Hello Berlin!

With Christmas just around the corner, Fritz and I packed up our Frankfurt apartment and set out for Berlin where we hoped to secure a flat for our post-Christmas return to Germany.  The character of the capital city was immediately apparent.  It's amazing how cities really do have a "personality".  I don't know enough about Berlin yet to speak to its personality, but I can tell you that the flavor is quite different from that of Frankfurt.  

The subway, which originally opened in 1902 and has undergone 3 major construction phases (1913, 1930, and 1953), is quite colorful with old yellow cars, brightly tiled walls giving the platforms a retro flair, and musicians that pop on and off the train to serenade the passengers in exchange for a few loose coins.  

Fritz and I found ourselves, once again, feeling so thankful for the wonderful people we met while we were in Frankfurt.  Our friend Frederic connected us with his parents who maintain a room in a Berlin flat so they have a place to stay when they want an escape from their home in Venice.  Frederic's father is a journalist for a leading German newspaper as well as a published author of books on Sweedish architecture and decor.  Needless to say, their apartment was lovely and they let us stay in it for our three days in Berlin.  

The room was spacious with a high ceiling, a huge bookshelf well stocked with books in multiple languages, an enormous bed with feather pillows that seemed to eat me up as I dozed, a giant picture window overlooking the quiet street below, a large clean desk, and a cozy sitting area perfect for late night reading. What luxury!  How did we ever get so lucky?

Subway Soul Music

A picture might be worth a 1,000 words, but it will never capture the magic that flowed out of this woman's instrument.  I was bustling through the subway when I was struck still by a stream of enchanting Vivaldi echoing through the underground sanctuary of commuters.  I had to stop.  And as I stood, I noticed I was not the only one taken by the melody she was weaving.  All around me, people were pausing.  Some paused just for a moment, while others stayed.  They leaned up against a wall with the overused disguise of importantly checking their cell phone, but they didn't fool me.  Pretending not to listen so as to avoid the social obligation of dropping a few coins into her open violin case, they snuck sideways glances in her direction to put a face to the beautiful music they were hearing.  I know about these people, because I was one of them.  

But I couldn't stay hidden.  I shamelessly stepped out from behind the large blue column I was hiding behind and smiled at the woman.  She smiled back and I took her picture.  I smiled again and I dropped some coins into her case.  In my smile, I tried to tell her that I loved what she was doing, that her music was warming my soul, and that her work was reminding me that a person should never be too busy to stop when they are graced with something truly beautiful in a most unlikely place.   I don't know if she heard everything my smile was trying to say, but I hope so.  My heart broke as she stroked the last note of the piece.  Perhaps it was all in my mind, but I felt the station stand still for a moment in silent appreciation of the gift that was just given.  She released her bow and I clapped as she tipped her head to me.  The din of the crowded station took over and I ascended to the busy streets above.  

Our Neighborhood

As Fritz and I have gotten a bit more settled into our neighborhood, it's become clear that the area where we spent our first week in Frankfurt (at Mikko's house) was quite exceptional.  I don't mean to say that the rest of Frankfurt is ugly, it's just not quite as lovely as I might have originally thought.

This is the view from our 4th-floor window.  By the way, in Germany they don't count the ground floor as the 1st floor, so we actually live on the 5th floor... and there is no elevator.  On days when I'm feeling bad that I don't belong to a gym, I just do the laundry... the washing machines are in the basement.  Workout accomplished!

It's nice to be on the 4th/5th floor though.  We get more natural light coming into our apartment, there is a view of leafy trees, and the roofline across from us is kind of pretty.  And we only have 2 suitcases each so it's not like moving in and out is really all that difficult.

This view is one block from our apartment and it is the road we walk to get to the main train station just up the street.  You can see two rounded buildings up the road.  That's the main train terminal where the long-distance trains roll in.  The U-Bahn (that's the subway) is also located under that building.  

Another view of the train station as we get closer.  My favorite part is all the power lines.  They really give the neighborhood an industrial-chic vibe that is all the rage these days.  The big rectangular building with the clock on it is some kind of train control tower.

Although it might not be beautiful, it is very convenient to be so close to public transportation.  We basically make this walk every day at least once.  Fritz takes the U-Bahn to class and I take it to... where ever I want really.  Sometimes I go to outdoor markets where I get local ingredients for our dinner.  Sometimes I go to the knitting store for a new ball of yarn (neither of us brought hats here so I've been busy fixing our hat-less problem).   Sometimes I go to Zeil where all the shopping is and walk around the busy stores filled with the latest German fashion (mostly clunky black slip-on boots and colorful sweater-ponchos).  Sometimes I go to coffee shops like I did today where I drink a latte macchiato while writing a new blog post or reading a book.

It's a pretty good life!  I still can't speak much German and it's becoming clear that I probably won't get that far.  Not to be a defeatist.  I don't feel sorry for myself or anything.  I just don't think I'll be here long enough or around people who don't automatically switch to English as soon as the glazed look of "I-have-no-idea-what-you-just-said" comes over my eyes.  It's ok.  The language barrier just enhances the adventure and provides a new obstacle to my otherwise carefree existences.