A rainy morning here in my cousin Johanna's apartment/home in Potsdam. (My dad's sister Julia's youngest daughter who has lived in Germany since 1997 when she came here to become a violin luthier). She met her love and husband Vale in the workshop and has never left.
She and her tall husband and three children (4, 11, 14) live here in seemingly simplified European bliss. They both live and work deeply in the early music world here: making instruments (violins, cellos and viola de gambas) with gut strings and also making music. They live in a huge old pre-war apartment building (though they make incredibly creative and genius use of their only 70-sq-meter space with lofted beds and hand-crafted walls and very uncomplaining children!) and there is a gorgeous courtyard garden out back with aggressive ivy, gardens and green grass to play in. It is entirely walled in, adding to the charming secret-garden vibe.
When they had their third child (Bronwyn, now 4), they assumed the would need to move, and soon, but 4 years later they just can't imagine leaving this space, however much they have outgrown its size. They live in very central Potsdam (the "crown jewel" historic UNESCO certified city with palaces and gardens ~1 hr outside Berlin, in the state of Brandenburg), bike everywhere and survive with only one car (also using the tram to Berlin and walking to their nearby studio). They say rents have skyrocketed here, and also in Berlin, and to live in a larger space would mean living outside the city and needing 2 cars and really being reliant upon them—they feel that Berlin/Potsdam are being "Manhattanized" with all the small-scale crafters and artists that gave it it's amazing bohemian feel being pushed out. There also is a Waldorf school very nearby (a huge thing for them).
In any case, is it totally wonderful to bike through the rain and bumpy cobble stone streets to a large grey building and ring the doorbell and have it open to the smiling face of a dear cousin you have not seen in years. She made an amazing dinner of chicken tagine with currants and onions reduced to a caramelized juicy sauce and we all ate with our fingers and bread around their wooden kitchen table (underneath their lofted bed that Vale built).
We are here for the weekend, visiting them and the city, and will make a move towards Berlin (perhaps to visit, perhaps to sleep) on Monday (Ross's 32nd birthday!) We (I) am trying to make Ross's birthday special, which means going to a famous techno club or a few electronic concerts—a stretch for me (Nate I really really wish you were here!!!) but well worth it for my husband :) I have been rocking out to Robyn (re-mixed) while biking up some big hills so I am kind of in electronic-music training one might say. Also enjoyed the Caribou album yesterday while biking between Rathenow and Brandenburg…."light" emo electronic music I guess.
Leading up to our landing here we spent 2 nights camping in a forest and even an actual "camp site" where we had the most amazing visit from a stranger. As we arrived at ~ 6: 30 pm, after a 70 km day, to a RV/camp site (we try to avoid these but night was falling and rain was a-coming), we selected our meadow site and started to boil water and set up the tent. An older man came down to us and told us he was "punished" by old age and disease and not able to do as we were, but was so delighted to see young blood out on adventure and he was very happy for us. What conversation followed was a bit jumbled, perhaps he was a tad senile, but he gave us warm wishes and a wonderful welcome to a campsite we were feeling "meh" about. He then came back ~ 10 minutes later with greek yogurt, fresh foraged berries, fresh-made raspberry jam (I think it was the best I have ever had?!) and some crystallized ginger, two spoons, and a jar of sour cherries. Oh man. He wished us well, to enjoy ourselves and to watch out for the police state of Serbia? Need to check into that…might be jumbled ideas or actually something to research.
The biking has been good—our Surly's are amazing, strong and reliable, no issues thus far. My fancy Ortlieb pannier is another story, already with a tear in in (from merely brushing it against a brick doorway) and also one of the side bolts came loose (so had to be fixed road-side)…kind go nerve-wracking since these bags hold our life and supplies and are supposed to be super-tough. Will deal with a warranty when I get back, which is up to 5 -years at least.
Our bodies could use much more time to rest and stretch but it's quite hard to find time (or space) for yoga when we are staying in ferry bunk beds, a tunnel tent, other people's living rooms and also having amazing cultural exchanges with warm showers folks. And I have not seen a bathtub since September 6th. Europeans are much more into showers? But we did find a saunca/bath-house one night (in Lüneburg), after our cozy night with the Klomps. It was ~ 11.20 euro for 2 hours, 5 saunas (one with color-changing with salt blocks), one silent wood-fired, one regular wood-fired, one very steamy eucalyptus one and one I can't recall. There were cold salt-water pools to dunk and cool-off in and everyone, co-ed, was naked. It was quite perfect (except it was at the start of a 3-day stretch of long rides for us, rather than the end).
In talking with my family last night, and thinking it all through, I think that I am making peace with the rawness of this trip. It is full of many contradicting parts that are overall inspiring and energizing and educational but also hard and and stressful and draining. I could bike for hours and hours every day, that part is my favorite, along rivers and through farmland, talking to Ross about our home-making plans and music and history. The camping in the rain, the where-are-we-going-to-get-water/food/shelter part has made me feel somewhat panicky at times, but it has all worked out more than fine. Swimmingly even. But nonetheless, it is still harder than a stretched out & relaxing 3-month european vacation (which I might have been under then impression I was going on). Still, we are finding ways to unwind in the middle of this all, enjoy each other and all the wild characters and stories we are coming across.
We are (phew) planning to take a week+ of decompression time in Greece at the very end, sitting quite still, with plates of olives and cheese before coming home for Christmas in NY/NJ. It is also looking quite likely I will have a job to come home to and so the tasks of finding a new home/ settling back into Philly loom a bit. It is daunting, some days, but worth it. As I sit to write this blog, or talk to my family, I know that we are on a completely ridiculous and special trip that is teaching us so much, outside and in, kind of like being in a big rock-tumbler (which has it perks?)
Anyways, wish us luck as we keep on moving through the trip and try to work on the balance of it all…it's like a really hard yoga pose.
Much love,
m.b.
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