A Dedication To Frankfurt

Home is where the heart is

The bags were packed, the move has taken place, and in the space of a morning I am no longer a Frankfurt dweller. Residing in the apparently rival area of Offenbach for now, while I'm excited for what the future will bring in our eventual move to Stuttgart, my return to studies and some extensive travel in Australia and France in February, it was a little sad saying goodbye to the city I came to as a stop-gap but very quickly realised was the perfect home.

I'm going to miss so many things about Frankfurt; I'll miss Sachsenhausen and all the bars within it offering 1 euro shots, karaoke, strange Pop and Balkan parties and endless hens and bucks nights and stumbling home from it all in the early hours of the morning. I'll miss the cafes and restaurants in Bornheim that served me countless currywursts, schnitzels, chocolate ice creams and cocktails. I'll miss the Apfelwein in all of it's wonder, hot and comforting in the winter and cold and refreshing in the summer. I'll miss the fantastic skyline that the locals take such pride in and surround with buildings of historical significance to make a wonderful contrast. I'll miss the festivals every weekend for different countries that were in fact the same every time (Croatian festival! Want a wurst? American festival! Want a wurst? And so on...).

I'll miss the convenient day trips that took me to Heidelberg, Wiesbaden, Cologne and Nurnberg to see some of Germany's most beautiful sites within a few hours. I'll miss being able to walk from my house on one side of the city to the other, with the love locks slowly popping up on the bridge in the middle. I'll miss the forests that surround the city so closely and provided us with lovely summer days filled with space and relaxation (and which re-introduced me to cycling). I'll miss the trains that took me straight to Prague in 5 hours, Bruges in 5, Paris in 4, Amsterdam in 4 and Basel in 3. And most of all I'll miss the people I met who had such interesting stories and inspired me and taught me how important genuine friends are.

The famous skyline

It has been such a fantastic nine months and that time was responsible for turning what was once a feeling that I would like to live in Germany some day to the knowledge that this will be my long-term home. For that Frankfurt will always have a place my heart and should the opportunity ever arise to move back here those bags will be re-packed within seconds. While it wasn't specific to Frankfurt, this was the place that taught me about German culture, introduced me to their language and while I continue to discover new things about the country almost daily this city will always be the place I learnt it all first.

To those considering a move to Frankfurt, I couldn't recommend it enough. It gives you a brilliant taste of German life in a city small enough to work your way around quickly but big enough to give you entertainment, activities and restaurants that will make every weekend feel like you're discovering something new. And along with all of this you have the rest of Europe right on your doorstep, something I hope never to take for granted.

Bis bald Frankfurt!

xx

Turtles, Shots and Talk of Tasmania In A Bilingual Family

As my boyfriend and I were drifting off to sleep a couple of weeks ago I mentioned how when we finally make it to Australia in September this year it would be great to head to Tasmania. Startled, he asked 'Tasmania is in Australia??' This is not the usual question I get when the little island at the bottom of our great country comes out of my mouth. Either you've heard of it, and an inbred joke is coming, or you have no idea what I'm talking about. Confused, I asked 'where did you think it was?' 'I don't know,' he responded, 'i never realised vampires came from Australia.' After a moment or two of trying to work out what the hell he meant, and at first questioning whether he was confusing the Tasmanian Devil (something else I was shocked he'd heard of) I worked out what he was referring to... Transylvania. Yes, the castle in Romania where Dracula lives. Definitely different from TAS-MAN-IA. It's going to be a long time before he lives this one down.

Where Dracula 'reportedly' lives. No, it's not in Tasmania.

This is one of my favourite things about being with someone who is from a completely different culture to me - he makes me laugh at things that before were just a normal part of my thought process and identity. And being around his parents is much of the same. His sister just says random English words and then i try to put them together as thought it's a puzzle. It's like being on a quiz show, and we get to use hand movements as an added bonus. Though the other night she did suddenly come out with 'see you later alligator!' as she was leaving. She was so proud of herself for remembering it we laughed together for a good few minutes.

Meanwhile, his parents more enjoy watching me do, or attempt to do, shots. We have a term in Australia - where you have a 'face like a cat's ass' - and your whole face, i.e. eyes, cheeks and mouth, basically completely screw up towards the centre of your nose (do feel free to try it if you're reading this in private, it's quite an uncanny comparison!). That's exactly what I look like when I do shots. And for a group of Russians who are used to vodka and whisky every 20 minutes I'm a constant source of entertainment for them while we all partake in the ritual. And then, after 5 the boy will step in and protect me from anymore as i start to feel woozy and hot and my legs begin to tingle. I've actually moved from being able to do 4 shots to 5 - my tolerance is increasing!!

Meanwhile we seem to find a common ground in speaking German to one another - I'm still not confident and while his mother can speak fluently his father can't yet so it's good to just say random words to one another and it makes sense, much like his sister with me. After dinner the other night, which I cooked for everyone - they had never tried stir-fry before and were amazed at how easy it was to make! - we sat around laughing at funny pictures of turtles that I found on my Facebook newsfeed. It really is the simple things that make a night when you're on limited language terms.

This is funny in any language

But the love they've shown me since getting to know me has been clear despite our lingual differences. They seem much more keen to live in Australia than the boyfriend at the moment with his father extensively googling the beaches available in the country, and every night I get strange questions from them like, 'what is your address at home so we can look it up on google maps and find out where you grew up'... it seems they're as interested in the different culture in me as I am in them and should this continue to blossom, then his family accepting me without any Russian blood or the ability to speak any language they understand makes them a pretty wonderful bunch.

Keeping and Making Christmas Traditions As An Expat

After travelling to quite a few different places around the December/January period in my lifetime, I've come to the conclusion that Germany really is the king of Christmas. They do everything so well and for the month of December (and a little bit of November too) they make the cold weather feel almost enjoyable because of a simple little invention called the Weihnachtsmarkt.

The Christmas markets in Frankfurt

Even the decorations around the markets are beautiful

Buildings are turned into advent calendars!

For those of us who aren't that advanced in our German classes it's also referred to as the Christmas markets. Just a 10 minute walk from my house are rows and rows of stalls selling every kind of sweet you can imagine, as well as most European specialties and store after store of slightly different but equally tasty mulled wine.

Mulled wine, or Gluhwein, by the gallon

I've become somewhat of an expert on these markets in Frankfurt; i know where the best nuts are, the best kartoffelpuffer, the most amazing crepes (which come encased in wafers!) and the most unforgettable currywurst and fondue. Not to mention the Raclette, and the Finnish food, and the fruit covered in chocolates, and the waffles that i have to admit put Belgian ones to shame...

The main Christmas tree in Stuttgart - every
town has one and decorates it uniquely

Anyway this is one of the reasons why Germany really is the most amazing place to be at Christmas time. Being away from home is hard enough around this period, but a friend who lives in England and is currently travelling in Australia noted to me how little we celebrate it in my former home compared to in Europe. I argued at first but the truth is i never noticed before that the Christmas lights aren't as much of a regular feature in the streets, there are certainly no markets, and I hadn't even heard of mulled wine or christmas jumper nights out until i left down under.

My first two Christmases away from my parents were spent with families of friends I had made in London. Doing it this way made me feel like this time of year was still a family time, even if the only time i'd have with my own family was skyping twice to take into account the different time zones.

But my mum made me feel special by sending me loads of presents, and one year helping me out with some Christmas shopping money when I was particularly poor, and suddenly the traditions I knew so well before were changing. Yorkshire pudding worked its way into my Christmas lunch. Sitting in pj's watching the rain/snow outside while we snuggled up with movies and board games became the norm. And mulled wine was suddenly one of my very favourite things about the holiday season.

Now the tables are turning - my family are coming to me in Frankfurt for Christmas. After the initial complaints from my father over the weather and my sister finding it concerning that she might miss out on some social engagements back home they are now all packed and preparing to fly out tomorrow. With plans to do a Australian and German Christmas as one, bringing in some Russian traditions from my boyfriend as well, it's going to be a day like we've never experienced before.

The funny thing about it is that Christmas used to be the one day I would absolutely insist must be the same every year. When I was younger, we had to do everything exactly as the year before or it wouldn't feel like it was really Christmas at all. One year my parents insisted we go out, and I was car sick on the way. I made them promise never to do it again and though my mum hates cooking she begrudgingly agreed that vom on such a day didn't make for a great time.

And now here I am, learning to cook чебуреки (if you can pronounce that without being Russian you win a gold star), planning to show everyone around Frankfurt and beyond and trying to find a copy of Love Actually in English but with German subtitles. I guess some traditions you will always insist on keeping - opening my presents in the morning as though Santa's been and spending time with a family, even if it's not mine, will always make Christmas what it is for me - but some traditions, as I live abroad for longer, I realise can be bent and changed and have things added in to make what becomes an even better time than I ever hoped for.

Frohen Weihnachten wunsche ich Euch allen! :) xx

One Year Ago Today

With the Christmas markets coming around, and the snow starting to fall, it's beginning to feel a lot like the end of the year. A weekend in Bruges brought me together with a very good friend from London and catching up for the first time in nearly 12 months made for a fun and nostalgic few days. We talked about life in the UK - how the pull of it can be so addictive and only getting out reminds you there's a world outside London - and we had time to reminisce about people we used to hang out with, the things we used to do and the best and worst relationships we could remember having.

Such nostalgia did make me think a bit about how much things have changed in the past year, and trying to wade through all of what's happened made my head spin a bit. When you live abroad it's like your life goes on a rollercoaster. You go from living in one situation to a completely different one in the click of a finger, making you feel more on top of the world than your home country ever did while the bad times leave you feeling more lonely than ever. I thought the year I moved to London was crazy enough; going from living in one hemisphere to another, becoming single after being in a serious relationship, changing jobs twice and moving house. I really had no idea what I was in for when 2013 rolled around.

One year ago today, I was:
- planning a christmas market-themed weekend trip to Frankfurt with my London flatmate, and hoping to figure out if the boy I was texting/skyping who lived there liked me as much as I liked him
- putting together the paperwork for my visa for the UK, hoping that everything was in order
- booking flights back to Australia for a month so I could wait out my visa situation
- spending my weekends in a routine of drinking and feeling hungover, dancing and applying make up, getting horrible night buses and telling sleazy guys to piss off in as many creative ways as possible

Today, I'm:
- giving notice on my flat in Frankfurt as I plan a move to Stuttgart next February with the boyfriend
- organising my visa situation in Germany to stay here for enough time to get citizenship
- starting to pack up my things for the second time in the year
- enrolling in a month-long teaching course in France
- celebrating my boyfriend getting his dream job at Porsche
- spending my weekends doing a mixture of getting trains overseas to explore, having dinners with my new-found girlfriends and spending relaxing nights in with the boy

Things have changed a lot in the last year - I've gone from being a single Londoner to a Deutsche Frau in a relationship planning a move to city i've never been to before, via living and studying in France for a month. It's been a pretty crazy 2013 and with plans to live in three cities in 2014, along with two trips back home and taking a big step in both my career and relationship, I wonder at what point my life will slow down and find some kind of normalcy.

Equally, I often wonder what would have happened to me had I not left Australia. I certainly wouldn't be anywhere near close to being in this situation. Living abroad really does spin you in directions you never even knew existed before you left home and although I'm going to be putting my life into a completely uncertain place next year I think I'm experienced enough with this type of situation to know that it'll turn out positive, even if I end up homeless, jobless, single and starting all over again, again.

Till next time xx

When A Russian Met An Aussie: Experiencing The Cultural Clash

In my life I've had three serious relationships - one was with a fellow Australian, one with an Englishman and the current one is with some sort of Uzbek-Kazakh-Russian-German hybrid. So you could say I moved up the cultural difference ranks with each boyfriend. From one who was from the same area as me, went to the same school and whose family were very close to mine; to one who lived on the opposite side of the globe but still spoke the same language, with subtle cultural differences that we both found interesting to compare, discuss and often argue about; to one who didn't speak my language (he does now thankfully), comes from places I never thought I would visit in my lifetime and does and says things that well, sometimes just completely blow my mind.

I think it fully hit me just how different culturally we are when we were walking through the park the other week, being all romantic with one another as he whisked me off for an anniversary dinner. Noticing a rabbit bouncing through the park I almost squealed with excitement and exclaimed how cute it was. His response? "We should catch it and eat it, and then I can make you a hat for the winter."

The thing I like about cultural stereotypes is that often, they do have an element of truth to them. My boyfriend seems to have some qualities that are German and some that are Russian. He insists on pouring my drink for me all the time and cheers-ing at weird times (for us Aussies it's just once at the start of the drinking session, not every time you pick your glass up). Sometimes when his brother roams around the house screaming at him I have to confirm whether he's actually angry or not - it's about a 50/50 probability - and when I met his family I very quickly had to learn how to hide the fact that I couldn't do a vodka shot every 20 minutes. Equally, he refuses to believe that I could possibly not like the taste of beer.

Meeting the parents was certainly an experience that I enjoyed and found fascinating - while his mother is the most amazing cook and puts any of my signature dishes to shame, she goes crazy if i walk around the house with no shoes on and makes me soaps with pretty knitted materials around the outside so i can keep my clothes smelling nice. His father insisted on having about 20 pictures with me drinking wine, eating biscuits and just generally standing next to him - he changed shirts at one point because he felt it wasn't slimming enough - and the boy's sister made me take her through the English words for every piece of cutlery we were using and everything we were doing.

This is another thing I should point out - none of my boyfriend's family speak any English. It's mostly Russian though he and his brother speak sort of half-half with German. His father tries to speak German to me as I understand the basics, so we do find that we can talk a bit. Of course my boyfriend has been amazing at translating, and his father in particular loves to tell a good Russian joke then poke him constantly till he explains it to me (a guy went to the doctor and said I had a dream, my alcoholism was cured. How do I make this happen? The doctor says well stop drinking, the guy says but then I stop dreaming LOL).

But the cultural differences don't stop at the family. On a recent discussion over why it's apparently less fun on a night out when girls are there - I couldn't understand this as I have loads of guy friends in Australia who are exactly the same around girls as guys - the boy pointed out that I'm constantly saying he treats me with a lot more respect than any Aussie guy did. It seemed that a guy back home's idea of a date involved a pub and his mates, though I will happily submit that I maybe wasn't always picking the best ones. Either way, I do feel that the traditional Russian in this boy as well as his modern German-ness seem to have blended perfectly to create someone who can hold doors open for me but also do the dishes if i cook and doesn't think I'll be the sole carer of possible future children.

I'll admit I have yelled at him drunk a few times that I won't be the Russian woman who takes a submissive role and doesn't question him staying out late at night. In my head, this is what the majority of traditional Russian women do; it's that cultural stereotype sneaking in again. And every time he gets a very confused look on his face as if to say, if i wanted a Russian girl I wouldn't have gone for you?! But we work through these little differences, and I learn more about his culture and he about mine in the process.

Next summer we're apparently heading to Russia to visit the family where they live in Kaliningrad. His father is the mayor of a town there and if there's anything in my life that will be a cultural shock, this will be it. So far i'd say China was the most different experience I've ever had but this will probably equal/beat that. And also Russia in summer? Apparently there's beaches there and we can go swimming. The idea of swimming to me in Russia involves rolling around in the snow and then diving into a hot spring. I never thought summer existed in this country but I suppose I'll find out for sure next June.

And on another side note, I'll be taking him to Aus next September for my sister's 21st birthday. I had to explain to him why this particular birthday was so important (because, er, we like to copy Americans?). I'll take him to some sport, to the pubs, to the beach and then for a snorkle in the Great Barrier Reef. And according to my Russian-Aussie friend he'll fall in love with the country and never want to leave. We'll see about that.

xx

Summer in Europe Part IV: Czech Republic

The last country I could visit before the clouds became more of a permanent fixture in the sky was Prague. My cousin and her fiancé came to Frankfurt for a week and a half to see me and with a train ride to the Czech Republic just 80 euros return it was a brilliant chance to experience one of the few cities my parents have been to in Europe and continually recommended to me.

It’s a six hour train from Frankfurt to Prague, and part of the ‘train ride’ which you book with Bahn includes a bus change. Trying to get the most out of our days we left at 6am on the Sunday and were in the capital by midday. One of the things I love about the Bahn trains is how good the service is; after experiencing some of the worst public transport in my life in London it’s nice that when you have a bus on your journey, it’s the best damn bus you’ve ever seen and so comfortable I fell asleep somewhere in Germany and woke up driving past the Pilsner factory.

Upon arrival in Prague we explored the city and the markets and checked out the local brew and food. To me Prague is very similar to Germany, but one definite highlight was their soup which comes in a big piece of bread rather than a bowl. One of my favourite things in the whole world is soup and bread, it got me through many sicknesses in Melbourne and debilitating hangovers in London. Another local specialty you can’t get in Germany is Absinthe. Heading to the Absinthe museum, we queried where we could find the entrance at the bar. ‘This is it’ was their response as they motioned to the bar behind them, and so in the absence of any real artwork we decided to sample some absthine ice creams.

The Absinthe museum

I don’t know what the hell was in those ice creams but it turned things that weren’t funny into the most hilarious that I had ever seen or heard. It certainly became a museum of comedy if it wasn’t one before and after two helpings and a shot of ‘sperm’ we wandered around the city streets in a state of euphoria that i'm sure many Prague folk have also done at one time or another over the last few hundred years or so.

Being the tourists that we are no city break would be complete without an open top bus tour. It’s like a compact tasting of everything so you can decide exactly how much you want to do now and later if ever again. We were able to get in the castle, the jewish district and the monastery which served it's own brew all in a day and saw all the sights of the city from their famous bridges to one of the ugliest buildings in the world (it has creepy looking babies crawling up it) and their version of the Eiffel Tower, which is proudly a teeny bit taller than the Paris one.

Chillin on the open top bus

I loved Prague but am not sure there’s much else to do than what we saw and experienced. It was the perfect little city break, and by the time the train was coming two nights later we were ready to head home. I didn’t get to experience the nightlife so much apart from our fun with the Absinthe, and this is probably why I’ll return some day.

Prague's centre square

So many beautiful monuments in this compact city

Coming back on the late train is like a really early morning flight; you think it’s a brilliant idea when you book it but at the time you’re cursing your past self. When we finally got in at midnight bed couldn’t have felt better to fall into, and as I woke up early the next morning to start work I contemplated what Autumn in Germany would be like.

With Oktoberfest coming up in a few weeks as well as a visit from my mother and the boy’s birthday things wouldn’t be slowing down any time soon. And organising a hens party for another Frankfurt expat would also be keeping me busy in this place that has quickly become my home.

xx

Summer in Europe Part III: Ireland

Two weeks after arriving back in Frankfurt and just after we'd settled back in, it was time to pack our tiny Ryanair-approved bags and head off to Ireland for a good friend's wedding. After finding that flights to Dublin (where the wedding was) were about 200 euros more expensive than Kerry, we decided to head to Kerry, see some Irish greenery, then hire a car and drive across the country to Dublin for a night of beer and jigs before heading to the wedding on the Sunday.

With only the option of manual cars (unless you are happy to pay double) we had a tough decision to make - who will learn quicker, the boy on the wrong side of the road (for him) or me in a car where i can't just push the gear to 'D' for the first time in my life?! We decided on the former. A few pull-ins to discuss the road rules and a small clipping of another car later - no damage to either of us luckily - he seemed to get the hang of it. And despite the windy roads our car proved to be very easy to get around in.

One of the weirdest things about being in Ireland for me was the fact that everyone spoke English. Seeing signs and understanding them, being able to order food without feeling slightly embarrassed and asking complex questions are things which I'm now totally used to not being able to do. It was like the radio was tuned into my station for a couple of days and no longer on white noise! As I learn more German I understand more but the effort is sometimes so tiring. To walk into a chemist, find the isle with what I wanted easily and pay without question felt like a nice emotional break.

But back to Ireland - we started in Kerry staying at a lovely bed and breakfast that served pancakes for breakfast. The boy's experience of British food (I know we were in Ireland but the food is very similar) is particularly limited, so the first meal we went for was a roast. Delicious. Then we trekked to the Gap of Dunloe and went on a 2 hour walk interrupted by rain, but it was well worth it to get wet for the views.

Gap of Dunloe - Kerry

Having been in Frankfurt and two very summery holiday destinations, I'd forgotten my umbrella and the clothes that are generally appropriate for British (and surroundings) weather. As a result, when I say we got wet, we were drenched. It was a nice reminder though that while I might not be able to understand the street signs in Germany, at least for me now a summer is a summer and the sky doesn't look like the above :)

We made a quick dash before the sun went down through the national park to see a castle and although it was smaller than the ones I was used to it was equally beautiful and so quintessentially Irish.

Kerry National Park

A quick 3km walk to the castle capped off the perfect day in Kerry

So after a night checking out the local pubs in Kerry - when ordering a shepherds pie with a side of chips the boy commented 'they really eat a lot of potatoes here don't they? - we headed off early in the morning to Dublin. Meeting up with some of my oldest and closest friends was great, and though we had planned to spend the afternoon sight-seeing the only sight-seeing we ended up doing was the inside of pubs at Temple Bar. A cocktail here, a Bulmers Irish Cider there, a wine in the next place, and by the end of the night I was just drunk enough to not be too bothered by the awful over-priced Hostel we were staying at.

The morning saw us busily ironing and getting ready in said awful-hostel - which isn't easy when you're attempting to look wedding-style perfect surrounded by backpackers drinking cans of beer at 9am. The drive to the church wasn't too long and then when we arrived at the reception and checked into our hotel, it was so much better than we ever imagined. This wedding was in the most romantic and intimate Irish castle I'd seen.

The reception venue - perfect

It was a big night which involved a few trips to our room for top-ups of alcohol and by the end of it we were the only ones left on the dance floor, and singing Australian football songs with the groom's grandmother at 3 in the morning. It was the perfect day and as we fell into bed we were not looking forward to getting up and making the four hour drive back to Kerry airport the next day.

The drive was long and filled with hangover pangs and the dash to the plane was even more difficult, but as we were bumped back onto the Ryanair plane I felt pretty grateful to my boyfriend for being willing to drive across a country - and back - in order to go to a wedding where he wouldn't understand all of the language and meet a lot of people for the first time. It was a pretty big thing to do, particularly on the back of a very expensive holiday across Croatia and Hungary. So thanks Ireland, for strangely enough, making a little atheist like me feel pretty blessed.

xx