Portugal …ten days with the American

Getting up at 6 in the morning, I took off from Gerês and drove 4 hours to Lisbon to pick up Tommy. For the first two hours I was driving through clouds from wildfires – a mesmerizing and sad experience. They make a very special and beautiful light, especially with sunsets and sun rises.

Tommy and me spent two more days exploring Lisboa while staying in a beautiful and cozy air bnb.
Our next destination was the South coast – the Algarve. We had booked an Air bnb in Carvoeira. The place had some old time charme and a beautiful ocean view. The coast line was stunning with steep limestone cliffs that lined with caves and grottoes. I had been warned that the Algarve is very touristic and so we found big hotels and the kind of tourists that are super happy when they hear someone speaking in their mother tongue. At some point I pondered why they bother me and if they aren’t just part of the whole and told myself to let go and accept without judging.
We enjoyed hiking along the coastline, swimming in the ocean and soaking up the sun. There I met another beautiful soul that will stay in my memories. In our neighbourhood a street dog was walking around. She was a beautiful mid size podengo portuguese, just about shy of a year old and had a jolly, happy attitude. We played on the beach and she quickly trusted me. Even though she seemed pretty healthy (besides being a bit on the skinny side) the beforementioned tourists pittied her “I think she is close to dying” while she was sleeping in a cave. I laughed to myself. She didn’t leave my thoughts and I tried to contact a Portuguese organization when I got back home but never heard back from them. I hope she is enjoying her life.

After four days we left Carvoeira, driving west along the south coast. We payed Sagres Fortress a visit where we experienced strong winds and had a look around the fortress.
From there we went north. The area felt much different to the southern coast with its touristic towns and square hotel blocks. Here it was much more rugged and empty. It felt good. We arrived in Aljezur where we had a little stop. I really enjoyed the vibes of this little town. I saw backpackers around and their seemed to be an artsy community. We got some groceries and continued to our next destination – a yurt a few kilometres inland. To get there we turned off the main road and followed a sandy, slightly scary path down into a valley of corck and eucalyptus. Our host was a british guy who was developing his land into a “glamping” destination. Spread out on a big piece of land there were a little tree house, a farm house, a stone house, a little swimming pond and our yurt. Together with it came a roofed outdoorkitchen, an outdoor shower, a beautiful deck and a compost toilet. Our host himself was living in a trailer further down the valley. He was an interesting guy and we shared some talks about society, the education systems and nature. The place was tranquil and wonderfully peaceful. I could have stayed much longer but I enjoyed the four days as it was. I enjoyed the deck, the peace and not having to wear that much clothes. One evening we went back to the coast where we had a meal at the Taberna do Gabriel II, overlooking the ribeira de Aljezur mouthing into the Atlantic Ocean. The meal was one of the best once I have had and the grumpy waiter just added to the experience, as he was very charming in his own grumpy way.
Even though we had already put in quite a few hours, this valley, the deck in front of our yurt was the place we spent a lot of time talking about us, our relationship, how and if we should continue. We went through anger and tears. In the end we decided we didn’t want to give up just yet. We decided that I should come and stay in the USA to see how we work in an every day life. Part of me knew then that this wasn’t going to work but I also knew that decisions come when it is time for them.

Our last day was spent at the beach of Odeceixe. From there we drove back to Lisbon, where we had booked a room at a shared apartment.

We said goodbye – to each other and to Portugal. Tommy with a sense of “good to have been here”, me with a sense of “Portugal, what a stunning place you were, I’ll surely be back.”

 

Parque Nacional da Peneda-Gerês

After a bit of city life in Oporto I was ready to go back to nature and headed north to Parque Nacional da Peneda-Gerês. Again I realized I was ill prepared for driving. In the Braga area I got badly lost. Getting some directions in Portugues at a café didn’t help me and on top of it all I drove through the wrong lane at a toll station and had to pay 20€ as a consequence. After driving in circles for 45 minutes my anger and frustration needed to get out and I elbowed the door of my car so hard that I had a massive bruise for two weeks. After I cried a bit at a parking lot (being frustrated and desperate, not from pain), I pulled myself together and came up with another strategy. I made a detour through another city that was on my shitty map and finally made it to Gerês and the campground I had looked at before.

After this rough start I had the most amazing time in this beautiful and stunning place.
I put up my hammock in a nice spot and went to check out the reservoir of the river Homem that was just up the road. Thinking back to those moments just now, gives me a feeling of deep peace and warmth. The river is nestled in a valley. From the main road you have get a great view – the kind that makes you gasp and be deeply grateful for being able to experience this beauty. A few people were enjoying the water and I followed something that can’t be described as a path and reached a little peninsula with pine trees. Here I was all alone and recharged with a peaceful nap. The water was of a mesmerizing blue and very clear. I took a swim around the corner, took some dives from the big rocks and walked back to my spot over land – barefoot and in my bikini. This afternoon I felt absolute freedom, I felt absolute.
The sun was setting in company of some eery and strange clouds. I later learned that those clouds stemed from wild fire. At the time they were utterly fascinating and gave the sunset the most stunning colours.

The next morning – just like the ones that followed I watched the sun rise over the hills from my hammock – the best way of waking up (even though I fell back asleep and stayed “in bed” until 9). When I came back from the bathroom. My neighbours invited me for coffee. I didn’t take that but I took their company. They turned out to be some of the most amazing people I have met and we would spent most of the next two days together. They were a couple from Israel – Dahlia and Barack. Dahlia had just finished her masters in Mathmatics, they quit their appartment, brought all their stuff to friends and took off travelling with their backpacks. Dahlia earned a well-deserved rank in my mental group of Amazons. She is a powerful, independent and very smart woman who is eager to share her wisdom and joy for life. Barak impressed with his stoic calmness and grounding ways of being. They seemed to balance each other in a wonderful way. We went on a beautiful and nicely demanding hike in the hills together. They were strong hiking partners and knew how to have a good hiking lunch. We had a wonderful time. After some refreshments, namely ice cream, at a little café, we took a detour to escape the road which brought us on an old roman path. We took another detour in the village of Campo do Gerês and found a beautiful little bar – Chamadouro Bar – and a had glass of wine/beer. In the evening we cooked together and met a group of people. They were Dutch and Portuguese Astronomers and we had interesting and inspiring talks.

The next day was a slow one. I found Barak and Dahlia around noon and we decided to get a bottle of wine and hang out at the river. We had a tranquil time at the same peninsula I had enjoyed by myself. I was in aw by their sense of adventure that felt similar to my own. We jumped rocks, drank wine, exchanged thoughts and ideas and napped in the shade of the pines.
Our time together came to an end watching the Perseid meteor shower, lying on a big boulder, overlooking the beautiful Homem river valley. We had joined our fellow travellers from the Netherlands and Portugal on that boulder, who entlightened us with interesting details about the night sky and space.

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Oporto

Oporto – Portugal’s second biggest city is a bustling place with many tourists, a lot of beautiful street art, wonderful architecture and culinary specialty that really is a special one.

I had found myself a couchsurfing host with a dog. Both of them were really nice and welcoming. In fact I was staying with a celebrity – the youngest coach of a first league women’s volleyball team (you might be able to guess, that means he didn’t have a lot of money). Together with me a heat wave arrived in the city and my stay was accompanied by lovely blue skies and sweltering 38° C. Lucky us we were invited to a friend of my host or rather the parents of his girlfriend who had a massive pool in the backyard. After a short and sweaty visit and look around in the city we went to said friends parents and spent a carefree rest of the day with a goup of interesting and happy people, in the company of 5 dalmatian dogs. Every couple of hours there were some new food and drinks around and I especially didn’t have to worry about anything as they were mostly speaking portuguese and all I had to do was be, eat and drink.
On my second day I went on a trip around the city by myself. I checked out the main sights, walked up a church tower and I learned that 38°C is something that my body really has issues with.
Oporto is home to a very special book store – Livraria Lello. It is almost 130 years old and shows an interesting and strikingly beautiful architecture. That and probably the fact that J.K. Rolling took inspiration for the Hogwarts library in this place make it to a highly frequented sight. You actually have to pay to get in (which you get back if you buy something) and if you come at the wrong time, wait in a very loooong line. I came at the right time and wasn’t mad I payed 4€ for this stunning place.
Before I ventured back to my host I had to try this very special local dish that was signposted everywhere (“we have it here!”) and that my host wanted to bring to the rest of the world. Francesinha is something like a sandwich – two white toasts hold steak, bacon, sausage and Linguiça (Portuguese sausage). All of this gets covered in melted cheese and then all of that gets soaked and covered in a brownish sauce made out of tomatoes and beer. It is pretty much what you think it would be. For me it wasn’t that great of a meal even though a memorable one and I am glad I tried this extraordinary thing. Afterwards it’s hard to move.

Oporto – a busy and lovely place. There is always more to see and experience but after two days I was happy to continue north where a national park was waiting for me.

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Driving North – Lisbon to Porto

Driving in Portugal was one of those things where little preparation bit me in the butt. The road map I bought at a street vendor in Lisbon was horrible and streets were not really well signposted. From Lisbon to Porto on the Autostrada is about a three hour drive. So I thought taking a detour along the coast can’t be thaat much longer. Oh boy was I wrong. I wanted to spend two nights out in the hammock on the way to Porto. I didn’t expect to be driving almost all of those two days (including side detours voluntary and involuntary). Looking back I don’t know why I didn’t even ask google on the matter. If I do now, it tells me that those three hours become eight. I don’t have any regrets though. I had reasons for my decisions at any given time and I encountered beautiful places and wonderful people along the way.


I had some memorable stops. One of them I already showed.

The drive on my second day was characterized by beautiful coastal views and many little towns and villages. I had dinner in one of them with the sun in my face, a beautiful view of the Atlantic and a nice chat with two teenagers from the Netherlands. Searching for a good spot for the night wasn’t so easy but in the end I found a quiet dead end in a wealthy people’s neighbourhood that led to cliffs covered in dune and shrub vegitation. There I found a spot between two dune pines that felt really cozy and private. Just as I had set up my camp and was about to check out the beach, I saw some dark clouds coming in. So no beach for me – instead 45 minutes of struggeling with my tarp (for the first time) and strings and finding anchors. After that all urge of exploring was gone and I wrapped myself in my hammock with my book while listening to the ocean.

The next morning I would have been able to see the ocean, only if it wouldn’t have been hiding in a wall of white – low clouds and fog were melting together and gave me another hazy morning. I packed up and left. At a little beach town I stopped for some breakfast and had a nutella banana crêpe, while watching the people at the beach. They didn’t seem to care much about the weather – holidays are holidays, beach is beach. Or maybe they knew it would be better soon. After that and a morning toilete break I hit the road again. Around noon the clouds started burning off, just in time for a road sign telling me about a “lago” (lake). After some frustrations had accumulated – driving a lot, searching for a place for the night, setting up a tarp for the first time, poor weather… – I was in need for balancing out my mood and decided to check out this lake. I found exactly what I needed – the sun just coming out, a beautiful, tranquil, little lake set in the middle of a pine forest, happy locals and a small beach. Everyone was at ease and I enjoyed watching a passionate dad play with his daughters. I went for a short swim – the first in Portugal, read a few pages and fell asleep. When I woke up I felt rejuvenated and energized and was ready to hit the road again.

I continued my way north and stopped where I felt like it. Among the stops: a river mouthing into the sea with giant sand dunes next to it, enjoyed by many and a look out overlooking a lush sea of green. For a short way I picked up two hitch hikers who were travelling with a tent along the coast.

After getting lost and being very confused in Portos traffic, I arrived in this second biggest city of Portugal in the early evening. I was welcomed by my host and his dog…

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This place … magical … from getting there to leaving in a thousand different ways

Praia do Seixo – August 2016

When I think back to it; when I look at the pictures my heart is full of so many emotions it is hard to find words for the memories and pictures, still I will try

I had been driving along the coast, searching for a place to stay for the night. As I wanted to sleep in my hammock, I needed trees and so far there simply had been non. I was getting a bit frustrated but then – just some kilometres behind the little touristic beach town of Santa Cruz, was a little pine forest between the road and the coast. I had a look and found a tent and VW bus parked in the forest as well. This seemed like the spot. I walked up to the guy with the VW and asked him if he was planning to stay for the night – always good to check out the neighbours. He said yes, he was French and seemed nice. I drove down to the end of the road – the coast was right there a beach as well and headed back to the town to get some groceries. On the way out the French guy was waiting for me on the side of the dirt road. He invited me to have dinner with him – lovely. I said yes and went shopping.
After I got back and had set up camp, I went down to the beach… it was nothing short of stunning – beautiful weather, some locals enjoying themselves and I had a blast taking many, many pictures – of waves, rocks, dunes, people…
At the end of the beach I found a local man and his son fishing. He was trying to tell me that I reached the end and I tried to ask him where the path back up the cliffs was. They packed up and accompanied me. The dad was excited to show and explain to me the beauty of our surroundings. The son was slighlty annoyed/embarassed by his chatty dad and having to translate with the little English, school had managed to get into him. They were lovely people, helpful and friendly. The dad seemed excited to have someone who listened and showed me some pictures he had taken.

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After that exploring and picture trip and that wonderful encounter, it was time for dinner and I joyned the Frenchman. He had already prepared everything and we had rice, with fresh homegrown tomatoes, some fish and rosé wine which apparently was from his Marseilles property. Everything was deliscious. After we finished he offered really old rum and a joint. The evening was only getting better. We spent some hours drinking, smoking and talking. The guy had seen stuff and a few times I wondered how much of his tale was actually true. In the end it didn’t matter. He was an interesting guy who had had a moved life. He had been a captain and spent 30 years on the oceans of the world.  He had worked for Gaddafi who – according to him – had been a good guy. Now he was making money with self storage, living on his whine property in Marseilles and travelling the world. His bus was a new t5 with 4 wheel drive and all the amenities that you could imagine. After his trip through Portugal he wanted to ship it to Australia and go on a road trip there. With rising alcohol level his English got worse and he was starting to get a bit frisky. During a toilete break I noticed that I as well wasn’t quite able to walk straight anymore and decided it was time to go on an adventure. He invited me to sleep in his bus if it would be too cold in my hammock – “I’m a gentleman, I wouldn’t touch you” – I wasn’t so conviced and thanked him for the offer. We agreed to meet for breakfast and off I went.
I was ecstatic – drunk and high I was excited to go on a nighttime adventure in the dunes and on the beach. I spent some time listening to music and to my thoughts, writing some of them down, while sitting in the dunes. Afterwards I spent about two more hours playing around on the beach, walking through the surf and climbing around on the rocks. I was left with a little memory – a bloody toe, which I didn’t notice until the next day.
I had a good sleep between the pine trees, in my hammock until I woke up early in the morning with sprinkles of rain in my face. Grumpy and still tired I hopped to the car while still in my sleeping back and gave a wave to the Frenchman who was already up. I slept for 2 more hours in the back seat. When I woke up my neighbour had already left and the weather was still gnarly. I packed and drove out to the cliffs where I had breakfast, sitting on the cliffs, watching the ocean. Afterwards I made my way down to the beach where I found green glowing, algea covered rocks, exposed through the low tide and locals searching for clams. I had a blast capturing the strange formations and watching the locals. Approximately 100 pictures later the clouds were slowly burnd off by the sun and I felt a deep peace and slumber coming over me. I layed down on the soft sand a quickly fell asleep.

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Lisboa

After this trip being in the making for so long, I was really excited to finally get out travelling again. Not just had I been longing to go to Portugal for quite a while, this was also the first time to really hit the road, after exploring the eastcoast of the USA in 2012. My everyday life as a primary school teacher didn’t give me much room to prepare so I left with few plans and some ideas. By now I have come to accept this as a way of travelling for myself: very little preparation but once I get there I am there fully – inhaling the country, the culture, the people and my fellow travellers.

I started my trip in the iconic capital – Lisboa, or Lisbon, Lissabon…
I had booked a dorm bed in hostel in the old part of town called Alfama. To get there I had to carry my slightly heavy and bulky bag up some nice steep hills.  Drenched in sweat I got to Alfama patio hostel. I was welcomed and checked in by very friendly staff and moved in to my very own bunk bed. I had booked a dorm with an ensuit bathroom which left me wondering how anyone taller than me was able to sit on that toilette. The rest of the hostel was very cozy, with hammocks and bean bags to hang out in and a roof space with a wonderful view. The inhabitants were very invting and I quickly found interesting and very friendly people to chat with – two Germans who had been travelling the coast in a tent, a girl from Australia who was enjoying her last days in Europe and some American girls who I ended up spending the evening with. Before I had a great three course dinner though that was served for everyone who wanted for something like 3€.
A group of 5 we left the hostel and visited a nearby lookout point were we enjoyed the sunset views and some wine – classy straight from the bottle. Afterwards we took an Über (my first time ever, how exciting) and went to the part of town were the action. Restaurant next to bar, next to restaurant this place was truely bustling with everything you could imagine – Portuguese food, Brazilian drinks, Jazz music… We hopped a few locations, having a drink and short dance in a Brazilian bar, another drink at a Jazz bar accompanied by some life music. In the meantime I learned some things about my companions – strong, independent women, passionate and keen. Good times. At some point we had a pizza stop and soon after we ran into a bar crawl organized from a different hostel. We talked to some of the people, shared a few more drinks. But after travelling, arriving, meeting many people I was getting tired and the others weren’t that energetic anymore either. In the end we all went back together and I had a wonderful sleep in my bunk bed.

The next morning I wanted to go on a walking tour offered by the hostel. Only, being me, I didn’t leave in time, didn’t quite go into the right direction and missed the tour. Oh well, I had my lonely planet and maybe it was nice to explore by myself instead of more people and many informations.

Lisbon showed me its beauty – a bustling place with a nice breeze and wonderful sunshine. As most every capital there are lots of tourists swarming around the main attractions. For example the old tram line 28 seems so attractive that people que up for a ride in a way that makes you think they are giving out free ice cream. For me it was enough to take a picture of said que and the tram. After walking around the inner city, I made it to a big, green and peaceful park – Parque Eduardo VII. I found a little coffee and food place called Central Parque that soon turned out to be favoured by the locals. I overheard a man and woman speaking English and asked if I could join them. In tow they had a little boy. It turned out to be one of the most memorable encounters of my travels.

Their names were Gwen, Philip and Simon. Gwen and Philip had met a long time ago in Mexico and since been friends. Gwen didn’t own a cellphone, Philip told me. He would get a call out of the blue from an unknown number and hear Gwen’s voice “I’m coming to visit.” Gwen was from San Francisco where she was living on a boat. Now retired she had been a doctor, working in the emergency room. She was a free spirit. She loved Mexico and was there for several months every year. She would also go into the South American rainforest and give medical support to the indigenous people. They were living on oil rich land and apparently the oil companies weren’t aloud to go in as long as tribes were living there – solution: get rid of them with bullets shot from helicopters. Philip also told me that Gwen was a healer and very gifted. I asked her about my cracking jaw and she told me it stems from the anger towards my dad. I said that I felt like I wasn’t angry at my dad anymore and she answered it was already leaving me and at age 32 would be gone completely.
Philip was part of the royal Portuguese family and musician. He put his CD on in the coffee place – instrumental music with wonderful vibes from instruments he had made with his own hands.
We talked about life, magic, ayuahska, politics…
Simon was a sweet and gentle kid who loved football.
I gave my number to Gwen. She wanted to be in Berlin soon, visiting and staying with some South American DJs whom she wanted to introduce me to “You’ll like each other.” I never received that call, maybe I will some day. I tried to find out more about the three but the information I had were too little. (However there are information on the exploitation of indigenous people in South America over oil and the situation is horendous.)
In either way I am greatful I met those inspiring people and for a fantastic meal (at first I only had ice cream but when I saw the salad with fish they got, I had to get one too) and a beautiful spot.

Lisboa… a beautiful place with many things to give – beautiful locals, interesting travellers, small artisan stores, great food and steap, steap hills to train it off afterwards.

I left the city by an Über drive to the airport to pick up my rental. The guy was incredibly nice who gave me his card and told me to call if I ever needed help while in Portugal. Another first glimpse of the wonderful spirit of the Portuguese people.

 

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the que for tram line 28
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here it is, the object of longing

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Rossio

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Parque Eduardo VII
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Old and New

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Assembleia da República

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Ponte 25 de Abril
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Miradouro de Santa Catarina

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Cais das Colunas
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Praça do Comércio
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Ministério do Mar
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Arco da Rua Augusta
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Sé de Lisboa
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Portugal’s beautiful tile art
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Igreja de São Vicente de Fora and Igreja de Santa Engrácia

 

Death

Someone I knew died.
Were we close? I don’t know. Not really…. Hm. It’s always surreal to be confronted with death.

I met family Tingey when they welcomed me into their home and lives through couchsurfing. Theresa, a powerful mother and woman, picked me up from the bus station and brought me to her sister’s house to celebrate her birthday.
The Tingey home was a stunning place – a place with an eye for detail, a place where people know how to enjoy life, a place full of love. A trampolin next to the pool gave a glimpse into the adventure life of some of the family members. Also interesting stories of ramps built to jump over the driveway on a motorbike and my very first encounter with a homemade potato cannon.
Josh – one of four sons – took me up a mountain. I visited waterfalls with his beautiful girlfriend, Bex and the three of us went to the local saltwater hot pools. Josh offered to give me a lift north, together with his granny and a friend of hers. On the way we had blueberry pancakes and they didn’t let me pay.
After we parted, Josh and me stayed in touch. He was always there to help.

I was there for his 21st birthday with all his family and friends. I went on a trip with him and a few other wonderful people to a little bay in the northern sounds of New Zealand’s south island.

In New Zealand I really understood that there is no point in fearing death. That it’s about knowing the risks, knowing yourself and enjoying life – every moment – as much as you can.
Josh was most definitely a part of that. During his 21st birthday he had a broken colar bone from a motorbike accident. He loved extreme sports.  He was always out, always doing crazy stuff, always craming in activities.
I read a facebook post from Bex. They had gotten engaged 7 weeks ago. I thought I was reading a wedding vow. Then I realized it was not…
Last week Josh had crushed into a cliff while paragliding. He was 28.

Death is inevitable. It can come anywhere at any time in any form. Fearing it will enslave us to a life in fear. Instead, embrace it, love life, live it.

Someone I knew died.
Were we close? We were friends.
Closeness and friendship aren’t determined by the time you spent with another. My tears tell me the answer.

I know that everything is in balance. So I know that this tragedy will bring many little moments of happiness and joy. I can already see it, in the loving words of Josh’s friends and family who celebrate this guy and his life.

I raise my glass to you, Josh. You were a king amongst men. You are an inspiration.

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New York, New York

October (December) 2016

(Deutsch am Ende)

Tommy was working in New York and of course I got to visit this city of cities. It were the October holidays and I enjoyed slowing down from work, lively Brooklyn and of course Manhatten.
I enjoyed the Brooklyn vibes – diverse crowd, cool little shops and a tranquil, yet busy giant park (prospect park). A beautiful and hot left-over of summer, just when I got there made it all the more charming but the slowly creeping in fall colours were pretty stunning as well.
Manhatten is all you think it is. I was surprised that not just the glass covered sky scrapers where super tall but every single building – even the “old” ones. The place is constantly buzzing with people of all sorts. It was a bit overwhelming but certainly an interesting and mesmerizing experience.

In December I took a short trip to New York on a long weekend. One of my most memorable travel experiences took place then and went as follows:

I had a 45 minute layover in – I believe it was Munich. Those of you who have flown and have enjoyed layovers, know that 45 minutes is a very sporty thing but I knew what I was expecting and was up for the challenge. So I was speedwalking through the terminals, following sings, all in good (but little) time and I get to the consortment of gates where my flight to New York should take of from. On the desk were three black ladies (seemingly US American). When you go to the USA you often have to answer questions before entering the flight. So this went down as follows:

Ladies: “Who packed your luggage?”
Me: “I did.”
Ladies: “was it ever unsupervised.”
Me: “no”
Ladies: “How long will you be staying in the USA?”
Me: “Just for the Weekend.”
Ladies: “WHAT??? Do you have a boyfriend there?”
Me: “Yes.”
Ladies: “Who payed for the flight?”
Me “he did.”
Ladies errupting in happy cheers and laughter: “You go girl!”, giving me a high five.

Also on this weekend I saw the legendary Coca Cola truck and took a shitty cellphone picture of it that I will spare you. The rest of the time was spent in Brooklyn, enjoying being together, enjoying quite time and Prospect Park.
If you consider a short trip like this, I would recommend having at least 4 days, as a considerable amount will be travelling. Still if airports and flights (and jetlag) aren’t so stressful for you, it is definitely doable.

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Manhattan
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there she is, in the distance…
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Brooklyn Bridge

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I can see why she gets more photographed from the other side
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Manhattan Bridge
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Manhattan
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Central Park
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Central Park
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Central Park
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Bibo
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Central Park
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Central Park
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Oculus
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Oculus
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Ground Cero

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One World Trade center

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Brooklyn
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sunny Prospect Park
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more sun in Prospect Park
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I found a steaming pile of organic waste
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Prospect Park sunsets

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Prospect Park Inhabitants
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Grand Army Plaza

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a woman with a cat back pack

 

Oktober (December) 2016

Tommy arbeitete in New York und so kam ich natürlich auch dazu dieser Stadt der Städte einen (zwei) Besuche abzustatten. Es waren die Oktoberferien und ich genoss es von der Arbeit runterzukommen, das lebhafte Brooklyn zu erkunden und natürlich Manhattan!
Ich genoss die Vibes in Brooklyn, diverse und vielfältige Menschen, niedliche, kleine Shops und einen friedvollen, trotzdem geschäftigen, riesigen Park (Prospect Park). Ein wunderschönes, heißes Überbleibsel des Sommers, gleich zu meiner Ankunft, machte das Ganze noch charmanter, aber auch die sich langsam anschleichenden Herbstfarben waren nicht weniger schön.

Manhattan ist alles, was man sich so vorstellt. Ich war überrascht, dass nicht nur die in Glas gehüllten Wolkenkratzer riesengroß sind, sondern tatsächlich jedes Haus – sogar die vermeintlich “alten”. Manhattan ist fortwärend am vibrieren mit Menschen aller Art. Es war schon manchmal etwas überfordernd aber auf jeden Fall eine faszinierende und spannende Erfahrnung.

Im Dezember machte ich mich ein zweites Mal auf in die große Stadt, diesmal für ein langes Wochenende.
Dabei ereignete sich eine meiner einprägsamsten Reisebegebenheiten:

Auf dem Weg nach New York, hatte ich einen 45 Minuten Zwischenstopp in – ich glaube es war – München. Für diejenigen, die schon das ein oder andere Mal mit dem Flugzeug gereist sind und in den Genuss einer Zwischenlandung kamen, wissen dass 45 Minuten eine sportliche Unternehmung ist. Aber ich wusste was mich erwartet und war bereit für die Herausforderung. So powerwalkte ich durch die Terminals – Schildern folgend – alles in guter (wenn auch knapper) Zeit und komme an der Ansammlung von Gates, von wo auch mein Flug gehen sollte, an. Am Schalter stehen drei schwarze Frauen, (scheinbar US Amerikanerinnen). Wenn man in die USA reist, wird man bevor man in den Flieger steigt oft befragt. So ereignete sich Folgendes:

Ladies: “Wer hat dein Gepäck gepackt?”
Me: “Ich.”
Ladies: “War es jemals unbeaufsichtigt?”
Me: “Nein”
Ladies: “Wie lange bleibst du in den USA?”
Me: “Nur über das Wochenende.”
Ladies: “WAS??? Hast du da einen Freund?”
Me: “Ja.”
Ladies: “Wer hat den Flug bezahlt?”
Me “Er.”
Die Ladies brechen in fröhliches Jubeln und Lachen aus: “You go girl!”, und geben mir eine High Five.

An diesem Wochenende sah ich auch den legendären Coca Cola truck und machte ein wenig reizendes Handybild von ihm, was ich euch erspare. Der Rest der Zeit wurde in Brooklyn verbracht, im Genuss des Zusammensein, der Ruhe und von Prospect Park.

Solltest du je einen kurzen Trip wie diesen in Erwägung ziehen, würde ich empfehlen, midestens vier Tage einzuplanen, da die Reise selbst einiges an Zeit in Anspruch nimmt. Nichtsdestotrotz, wem Flughäfen, fliegen (und Jetlag) nicht zu sehr zu schaffen macht, für den ist das auf jeden Fall machbar.