I’ve been dying again, so y’all have to forgive me for not blogging much recently (incidentally, halfway up some mountain in Freiburg, Andy managed to convince me that we’re now going to use ‘y’all’ for the plural of ‘you group of people’ in English, if only because it’s slightly classier than ‘yooouuussee’) Anyway, back to Freiburg, which is very lovely, but also rather small. So on the third day we decided to escape to the countryside. We were headed to Titisee, but on the train overheard a fairly loud American woman telling her friends about some style of county fair near Baerental. We sneakily followed them off the train, onto another bus, and down the road: We peered at all the wares- skins and furs and honey and liquors and smoked pieces of animal, and I took up with the most amazingly invigorating (SOUR!!) plum juice that has ever passed my lips. Because the fair itself was quite small, we also roamed a bit on the moors.. It was quaint- the sort of thing you’d expect to see …

Day two in that foresty Jewel that is Freiburg. This, my friends and enemies, is Martin’s gate- one of the original entrance points into the Old City. Now also known, as a result of a beautiful salute to capitalism, as ‘McDonald’s Gate’ . Schade, but at least they didn’t put the golden arches on. Saturdays, like Mondays, Tuesdays, Thursdays, Fridays, Sundays and also Wednesdays, are Market days in the Church square. I followed my nose to the berries, and Andy followed his to a spicy sausage. This is his guarded ‘get away from my sausage’ look: They had spices and fresh fruits and dried fruits and baked goods and cured meats and all manner of things that are pretty for the eyes and tasty for my breakfast. Including some very, very tasty raw bliss balls, made from dates and figs and cashews and a little bit of cocoa, which seemed to come with obligatory ‘eye contact’- the seller was the type who stares into your souls as he serves you his produce. I wasn’t allowed to …

This week I’m attending my very first out-of-town conference. Actually, it’s technically  a ‘Summer School’, but as it includes the exchange of scientific information, and involves the spending of the intitute’s money to send me ‘away’, I’m going to call it a win. The train from Berlin to Freiburg is only about 7-8 hours, but, as it turns out, no-one in Europe expects to travel for that long, so instead I was given an Easyjet flight to the quaint Swiss-French-German ‘Euroairport’ located on the edge of the three countries. I bought an extra ticket, grabbed my Andy, and we packed ourselves off to Euroairport (physically Switzerland but somehow either that, France, or Germany, depending on which bus you get into once you exit the airport). Somehow is somehow a very German word. Freiburg is an old university town situated in the (most) south-western corner of the country on the edge of the Black forest (Schwartzwald). The city itself is not huge, but it seems to act as a gateway to both the forest- for hiking and …

You can NOT go to Hamburg without going to the Sunday morning fish market. Or at least so said my mother-in-law, again and again, until the three of us agreed that yes, Mari-Anne, waking up at 5am to get the opportunity to smell fish by 6am was actually what we really, really wanted to do while on holiday. It turned out to be rather beautiful. Beautiful enough that I’ll tell the next load who come ‘You can’t go to Hamburg without going to the fishmarket’. You all know I love early morning crispness when it’s coupled with the selling of wares. Sure, in a perfect universe they’d be selling frocks and not fish, but not every reality can be one with a fleamarket. In the centre was the market hall, complete with cover bands and folks clearly still dancing from the night before- including at least one bride and groom set.  This was my favourite spectacle of the morning. The Flowerking, who would pack boxes with house plants and ‘backwards auction’ them. They were super …

Summer in Berlin is very, very beautiful. I’m sure you’ve heard me natter on already about how Perth has bluer skies, but Berlin has greener grass (possibly in part because you’re not allowed to walk on it)- and how the Deutsch really revel in the sunshine, unlike us wossy Aussies who are busy slip-slop-slap-wrapping* (slip on a T-shirt, slop= sunscreen, slap=hat, wrap=sunnies) and scuttling around in the shadows to really get our frolic on. *Side note- I just goggled it and realised that they’ve changed it to slide (instead of wrapping the sunnies on) and seek (for the shade). Anyway, let’s check out the east of Berlin, and this lovely old couple who seem to be basking: We visited the east side gallery, which has been described by one of my german colleagues as ‘the least impressive tourist destination in Berlin’, but which is so famous that I only realised I hadn’t been in 2009 when I saw the three or four out of the 100 murals which I am not already familiar with from …