This summer we indulged ourselves with a short visit to Europe. The Ethiopian elections were due to take place and we felt we did not need to be in Addis for that. So, we flew to Switzerland in late May where Ursula spent the first week working at the Swiss Red Cross. After that we travelled to Germany to visit Ursula’s family.
Ursula on a covered bridge over the river Aare in Bern.
We managed a couple of walks in the countryside around Bern, preparing ourselves for the walks we expected to do in Germany.
Rest stop at the Berg Hotel.
Once Ursula had finished her business in Switzerland, we took the train to Berlin to stay with Barbara and her family for a few days. By the way, we loved the train journey, 9 hours, but so relaxing. Comfortable seats, wifi, a beer or two and you arrive fully relaxed in Berlin. So much less stressful than 8 hours driving.
What many people who are not German do not realise is how much water there is in Berlin. It is almost a city of lakes and Barbara and her family live on the shores of the Schlachtensee, one of the many lakes.
Ursula being instructed on the finer points of paddle boarding by Barbara.
First instruction, then solo
Solo in the Schlachtensee
And then as a passenger.
Barbara taking Ursula on a tour of the lake.
Some of these lakes, scoured out by glaciers during the ice age, are really quite big, and boating, especially yachting, is a popular pastime/sport on these lakes.
A glorious summer day on the Wannsee.
While in Berlin, we took the opportunity of visiting Ursula’s cousin whom we had not seen for some years. They live alongside another expanse of Berlin water, the Rummelsburger See in former East Berlin.
Rummelsburger See.
It was a beautiful summer in Berlin, almost cloudless, and we had lovely relaxing time, just what we needed to recharge our batteries, and culminating in a night out at a Greek restaurant.
From Berlin we travelled west to Ursula’s home town of Lingen where we visited Ursula’s older brother, Martin. He lives in a bungalow in a small woodland, a lovely place, full of birds, and he has a chicken with two chicks.
Martin’s Westphalian chicken with her two white chicks foraging in the garden.
The chicken is a breed known as the Westphalian, but judging by the white chicks, the father is not of the same breed.
We paid our respects at the grave of Ursula’s father and mother before travelling onto Ursula’s other brother, Christian, and his wife Kiri.
With Christian and Kiri we planned to go walking in the hills and mountains of the Pfalz, where Christian had booked an apartment (the old Catholic primary school) in the village of Gräfenhausen. On the way there we stopped to stretch our legs with a short walk through the vineyards around the town of Grünstadt.
A rest stop in the vineyards of Grünstadt.
The vineyards are impressive, stretching to the horizon, a vast plain on which the only things grown are grapes, and the only serious industry is wine making.
Not sure what these ‘pill boxes’ were for, defensively, to keep the French out of Germany or the Germans out of France? There were several in the vineyards.
Our destination, Gräfenhausen lies just outside the wine growing area, where the dominant agriculture turns from grapes to other fruits. The hills are heavily wooded so that, in spite of the heat – yes, very hot and humid at this time of the year – walking was very pleasant.
Gathering our strength before starting on a walk.
Most of the forest walks are part of the pilgrim trails that criss-cross Europe and eventually end up in Spain at Santiago de Compostela. These trails run for hundreds of kilometres, winding their way up and down hill passing, through villages along the way where the pilgrims could rest and find sustenance.
And off we go through the glorious early summer green.
The older buildings in the area were built using a warm red sandstone quarried locally. It gives a lovely rich colour to the villages and towns in this part of Germany. That is one of the things that we find so lovely in Europe, the use of local stone. In France a few years ago we went through an area where all the buildings were built of a black stone; and the yellow sandstone of much of France and Spain makes it look as though the buildings have organically grown out of the hillsides.
A little church built of the red sandstone. It used to be part of a complex of an abbey and other buildings. Most of these were destroyed in religious wars, and many of the monks killed or starved to death.
One of the trails we walked on was to the Three Castles. These are the remains of three castles (naturally) positioned on the top of the hills overlooking the town of Annweiler. This walk took us up the hillside where the red sandstone was quarried well into the 20th century.
An abandoned quarry where the red sandstone was mined. The stone blocks had to be laboriously taken down to Annweiler in the valley.
Two of the three castles are little more than ruins with one tower still standing.
The one standing tower.
The red sandstone erodes into steep cliff faces and fantastically shaped free-standing pillars, some of them very tall, making for a great rock-climbing. We saw several climbers negotiating what looked like impossible overhangs.
Almost all that remains of the second castle, with the third in the background.
The third castle is still in use as an hotel and we planned to stop for a meal or at least a cup of tea there. Unfortunately. When we got there, hot, sweaty and in need of sustenance, we found that it was only open to those who had made an online booking! The impact of Covid everywhere.
The old town in Annweiler, with ducks.
On one of the trails part of it was designated as an “art trail,” most of the “art” seemed to be bucolic, rural doll’s houses, placed on top of tree stumps.
Rather twee, but perhaps it could inspire something for the children to emulate around 33 Bell Road.
Except for one, a salamander carved out of a dead tree trunk.
Technically a Fire Salamander, found in deciduous forests and on mossy tree trunks. Poisonous.
The European football competition was taking place while we were in Gräfenhausen, and of course we had to watch the German team whenever they played. After a hard day’s walking, football and beer seemed the obvious recipe for relaxation.
Chris and Chris watching Germany on a computer, not a beer in sight. I don’t know how that happened.
The Pfalz where we were staying borders on France and the food in the area benefits from both the German and French cuisines. As a result we had a couple of delicious meals in the time we were there. That is something else about Europe; wherever you go you find unpretentious little family-run restaurants tucked away so that you hardly give them a second glance, but invariably the food is delicious, usually cooked by the husband and served by the wife.
The tiny winery just round the corner from where we were staying. Smaller than most people’s bedrooms, but the outlet for the farmer who lived above and from whom we bought both wine and schnaps.
And so back to Switzerland by train. On these high speed trains a map is displayed to tell you where you are and your speed. In this case 194 km/h. (121 mph). So much faster and more relaxing than driving.
And finally back to Ethiopia and the grey, cold and wet, rainy season. At least it keeps the dust down. The elections appear to have passed off peacefully, but who knows what will happen in Tigray now. A situation best described as fragile.
Season of mists and woollen blankets.