Cheaper by the Dozen

Now here’s something you should know about me, and it will explain my WordPress moniker: I am one of seven sisters. The reason I feel compelled to post this today is because three sisters were born in the month of March. Here’s to them! As soon as I get my Flickr account figured out, I intend to upload photos to this space and display vintage photos of my sisters and our cousins. We also have five brothers. And innumerable cousins.  An even dozen children in the family. I read recently in a pamphlet that I picked up at the cathedral in Speyer that the number twelve is the symbol of perfection. There are twelve months in the year, twelve signs to the zodiac, twelve disciples in the bible, twelve times two hours to the day. But no one has ever been able to explain how the birth order works in a family of this magnitude. We have one firstborn, one baby, and ten in the middle. Does that make us all sandwich children? I don’t think so. We were born in clusters. Or gangs.

However. In Germany, eggs are sold in cartons of ten, not twelve.

Five Things the Germans Can’t Live Without

1. Talking about their health and health problems.
2. Coffee. Best for breakfast or with cake in the afternoon. Served on Villeroy & Boch china. Only recently to go. SAP is known for its coffee corner culture, where informal meetings are held and employees have a chance to meet their colleagues over a cup of free coffee or tea. 
3. Powerful, mostly new cars. BMW, Mercedes, Audi, Jaguar – I never cease to be amazed at the overwhelming majority of brand new vehicles on the road. But the next item is partly to blame:
4. The autobahn. In 1974, Kraftwerk dedicated an album to the ribbons of highway that crisscross the country.  Tourists visit Germany just to drive the autobahn. At peak season in the summer, traffic jams of up to 79 kilometers are reported. My top speed: 190 kph.
5. The forest. From my observations, most Germans have a strong, even romantic connection to nature. A hike in the forest is for many families part of their Sunday ritual. The paths in the Odenwald above Heidelberg are made for walking or biking, and centuries-old roadmarkers guide the hikers. Today I stopped for water at a well built in 1701 that attracts pilgrims in want of fresh well water for their coffee or tea.

Easter in Italy

One of the perks of working in Germany are the 30 days of paid vacation that most full-time employees are entitled to every year. And one of the advantages of living in Heidelberg is its proximity to sexier places like France and Italy. From where we live, it is an hour to Alsace. And just a few hours to Lausanne in Switzerland, or to Como, in northern Italy, where we recently visited good friends for Easter. At least once a year I need to leave Germany. It does wonders for the soul to spend just a few days in another country. We had Easter brunch on a boat that drove around Lake Geneva as we feasted on salmon mousse, rack of lamb with sprigs of rosemary, wine, strong coffee, and a deadly chocolate dessert. On Easter Monday, we took a the long and winding road to Como, a journey that lasted several hair-raising hours as we snaked along narrow roads in the alps. In Italy, we stayed with our friends at their weekend house where I sat in the strong afternoon sun reading my novel, protected from the chilly wind by the veranda and blankets. This combination of blazing sun with frosty air is delicious and so typical of the alps at this time of year. For breakfast and tea we ate colomba – the Easter “dove” – a soft, yeasty cake plump with eggs and butter, and studded with candied peel.

Where else in the world can you buy one of a series of art books with each edition of the Saturday paper (Corriere della sera) for an extra 15 euros? Our friends had collected the lot. The most recent hardcover focused on 50s art – Franz Kline, Willem de Kooning, Jim Dine, Mark Rothko, and Helen Frankenthaler were some of the names I saw.

 

While in Como we took another boat to visit the town of Torno, where we have often stayed at the Hotel Vapore. At this time of year there are only a few tourists staying at the B&B in the village square. In summer the village has more to offer. The first time we stayed at the Hotel Vapore, we awoke to open the shutters and discover that we had a fantastic view of the lake.

A Virgin Blog

I love notebooks of all kinds and have always kept a diary. But for years, I haven’t had whatever it takes – visits from the muse, or time — to write in a diary. And as I got older, it began to feel a bit naff. But I always took notes whenever on trips abroad. These however are scattered in the many small notebooks that I have archived in boxes and trunks in the basement and attic. And a growing collection of lovely, virgin notebooks is awaiting my return to diary writing. Beginning a new notebook was always a bit intimidating, like this blog. So bear with me.