport in London. Layover: 90 minutes. Time to use a restroom or watch people = 0 minutes. Because at Heathrow, they don’t want you to pee and they are very successful with people who watch you stressing from your arriving terminal to the departing terminal. Visiting store time = 0 minutes, walking = 0. Everything has to be done running. And then you think you arrived at what you thought is terminal 5, but this is just a bus station with a mile long line of people who are all stressed catching the next bus or the second or third bus, because time is running out. And when you finally made it into a bus, you get a sightseeing tour of the Heathrow Airport, because there is no direct drive from point A to B. At Heathrow, the connection is the longest possible way from A to B. It took me 90 minutes to hurry to my connection flight, and I hate to be forced to hurry. I wanted to use the restroom, I wanted to watch people and not be the one being watched. I don’t like Heathrow. Never have, never will…..

But I made it just in time, jumped onto my third airplane and safely flew towards my final destination: Munich! And then there was this mayor storm. The airport was shut down, because a mega thunderstorm decided to give us a little hello party. The delay itself was not so much of a problem, but all the catching up the airport had to do. All those airplanes that had to circle around before landing were in a big rush to land and unload all those people, who were in a sour mood by then. Don’t ask me how the pointy elbows felt at the baggage claim. Everybody had a reason to feel more important and therefore use their elbows to make their way to the luggage. Maybe because they didn’t know that the suitcases, once on the distribution belt, will circle around again and again. It is coming back eventually. It is not falling off the edge of the flat surface of the earth if you can’t get it off the luggage belt the first time around. But people know so little sometimes!

Storm near Munich

Fashion! Or is it Art? Or both?

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„Viktor&Rolf is the avant-garde luxury fashion house founded in 1993 by fashion artists Viktor Horsting and Rolf Snoeren after their graduation from the Arnhem Academy of Art and Design. Widely recognized and respected for its provocative Haute Couture and conceptual glamour, the house of Viktor&Rolf aspires to create spectacular beauty and unexpected elegance through an unconventional approach to fashion.“

Why do we wear clothing? Is it to show our religious or societal rank? Or because we need protection against the elements? Or because we want to be modest? Whatever the reason, that piece of garment has to be designed and produced, it has to follow rules of chemistry and physics. Materials like icecubes won’t work, especially in warm climates. And then there is gravity. And Viktor&Rolf, who question everything I just mentioned in this paragraph.

This long dress with its simple silhouette is made of fabric that is usually used for blue-screen technology. When the models walked down the runway, the blue-screen material was replaced by videos of thunderstorm, fireworks, nature, etc. The material of the dress was used as a screen, a canvas to go beyond and dissolves the material itself. This plays tricks with your imagination and dissolves the boundary an outfit usually has: inside the dress is the body, and the dress is the border to the outside.

Another way to break all the rules of convention are those outfits below. Fashion designers create gaps and openings in fabrics to stimulate curiosity, to enhance comfort and wearability. But an opening doesn’t have to be limited to a strapless or one-shoulder top, a backless dress or a miniskirt. Why not remove areas in-between? It’s still a long dress, but with maximal exposure.

And don’t forget the fun! Fun with fooling gravity, fun with questioning symmetry, fun with material choices that get your heart smiling and your mind remembering times when you scribbled your first fashion designs with no rule catalog weighing you down.

Viktor&Rolf also show those classics that awe everybody who has an appreciation for a garment that took 600 hours of work, haute couture at its best! This dress was worn by the Dutch princess Mabel van Oranje-Nassau‘s nuptials with Prince Friso. The white satin dress, including a 3-meter train is decorated with 248 silk bows.

Another favorite: it looks like it’s made of 1 yard of nude jersey and some fabric markers. Simple, comfortable, and why not? It takes guts to design an outfit like that, but hey, it’s Viktor&Rolf!

Highschool Reunion – part 2

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The last time I attended a highschool reunion was 30 years ago. It was our 10th and it was not very well attended. Mostly the nerdy kids, that had landed a great job; they bragged about “my house, my car, my boat” stuff and I couldn’t keep up with any of their lives. I was a single mom with two boys, I had a masters degree, but no house, no car and no boat either.

Then…
… and now

This time, 30 years later, we really enjoyed each other’s company. We gave each other hugs, because – as one of my class mates said – now we’re brave enough to do so! Very sweet! We talked about life, fate, disappointments, new beginnings. We talked about trauma, struggles, bumps and loosing loved ones. Starting families, blending families, we enjoyed talking about kids and a few already had grandchildren! No house, no car, no boat was mentioned. Very funny: now that I have a house, a car and a boat. Technically it’s 2.5 houses and it is Ted’s boat, but that’s not the point. The point is: I enjoyed seeing my classmates again and sharing stories. It was a very hot and humid day and the white wine was plenty. This event left a warm fuzzy feeling around my heart and I felt closer to my buddies than ever before. Except Ulrike, my BFF! Knowing somebody so well at the age of 20 and still be so close at the age of 60 is special and I feel spoiled…..

BFF: Ulli and I

Highschool Reunion – part 1

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The main reason for this trip to Germany is my 40th highschool reunion. It is a good starting point to remember those times way back when, it is also a reflection of what happened since. And that is a lot!

Between the age of 20 and 30 was the most difficult time and the time when major life directions happened: I had my sons when I was 25 and 26 years old, I went to university, finished with an MA degree despite being a single mom and working for a photographer. It was tough! I moved, we moved many times, we had a tight budget, but I always found time and money to travel: a few times in Greece, France, Croatia and Italy, then Bali, Tunisia, Turkey, USA. In retrospect, I accomplished a lot, and if somebody would tell MY story now, I wouldn’t believe it!

Between the age of 30 and 40 still lots of changes happened: getting married, moving, still moving, but this time further away: to the US. The kids were slowly getting to be teenagers, exploring their own lives. This was fun to watch! And painful sometimes, watching them going through their identification process, separating from the mothership, creating their own characters. I was and still am very proud of them! I heard once that “once you are a parent, you wear your heart outside your body” and I’m sure every parent understands those words….. I started my own business, worked a lot and traveled to numerous juried art shows and wholesale shows all over the US. And if somebody would tell MY story now, I wouldn’t believe it!

Between the age of 40 and 50 I had more changes sweeping through the homefront: divorce, marriage, more moves. The sudden death of my father was a major hit, it haunted me many years! Professionally there were challenges, opportunities and finding passions that I forgot I had: I started teaching in College and I love it! Inspiring my students, sharing my experiences from my own business, helping them find their way, this was always meant to happen. As a little girl I had a “classroom” in our basement, a school board, some chalk and a hotchpotch of little chairs for the neighborhood kids and my sibling. And I played being a teacher. And I guess I was very good, because all of them ended up having a profession and I blame my highly advanced teaching skills for all their successes! And of course, if somebody would tell MY story,…..

Between the age 50 and 60 more changes, more moves, more challenges: being widowed, remarried, working on my career and being financially independent, settled and worry-free. Excessive traveling, for days, weeks, and even months, all is good. Being away for 8 months was only possible because of Covid 19: the lockdown + remote teaching + internet = flexibility on steroids! You just have to see it and create something so beautiful out of the many negative impacts this pandemic had for everybody. As mentioned in a previous post, I don’t consider myself a tourist, I am a traveler! Two days before my 60th birthday my younger son got engaged to his girlfriend and I guess, there will be more excitement in the next decade in my life! And of course, if somebody would tell MY story,…..

In 4 hours, my best friend from highschool, Ulrike, will pick me up and we will visit our school where the reunion will happen: we will be shocked to see all those old people, we will laugh, talk, and we will have a great time! Our graduation year had ~90 students and half of them will attend today. And I am most nervous of not recognizing anybody anymore. I do hope they’ll have name tags or something, so I’d better bring my reading glasses. Not that I ever need them, because, of course I didn’t age…..

Photo by Markus Spiske on Pexels.com