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Category: Journal

Living in a Country (that is not your own)

What is it like to live in a city?

I have never really lived in a city before. Every morning I wake up (yes, even after 8 months living there) and realize, oh wow! I live in Berlin. As a child, this is nothing I could have ever imagined. As a young adult, I dreamed of purchasing some land, preferably on the side of a mountain with a great view, build myself an off-grid cabin and garden and become a recluse writer/gardener with minimal contact with the outside world. As an “adult”

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The Best Pup

My sweet summer puppy. How I have loved you since I was 8 years old, how I still love you at 24. You were an old man, even at 1 years old. You preferred a calm night curled in front of a fire or on my lap rather than running to fetch a stick. Your curiosity had you ranging on your leash from in front of me, out to the side, to trying to drag me backward.

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Amsterdam–Berlin/Brück

The day had been a long one. Almost 10 hours hitching from Amsterdam to Brück

“The end of the journey is not quite in sight. We are sitting in a bar that has Native American/old-time-y American theme. Flags, posters are reminiscent of the American West and American flags, bows, and arrows, and cowboy paraphernalia. Interspersed with all of this are lacy window hangings and Waldorf-like dioramas on the windowsills. Nothing like stepping into a bar and seeing little statues of lambs and other animals nestled in evergreen branches. Another giveaway that this bar is not someplace in the US, at least in this time period, is the indoor smoking and bright lights. The live music band is doing a decent job, though, reminiscent of a coffee house and small music gatherings I have been to in the states, covering classic rock to bluegrass-y tunes.

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a side trip to germany

No longer are there cameras in every shop and on every store front. No longer are there soldiers, weapons strapped across there chest, standing at every other street corner. On crowded sidewalks, there isn’t a fear of being run over by three children piled on electric bikes weaving drunken lines on the crowded walkways. On any given day it is no longer common to hear conversations in at least three different languages not my own. In line at the store, or waiting for a ticket I can now doze without the fear that someone will cut me in line. The sidewalks here, (Northern New England), have cracks like lightning bolts cut through the hilly concrete. There are no more long bus rides. The cold this winter is slow to arrive, nonetheless, the feeling of the season makes reflecting all the easier.

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how to travel alone

Look  for your courage,
take a tablespoon of this but not so heaping,
you don’t want it to cloud your common sense.
Take twice as much self-esteem
than you think you need.
Your self-esteem might be torn to tatters,
best to have a few extra just in case.
But in your hiking pack,
be sure to leave the biggest pocket empty
for your mind
that is open for each an every new experience;
you’ll need all the energy from this as you can get,
because nowhere else is like your own home,
and this is the beauty of travel!

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