Wk 7: Germany
It's heavy here, and its not just the food...
All aboard the *delayed* night train. With eye mask, earplugs, and neck pillow in tow, I was prepared to survive the journey from Copenhagen to Berlin. What a great time for travel to humble me yet again. I've traveled via night train in the US, and all I remember is how cold I was. Based on that information, I wore socks and shoes, leggings, and a sweater. I thought I would be fine. I forgot that Old Man Winter resides in the night train. With a night filled with tossing and turning, I wondered if I would wake up frozen to the seat. After checking for frostbite, I grabbed my backpacks and put the train behind me. It was time to seek comfort. I got McDonald's for breakfast and called an Uber to take me to my hostel. Sometimes you just have to take the easy route.
Due to my extended stay in Copenhagen, plans in Berlin had shifted to a short weekend destination, but that wasn't the only thing that had shifted. I was sad and exhausted, with no desire to do the things I originally planned in Berlin. After forcing myself to leave the hostel and do something, the weight kept increasing. Everywhere I looked, all I could think was, "Yeah, I'm definitely not cool enough to be here." I wished I was back somewhere else. Berlin has a hipster artsy vibe with a big old scoop of heavy German history. I eventually accepted I would feel a little out of place here and headed to immerse myself in art for a few hours anyway. The East Side Gallery is a portion of the Berlin Wall that artists started covering with paint immediately after the wall fell in 1989. It’s now the largest open-air gallery in the world. What I found particularly interesting, sometimes even more than the art pieces themselves, was the graffiti on the back side of the wall. I was quite fond of this writing I found in a space that could have been covered by my handprint: “Let people live, it’s their first time living too.” I find myself amazed and inspired by youth who call us back to our own humanity. Why do we tend to forget this as we age? After getting sucked in but successfully dodging a scammer at the gallery, I was ready to call it a day. The hostel bed was the comfiest I've experienced, all the more reason to allow myself to rot in it.
When you are truly in need, the universe provides, and it certainly did for me. What pairs well with 3 hours of depressing history? A tour guide with a British accent. Thank God. With my ears full of energy, I decided I would tackle the memorial for the murdered jews of Europe that takes up an entire city block and its pairing, the free museum. I opted for the audio tour and got to know Jewish families who experienced despicable tragedy in a way I don't think I can truly ever understand. The pure hatred that fuels that kind of torture is beyond my comprehension. The whole experience was chilling. I walked an hour and a half back to my hostel that day just to let the experience fully process through my body. Long, hot, but completely necessary. I finished up with ice cream for dinner. Also necessary.
The next day, I scooted out of Berlin as fast as I could to a place where happy, familiar faces would be waiting, Munich. Braindead from more train delays and disruptions (German efficiency is a total lie), I ran into the arms of my friends, and my brain went offline. My role was now passenger princess, and my goal was to coast through the week, where hopefully I'd move from zombie to something resembling my previous self.
In the caring hands of our native German hostess, we slept in and enjoyed a slow, tasty breakfast every morning before heading out to various adventures. The city of Munich, the quaint cities of the countryside, a boat tour, a hike up the "Holy Mountain of Bavaria", forest walks, lake swims, palaces, souviner shopping, botanical gardens, historic churches, and of course a generous helping of German foods washed down with *non-alcoholic* pints of beer. I even got to enjoy a German band playing music in full traditional clothing. It seems the only thing missing from a full German experience would have been Oktoberfest, but that's not til September.
Despite having a lovely time following around my friends like a daydreaming duckling, I couldn't shake the pure exhaustion and haze I felt in my brain and body. I also felt myself growing weary of German food and the German language, specifically the length of their words, which I couldn’t quite pronounce. The sites and scenery were often idyllic, but I ached for something else. Mostly just to not feel how I was feeling anymore. Atop the "Holy Mountain," we stopped to admire the church, and I felt the pull to slip into a pew to pray. As I looked up at all the white and gold details, I asked for direction on what to do with my life. I sat, I looked around, and I waited to see if an answer would come. "Whatever you decide to do, you can, stop selling yourself short that you aren't capable of accomplishing whatever you choose." With a small sigh, I left the church knowing I had heard exactly what I needed, but not the direct answer I wanted. I suppose it doesn't work that way.
With a couple of days left, I decided to take the morning for myself. I slept in and kept to myself for a while to journal. I went for a swim and lay in the sun. Instead of talking, I sank into myself. Then I felt it. Finally, a shift! I felt like myself again, lighter, and present in my body. I decided to give myself a break from thinking about what comes after this. The reality was I still needed to plan for the present, and I didn’t have a plan yet to leave Germany. I also realized in some ways, I'd lost some of the plot and decided to refocus on my real purpose for coming here, my growth and discovery. With all that in mind, I had the energy and the clarity to book my ticket to Greece, the destination I've been dreaming of and trying to go to since 2013. This trip, but especially this specific country, was about prioritizing my dream and proving to myself I would no longer let anything get in the way of my accomplishing it. It was time to get on a plane and go.
In each country so far, I have collected a small lapel pin, as most other souvenirs would be impossible to fit in my minimal luggage. Finding one in Germany I liked seemed impossible, and I was running out of time. On our last full day together, we did a little shopping, and I came across a dainty gold wristlet, a chain of hearts. This seemed to be a fitting symbol of realignment to my self-discovery and a reminder to take care of myself in this journey so I bought it. Yes, it ruins my plans of having a lapel pin in each country, but sometimes you need to pivot. Just because it was the plan doesn't mean you can't change it. Lessons from my time in Germany just kept stacking up.
As I write this, I am on the plane from Germany to Greece, and the last couple of days have been a whirlwind of emotions. This feels like the pinnacle, and I'm not quite sure if I want to cry, throw up, or do a happy dance.
I guess you'll have to wait a week to find out which one prevails.
On the cusp of dreams coming true,
XO Dak