Category: Places
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Enter winter, doing a little numerologist’s two-step
Today’s weather report (in that Fahrenheit system): Highs of 60, lows of 44. Tomorrow: Highs of 44, low of 30. Hello, winter. I particularly like that it’s not even going to bother heating up tomorrow. It’ll just pick up where it left off tonight, and keep on falling. That’s pure German efficiency for you. Needless…
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Melting the ice. And not in that $#^#$ GOP way…
My German teacher (and official saint-of-the-month) Christian says there’s only one way to deal with German bureaucracy. You don’t push hard. You don’t plead, you don’t argue. You melt the ice. Und jetzt: The ice is finally melting. We visited the Senate office for Business, Work and Women (don’t ask) today, and met with Frau…
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We *are* in Mittel-earth
Spotted at the store, and of course taken home: Hobbit cookies. Or biscuits, it was unclear first exactly what they were. Bright orange wrapper, with “Hobbit” written in bold letters. And no, as far as we can tell that means nothing in German. Verdict: Oh, so delicious, for second breakfast AND Elevensies! Oatmeal cookie goodness.…
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Hurdy-gurdy, the automatic vioin
We were walking up Nerudova to the Prague Castle last week, when I heard around a corner a strange droning music, a little like bagpipes, but not at all reedy. We turned the corner and an old street musician was there, sitting in a chair, with an unfamilar stringed instrument in his lap . It…
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Just when you think you’ve got the paperwork down…
So, our Fiktionsbescheinigungen (temporary visa extensions) expire this week, so it’s back to the Ausländerbehörde to get real visas. We thought we were set; last time, we filled out documents, they sent our applications to the Arbeitsamt (work-permit office) to get our standing as self-employed journalists approved, and said it shouldn’t be a problem. This…
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Living under, or on, the medieval thumb
Somewhere, way back in history, a guy on a horse stumbled across a bend in the Vltava river, in what’s now the southern Czech Republic. Or not a bend — a whole series of bends, so that a little thumb of land was surrounded almost wholly by the river. He scratched his head for a…
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Lights, but none of them are quite celestial enough
A cool 5 am ride across the city. I have two complaints. One serious: This was the going away party for our closest friends here, Kenji and Till. They’re moving to Munich, for opportunities too good to pass up. We are overjoyed for them, and still devastated. We’re going to be spending too many GermanWings…
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J’accuse. Or I date? It’s all nomative, relative, what?
This learning German thing, it’s good. It’ll be nice to be able to speak in a non-simpleminded manner someday. If that day ever comes. For now it’s getting up too early in the morning to throw ourselves into the twin hells of accusative and dative cases, and all the parts of speech agreeing, like that…
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Field trips: Ruined village, bristling boars
A few days ago our friend Norbert called us and asked if we wanted to go to the old Olympic Village to take pictures. We looked it up; it’s mostly ruined, but a bank has purchased the property, and is restoring bits, and is celebrating the 70th anniversary this year. The Village is in the…
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I like to water down my gin, with whiskey
So, who knew? We’re at a bar last night on Bergmanstrasse, hip orange and white decor, very minimalist, but the usual mellow Berlin crowd. I haven’t quite finished reading the cocktail menu when the waiter comes. I’m a fast reader, but it’s long. All I can recall is the Smokey Martini. Laphroig and Bombay. It…
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Rain, ego, and marionette rock stars
It’s gray outside, which isn’t exactly new, but the persistence of the rain is. The temperature has dropped decidedly into fall territory, which seems a bit early to me. A year ago we arrived in Berlin to scout, and it was hot, T-shirt weather, a beautiful Indian summer. Since in SF we get our summers…
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The Nazis march, but are outnumbered
A genuine Neonazi demonstration marched past our window today. The first we knew of it was a flyer on our door, of unclear origin, advising us of the approach, and suggesting a few ways to protest. Hang a flag, write our local councilperson, turn up music loud out our windows as they marched past. We…
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Sweating through the Mediterranean
So, a little late, but almost exactly a week ago we returned from two weeks in France and Italy, sweating our way through the heat wave which has nothing to do with global warming. A quick recap: Two nights in Paris. Aimee left me here to go wandering through the best wineries in the world.…
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Three more months!
It’s hot today, wiltingly warm, and so naturally we put on our presentable clothes and got on our bikes and rode down to the Auslanderbehörde, where we needed to get our long-term visa. We’d been warned about their coolness. Frigidity. Anything that represents unfriendliness and unhelpfulness. Our language hero Till told us a story of…
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Cup and community, the morning after
My first start-to-finish World Cup now just 10 hours and a fitful sleep past, and I am already melancholy, conscious of its absence. But its final moment’s mystery remains: Why did Zidane, one of the world’s best players, in what was probably the final international match of his life, at a critical moment, give way…