May 29, 2014 - Cologne

Leaving Prague the same way I came, my return bus trip to Nuremburg was nice. The bus was twice as large (two levels) and very nearly empty. I slept as much as I could, still being tired from visiting with Theo and Thomas until early in the morning. My final destination for the day would be Cologne, in northwest Germany, a city which I had not heard much about but seemed interesting and was within the limits of my rail pass.

Backtracking just a bit, before I left for this trip I had been told by WorkART fellows from previous years that hostels and couch-surfing were the best options if you wanted to travel Europe on a budget. Although I did not know anyone in Cologne, I decided to try my luck with CouchSurfing.org, a commonly used website for young travellers who are comfortable with a little discomfort. I made my profile while in Berlin and contacted a few people; received a few “sorry, no”s and only one yes. A young guy named Adrian accepted my request and we started correspondence to arrange my stay of two nights. Everything seemed to just fall into place, with the exception of one slight hitch that could have been a complete meltdown.

I did not have a reservation for the train from Nuremburg to Cologne, which didn’t concern me much until I realized I was on the wrong one, heading somewhere else. Luckily, my intuition kicked in at just the right moment and I was able to avert disaster by getting off at Wurzburg and waiting for another train bound for Cologne. I was supposed to meet Adrian at 4:30, and because I had planned ahead to arrive early this hitch would not make me late. I arrived in Cologne at 4:20 and made my way on foot to our designated meeting point and Cologne’s most famous attraction, the Cologne Dom. I would save my exploration of it until the next day.

As it was, Adrian was a little late as well. It wasn’t until 5:30 that we finally met. From there, my experience in Cologne was absolutely enchanting. Adrian and I hit it off immediately. Within minutes of meeting we each had a Kölsch in hand and were on our way to his place via the local train system.

When I first contacted Adrian his profile online said the he lived near the city center, but during our emails he mentioned that he had since moved and now lives in a wagon community surrounding a small garden. All the variables of this particular situation had me both slightly concerned and very interested. When we arrived I was not only pleasantly surprised, I was delighted. The small plot of land housed 6 wagons, a hand-built outhouse, and an outside kitchenette. Planters were strewn everywhere with peculiar decorations and art mixed throughout. Their lifestyle is so warm and inviting, and coupled with the damp, overcast weather, I knew right then that I had come to a place as close to the Eugene lifestyle as anywhere I could find during my time in Europe. The only way I could see it was that my luck just keeps getting better and better, and my trip is getting more and more unique.

I was given a wagon of my own to stay in; very basic but certainly comfortable and spacious enough for one or even two people. Also living in one of the wagons was Astrid, a sweet Romanian photographer and actress. Their hospitality was incredibly inviting and I knew I would not want to leave as soon as I knew I had to.

My first night in Cologne we went to the university and met with Adrian’s friend Cornelius, a photographer and anthropology major. We discussed politics and the recent elections in Europe, which saw the Pro NRW (Nazi) party take a significant blow in terms of public support. Him and I talked intensely for probably an hour about many things, including the military, politics in the US and internationally, and travel. Although the night had to end sometime, he was one of many people I would meet in the next 36 hours that I wish I could have gotten to know better.

The next day I went into Cologne and visited the sites that were recommended to me by Astrid and Adrian. I had coffee and lunch at Café Duddel near the university, a quaint little diner with couches, good food, nice servers, and wifi. Afterwards I returned to the Cologne Dom. I’ve seen plenty of cathedrals throughout all the art history courses I’ve taken, and most are very similar. One thing struck me here though, and that was a large window on the south side of the building that just didn’t fit the mold. I had my assumptions about it and then decided to ask one of the priests who worked there why it was so different.

“This window was the only damage caused to the cathedral during the war”, he said. “After 1945 the replacement window was clear glass, until the artist Gerhard Richter was asked to make a new one in 2002, finished in 2008.” I was impressed not necessarily with the work, but with the willingness of the church to accept a modern design and not immediately recreate the original design, which would have been my assumption for such a tourist attraction. I’ve since learned that the cardinal for the Cologne Cathedral was displeased with Richter’s window, saying that it fit better in a mosque or other prayer house. I, on the other hand, approve. It certainly does not distract from the beauty or history of the impressive architecture.

When Adrian and I got to know each other a little better we talked a bit about my interest in history, the military, and to learn the realities of Europe and not just it’s tourist attractions. He suggested I visit a place called the EL-DE Haus near the Cologne Dom. It is a museum, conserving the former Cologne Gestapo prison, interrogation, and execution center. Every day that I’ve travelled here I’ve made myself open to accepting the best and the worst of reality and history. This place was moving; haunting actually. To walk the halls alone and read the stories was intense – I ran my hand along the stuccoed brick, imagining the experiences contained there, the writing of the inmates, still legible, resonating deeply. The basement floors, especially the courtyard where over 400 prisoners were executed, brought a silent tear to my eye. I walked the short hallway slowly, their final walk, and pressed the pain into my gut with every step.

I returned to the circle of wagons and helped Astrid prepare for the evening. Adrian had invited a number of friends over for an evening of drinks and tacos by the campfire and I was the guest of honor. Mexican by heritage, Adrian’s goal is to open Germany’s first authentic taco stand. Recently he purchased an entire setup for this venture for only 3000 euros, and this night was it’s maiden voyage. He cooked seitan with onions, black beans, soy sauce, fresh coriander, and a spicy chili sauce. I continued to meet wonderful people as we were introduced and carried on conversations about art, building houses, cooking, journalism, and more. His circle of friends seemed straight out of Eugene, endearing them to me quickly.

The night kept on as such, eventually relaxing around the fire while Adrian played ukulele and Astrid played the drums. They sang an improvised song, thanking me for coming and staying with them… as long as I liked his tacos. I didn’t want the night to end, so as I watched the clock wind into the morning I kept finding reasons to stay up. When the last guest left around 1 AM I decided to head to bed, only to be coaxed into one more beer with Adrian. We talked about couch surfing, the philosophy of being kind and paying-it-forward, the difficulties and intricacies of minimalist art and the right questions to ask when interpreting such works. Before I knew it my alarm rang, set to wake me up and pack for my next trip.  Somberly I returned to my trailer and gathered my belongings. Adrian and I shared a few long hugs and promises to meet again. I told him it was now my goal to have him visit Oregon, to show him around, give him some great pacific northwest beer, and share conversations with my friends and family. Kindred souls, to be sure.

To Adrian, Astrid, Cornelius, Lena, Anoushka, Liza, Askar, Vila, Robert, Toby, Peter, and everyone else who made Cologne such a special stay for me, thank you so much. 

May 27, 2014 - Prague

Leaving Berlin made me a bit nervous. I was setting out into Europe completely alone, to a country that I did not know a single word of the language. I had stopped in Prague once before, heading home from my first deployment, though we were not allowed to get off the plane. This would be my chance to return on my terms, and I wanted it to be a triumphant one.

The trip there involved a train to Nuremburg and then a bus to Prague. While on the train I stopped in the lounge and had a beer, meeting a nice German character named Uwe and a couple guys who were clearly in the US military. Our meeting was pretty casual, but it was my first real conversation with strangers during travels where one of my goals was to reach out to others. Almost as soon as we started to get to know each other I had to get back to my seat, pack my things, and then transfer to the bus. We had arrived in Nuremburg.

The bus proved to be more comfortable than I imagined, even considering that there wasn’t a single empty seat. Next to me was a very nice Czech lady named Helen. We immediately started a conversation about traveling, Prague, and the United States. As we got to the border and then when we got closer to the city she would point things out to me that she suggested I see. I knew that Prague was a major tourist destination in Europe, and there was no lack of advice from her. Her suggestions were all welcome however, and she eased a bit of my concern of being in a new, strange city all alone.

My hostel was only a 5-minute walk from the station and easy to find, which was a part of my plan. I wanted to find my base as soon as possible. Hostel Rosemary proved to be a great choice. They were very nice and accommodating of my late arrival and eventual early morning departure. It was my first time staying in a hostel actually, and I found my entire experience there pleasurable. After dropping off my things I immediately left to find dinner.

The streets of Prague are not very organized, to say the least, but I found that to be part of its old-world charm. The architecture is beautiful, as there are sights to see around every corner. It is a very small city, in terms of the tourist-y destinations, which has its benefits and problems. I feel like I saw everything I wanted in a very short time, though the elbow-to-elbow crowds were frustrating at times. There were only a few places to see on my list while in Prague, and in no particular order I began by just walking out of the hostel and going where the city wanted to take me. Starting toward the city center, I first wandered into the Dali and Mucha Museum. Every art student is very familiar with the works of these men, but seeing them in person left an impression that I did not anticipate. The Dali collection was great, but it was Mucha’s giant lithographs that took my breath away. Understanding the intense processes of the medium and then to see it on the scale of which he worked made my jaw drop over and over again. I exited the museum feeling meek and under-dedicated to my practice in comparison to these masters, having to remind myself that I just reviewed pretty much their entire life’s work in order to shake the feeling.

Now back in the sea of people, I followed the herd toward the Charles Bridge, possibly the most photographed site in Prague. I somewhat could not understand why this is, but figured that there was something about the history I did not know. Immediately on the east side of the bridge I saw a sign that said “City Gallery” and so decided to take refuge from the swarm with the hopes of looking at some more art in a decidedly less crowded space. Although they did not take euros and I had no Czech crowns on hand, the nice lady at the front provided me a ticket for free. I am so lucky she did.

It turned out to not be a gallery, per se, but a very historic site exhibited by the city gallery: The Colloredo-Mansfeld Palace. Parts were fairly run-down, empty satellite rooms with cracked paint on the walls and squeaky floorboards. The information provided by the gallery painted a marvelous picture of the officials who once lived there, the wealthy elite of a very powerful city. As I continued on the story grew more fantastic, eventually arriving at the crown jewel – the ballroom. Mind you that as soon as I walked into the building I was alone. Not a single other person on the busy streets decided that this old, dilapidated building was worth their time to see -a travesty, in my opinion, because I found it absolutely magical. The story continued to unfold, about fantastic masquerade balls, attended by kings and queens, performances by Mozart, the ceiling fresco painted by Giovanni Battista. It was dead silent, but my imagination filled the space with the energy that must have stirred that space in centuries past. I had to take a picture. This one’s for you, Calvin.

After leaving the palace I crossed the Charles Bridge heading west towards the Prague Castle and St. Vitus Cathedral. To reiterate my earlier statement, Prague’s charm lies firmly in its architectural achievements and their incredible preservation. Growing up and living in the United States, there is no opportunity to experience anything like these monuments unless you travel far and seek them out. I am so lucky to have had this opportunity. The list would only continue to grow. St. Nicholas Church(es - there are two in Prague), the gorgeous astronomical clock, the Powder Tower, the National Theater… I’ve lost track of them all.

One site I visited stood out as a particular oddity. The Dancing House, designed by famed architect Frank Gehry, is a polarizing building for the people of Prague. The contemporary design that is a signature of Gehry’s stands in stark opposition to the rest of the city’s design. Inside held some amazing artwork, something I took notice of there being a lot of in Prague. The contemporary work being done there is an interesting counter-balance for the very visible history that draws much of the tourism. It created a dichotomy that is unresolved in some ways, although I think I like it that way and would prefer it not be. Too much history gets old sometimes, pun not intended, and it was refreshing to see a vibrant art community that isn’t completely caught up in its past. 

 
My two days in Prague were consumed by walking, seeing art/architecture, eating authentic regional food, and drinking lots of great beer – par for the course so far on this trip. I enjoyed Prague very much; save for the endless mass of tourists and the prevalent consumer culture that inevitably accompanies it. I acknowledge that in fact I was just another one of those tourists though, but will remember most fondly the moments of relative solitude where I was able to gain perspective on this and thereby separate myself from the pack.

The night before I left I spent in my hostel kitchen, sharing tea and conversation with two young gentlemen from Lyon, France, Theo and Thomas. It is the unexpected connections between strangers that seem to be making this trip unique and special for me. I remember thinking this before falling asleep, not realizing just how salient the observation would become in the following days as I would continue my journey back to Germany the following morning. I took the bus to Nuremburg at dawn.

May 24, 2014 - Berlin

The last 6 days have been pretty exhausting, and for all the right reasons.

I landed in Berlin and my immediate goal was to find internet. After a bit of a struggle with the only wifi I could reliably find (at a Starbucks, no less) I was able to figure out directions to my friend Gabe's apartment. We met up in the afternoon and I was able to get my bearings on the city. His internet connection was great, exactly what I needed in order to plan the following days and weeks. That night we had some burgers for dinner, hung out in the park by the canal, and played a little ping-pong. We caught up over some beers, generally kept it mellow for the evening as I was dead tired from a long flight. I slept about 12 hours that night. A partially inflated air mattress has never been so comfortable.

The next day I didn't waste any time. Firstly, the U-Bahn in Berlin is fantastic. Clean, efficient, reliable - everything it isn't in New York. I can't say my experience there didn't help me in Berlin, but there is a marked difference between the two. I rode it just about everywhere I went and loved it. Berlin 1, New York 0.

My first stop was Museuminsel, literally, an island of museums. I hit the Altes Museum, Pergamon, Museum, and the Neues Museum, all in a row. Fantastic. I normally am not too interested in historic works like the ones that fill these famous halls, but something was quite different this time and I quickly determined what it was. The perspective that one gets when surrounded by works and architecture that predates your home nation by many centuries is unique and one that would regularly jump to the front of my mind in the following days. I'm pretty sure I've been standing/walking with my mouth agape thinking about this and other things constantly since I arrived.

The next day, I continued to explore Berlin, but kept my schedule a little less structured. I knew I wanted to see the wall, particularly the East Side Gallery, but found myself wandering after I stopped to change trains on the U-Bahn. I found a nice park with some trails. Green spaces can be found almost everywhere in Berlin, and because the weather had just recently gotten sunny and warm the population was starting to get out and enjoy them when I arrived. Berlin 2, New York 0. I walked a bit, drank some coffee, and stumbled upon the Deutsches Technikmuseum. I didn't expect to be that interested, but I wanted to see where the city decided to take me, and this place certainly grabbed a hold. I love machines, for sure, and this place had them in spades. It's hard to say what was my favorite part of the museum, maybe the printing presses, maybe the model boats, maybe the aircraft exhibits. There was so much to see that I spent 4 hours there without realizing it.

It was my last full day in Berlin and I still had to see the wall. I know it's a super-touristy thing, but the East Side Gallery killed two birds with one stone: gain some perspective on history and culture and see art. "The largest and longest-lasting open air gallery in the world" was a trip. The work was very street-arty but imbued with such a heavy sense of history that it was impossible to ignore even the most banal of sections. I left emotionally and physically exhausted. On the way back to Gabe's I stopped to grab a beer in the park (you can drink in public - Berlin 3, New York 0) and reflected on my short time there. Berlin restored my faith in what a large city can offer. Affordability, culture, a generally relaxed atmosphere, and great beer. Although I still think that my happiness is best found in the country, I certainly will be returning at some point.

I left the next morning and boarded a train, bound for Prague.

May 20, 2014 - Goodbye America

Today I begin a new adventure.

36,000 feet in the air and 3000 miles from my destination, the range of emotions I am feeling is tremendous. I am excited for the many opportunities I will have over the next two months; to travel, meet new friends, gain valuable worldly experience, and see an incredible array of artwork is a dream come true and something I knew would happen sooner or later. But I hate goodbyes, and traveling alone to new places can be quite nerve-racking. I already miss home, my fiancé and family, but at the same time I can’t wait to get started on this incredible opportunity and soak in as much as possible.

My first stop is Berlin, where I will stay for a few days. With everything that the city has to offer, I doubt I will stay put for long. My new acquaintances seated next to me have been generous with their help and suggestions, which I am very grateful for. Traveling without a phone or reliable internet seems primitive nowadays, if not downright frightening, but I think I can get by with small tidbits of assistance from kind strangers.

I arrive at 8 am tomorrow and will hopefully meet up soon thereafter with a friend and recent Minneapolis transplant in Berlin. I am sure to spend some initial time by myself though, wandering the streets generally looking like a tourist with my bags in tow. Food and a healthy cup of coffee will be first on my agenda, preferably at a café with wifi.

From there, Berlin is my oyster.