Las Chicas in Berlin

Bergen and Norwegian Natural Beauty

Another city on a fjord, Bergen is the perfect starting point for a tour of Norway’s rugged landscape and seascape. First, we take a very scenic train ride from Oslo to Bergen. We have a celebrity sighting in Oslo; lesbian activist and comedian Kate Clinton and her friends are also vacationing in Norway. We introduce ourselves with Mary offering the unimaginative “I love your work,” and Kate tells us they will also be “doing the boat tour.” Then we board our different train cars and never see them again.

Fantastic scenery out the windows of our train, Mary makes 10 videos and after taking about 100 pictures. Here’s a small sample:

We arrive in Bergen, sisterhood of the rolling suitcases, and make our way to the wharf area and our hotel, passing some sidewalk and street art along the way.

These colorful buildings form Bryggen, the historic commercial district. Foundations in this area date to the 12th century, but trading really got going in the 1700s.

The brick buildings look like those we saw in northern Germany, because they were built by the same Hanseatic League merchants. Bergen was the northernmost outpost of the League, and supplied Atlantic cod (easily salted, dried, and shipped) to people throughout Europe.

Tucked behind the colorful waterfront, this house from the 1600s survived many fires and is the oldest in Bryggen.

Las Chicas eschew cod for a more familiar Norwegian snack:

The following day, our real Norwegian adventure begins with a mild train ride back to a small mountain town where we board a narrow gauge train that will take us to Fläm and Aurlandsfjorden. Railroading!

En route to Fläm, the train stops beside a giant waterfall where Mary is out the door first to photograph the scene without people.

Then the rest of the passengers disembark to see the waterfall and enjoy a little recorded music and a dancing “spirit of the mountains”. (See video at end of this post.)

After descending to sea level, we arrive in Fläm where our Fjord Safari boat is blocked from view by a giant cruise ship. We brave the souvenir shop with the British hordes, walk along the water and up a hill, then it’s time for Fjord Safari! We dress in fashionable waterproof coveralls, life jackets, hats, and goggles.

The boat is like a zodiac–made for ocean waves, hard bottom, inflatable sides, and ropes to hang on to. Joel, our fuzzy faced captain, steers from the back of the boat, while we 14 passengers sit roller-coaster style in rows facing forward.

We putt-putt past the monstrous cruise ship, Joel guns it and we fly across the fjord in search of wakes so we can bounce and swerve and aim for the fjord’s cliffs. We slow and float and Joel talks about waterfalls and how fjords are fresh water on top and salt water below.

More speedboat racing and swerving, then floating at this village famous for its brown cheese. “It wins awards,” says Joel.

Speed and wind and waterfalls. No rain, and orange-tinted goggles are not necessary.

Joel drops us off at Gudvagen on the Nærøfjorden where we board a van and drive back to the regular train, and back to Bergen. Great memories of the UNESCO World Heritage Area: “The Norwegian Western Fjords.”

We eat dinner al fresco beneath red tents on the wharf, consuming paella and merluza (hake) cooked by Spaniards! And weak 2.5% beer, much to Mary’s dismay.

We brave the rain on the next day, exploring a bit more of Bryggen and its archeological museum.

Map shows the town in 1276

Partially built frame of an old trading ship, and map showing the trading region including Ireland, England, Iceland, Greenland, Scandinavia, Russia, Europe.

Some archeological objects

To end our Norwegian experience, we visit KODE, the modern art museum. At KODE 2, the JC Dahl exhibit shows Norway in its stormy glory of seascapes and mountain storms.

We’re lucky that our fjord adventure did not include raging seas, only clouds and beautiful waterfalls.

Thank you Norway for amazing art, and watery outdoor adventure!

A little taste of mountain music :

Oslo : Mostly Outdoors

Las Chicas are eager to visit Norway for the first time. Another leg on the Interrail pass proves to be a little less about comfort, as NSB (Norges Statsbaner or Norwegian State Railways) changes us, unannounced, to a bus. Some three hours later we land in Oslo, drag our bags through the train station and are greeted by one of many sculptures to come.

An ultramodern city full of amazing art, architecture, great food, masses of water and forest, and only one full day to explore. So we make the best of the remaining afternoon hours because the sun isn’t setting before 10, and take a stroll through the city nearby.

We don’t go far before we encounter one of the many trendy pop-up restaurants for dinner. Beer, sweet potatoes fries and Thai curry will do the trick.

After dinner we continue on our walk, past fountains and flowers.

the Parliament building, called the Storting or Stortinget in Norwegian meaning the “great assembly”,

and onto the Royal Palace.

Behind the palace we find water and mushroom-like creations that amuse us.

We also enjoy some of the local street art.

“The Priest” by street artist Dolk, who we discovered in Malmo.

The art of a local eatery close to the hotel.

After a short sleep, we head out into Oslo. We have many great tips from the Visit Oslo website. Architecture and outdoor sculpture parks should keep us busy for the better part of the day.

First to Frogner Park, where the Vigeland Sculpture Park is located. We join multitudes of tourists at the entrance to see the 200+ sculptures. Gustav Vigeland created these wonders over a period of only 20 years from 1924-1943 and donated them to the city of Oslo; the land was donated free to display this collection. The theme is focused on family and the human condition.

Some pieces are a bit startling, like the series depicting the struggle between reptile and human. With the exception of the one embracing a woman, it appears the lizard is battling with or consuming the human. One source suggests the reptile represents evil and reflects the struggle of the human condition.

Onto the lighter side, here are a few of our favorites.

The fountain, originally designed for the outside entrance of the Norwegian Parliament building.

The Wheel of Life, a sundial positioned at the very end of an 850-meter axis.

The Monolith, 14.12-meter high, a symbolic sculpture consisting of 121 intertwined human figures.

Next stop, Oslo’s waterfront and the Aker Brygge Wharf, previously an old shipyard. The boardwalk is full of many fabulous restaurants, but we choose gelato for our noontime refreshment,

while enjoying the SUPs in the harbor.

We head to the Astrup Fearnley Museum, designed by starchitect Renzo Piano.

Surrounded by water and the second sculpture park of the day, Tjuvholmen Sculpture Park, we opt for outside art and bypass the inside collection.

Onto the Oslo Opera House, with a few local sights on the way.

It’s a bit warm to take advantage of this sauna boat.

A favorite, the olfactory history moment.

Oslo Opera House, home to the Norwegian National Opera and Ballet, designed by a local architecture firm and the recipient of many awards.

Many interesting features,

with great rooftop views,

including the ever-present cranes dotting the city and building the future Oslo.

Onward we test the pedestrian bridge,

with its interesting views of the Barcode district, 12 buildings designed to resemble a barcode.

Evening is quickly approaching and the third sculpture park awaits us. Another trip on Oslo’s impressive transit takes us to the bottom of the park, with many surprises ahead.

Shortly after entering the park we encounter sculptures by some well known artists:
Auguste Rodin’s “Cariatide Tombee Á Lúrne”

Pierre-Auguste Renoir, “Venus Vistrix”

Salvador Dalí, “Venus de Milo Aux Tiroirs”

What a special evening this turns out to be. We amble up hills and around bends to discover other unexpected treasures. The park is open 24/7, with little or no apparent security. It’s an amazing collection.

Sarah Sze, “Still Life with Landscape”

Dan Graham, “Pavillion”

Louise Bourgeois, “The Couple”

Hilde Maehlum, “Konkavt Ansikt” (translated, Concave Face)

Sean Henry, “Walking Woman”

In addition to art, we explore archeology.

Steinsetning – Stone Circle
This megalithic structure, once likely 7 stones now 4, was not excavated.

Skålgroper – Cup Marks
These cup-shaped indentations are the most common form of rock art in Norway, dating back to the late Bronze Age or early Iron Age. The natural setting enhances the beauty of everything around us.

But one last surprise.

Fujiko Nakaya, “Pathfinder #18700 Oslo”

Return to Gothenburg

Gothenburg is the second stop on our Interrail trip through Scandinavia. We reserved a hotel, but surprise! there are two hotels with the same name in different locations. Hmmm… taxi it is. We arrive across the Göta älv river into Lindholmen, home to a tech park, conference center, and our hotel. It’s definitely not the Gothenburg Lisa visited before. So we drop our bags and catch a free ferry back to the action.

Mary’s dream commute: bike + ferry

We have the evening to ourselves before meeting up with Lisa’s cousin Kim tomorrow. Our walk from the ferry takes us by the harbor.

Gothenburg harbor with the large schooner

View with the “Lipstick Building” in the background

We search for the Customs House. The Customs House was the departure point for Lisa’s grandmother in 1897 when she emigrated to the US, on her own, at the age of 20. Instead we find a Casino that seems to be in its place, but later, with help from Kim, locate it on the backside of the Casino, by the river.

We take a quick detour to Postgatan Street, the place where the immigrants paused while waiting for their paperwork to clear. The next day Kim explains that some never made it out of this area, instead losing their money to gambling, whores, or getting robbed.

After wandering for a while we finally find a street with several restaurants of interest. Where do we eat? El Barrio, the “South American Fusion restaurant.” We devour delicious Bolivian tapas and sweet potato fries, a favorite in these parts.

We get a late start meeting Kim due to the torrential rains. It has not rained for months. Sweden had as many as 80 forest fires simultaneously this summer. We think this is a good sign for the drought stricken area. Kim’s partner Robert joins in the tour.

image1 (1)

A quick history tour before heading to the docks for shrimp and wine. We visit Postgatan Street again,

and then onto this memorial to Holocaust survivors.

A remembrance of the Holocaust circa 2009

In 1621, when Gothenburg was settled a church was built on this site, named Gustavi kyrka, after the king who had fallen in battle the year before. Later converted into the cathedral, now standing, Domkyrkan, renamed for Gustavi Domkyrka.

A young visitor walks along the map of the old city, laid underneath his feet in stone.

Seahorse unicorn, Mary’s favorite.

Kronhuset, the oldest building in Gothenburg, served as a munitions depot until 1954.

And a quick stop at the city market,

After saying goodbye to Kim and Robert, we head to a nearby Gothenburg Botanical Garden. Among the amazing display of flowers and fountains,

the quiet serenity is quickly interrupted by dance jam/party hosted by DJ Mr. French.

Flashing lights and music so loud it followed us all the way out of the park. We head back to our hotel to relax. Perhaps we are not the only ones that find some entertainment among the chairs placed at the entrance to the elevators on each floor.

On our last morning we take a walk along the water by the hotel before departing for the Central Station en route to Oslo.

“Kuggen” (Swedish for cog), part Chalmers University of Technology.

Rainbow flags all around celebrate Euro Gay Pride the weekend after we left.

Outside the dining room of our hotel, this sculpture spins slowly in a Göta älv river inlet.

Malmøhus Slot (Castle) and the Mexican Suitcase

We take in a little bit of Malmø history and visit the Malmøhus Slot, before heading north to our next Swedish destination.

Originally built in 1434 Erik av Pommem, then King of Denmark, Sweden and Norway, this castle, aka Malmøhus Fortress, was important to Danish sovereignty at the time. The Sound was a vital passage to the lucrative trade of the Baltic region. Rebuilt and renovated several times, in 1658 it came under Swedish rule. And by the end of the 18th century, the fortress no longer had any military significance so was converted into a prison, housing over 1,000 prisoners until 1914 when the prisoners were moved to a new location.

As we head out the gate after being a little bored by this slice of history, we see a large poster advertising an exhibit inside. The Mexican Suitcase: Rediscovered Spanish Civil War Negatives. Perhaps not a topic of interest to many, but Las Chicas, having lived in Catalunya for two years, have developed an interest in Spanish history. Curious about this seemingly out of place exhibit, we pay the admission fee and head inside to investigate.

In December 2007, a Mexican filmmaker, Benjamin Tarver, discovered three boxes of negatives in the possession of his late aunt. These negatives had belonged to a family friend, General Francisco Aguilar González, a Mexican Ambassador to Vichy, France, in 1941-42. Apparently Aguílar managed to smuggle out the negatives in their twenty trunks of belongings on their return to Mexico.

Upon investigation, Tarver discovered the boxes contained 4,500 original negatives of the Spanish Civil War, negatives taken by Civil War photographers Robert Capa, Gerda Taro, Fred Stein and David Seymour (Chim), that had disappeared 70 years earlier.

Pictured from left to right, Taro, Capa, Stein, Seymour (Chim)

Born Gerda Pohorylle, Taro was one of the first recognized female photojournalists. Of German Jewish descent, Taro was raised in Leipzig but fled to Paris in 1933, where she met André Friedmann. The two reinvented themselves as Taro and Capa, and worked together to photograph the Spanish Civil War on the front lines. Taro lost her life in only one year into her coverage of the war, during one of the fiercest battles, the Battle of Brunete. She was the first female journalist to lose her life on the front lines of war.

Robert Capa, aka Friedmann, was a prominent photojournalist in the 20th century. Born to a Jewish family in Budapest, he fled Hungary for Berlin at the age of 17, because of his leftist activities, and enrolled in journalism school. He then moved to Paris in 1933, where he met Taro and Stein.

Third in the crew was Fred Stein. Also born a German Jew, Stein fled to Paris in 1933, when he was unable to practice law in his home country. In Paris he worked as a photographer and kept company with intellectuals such as Hannah Arendt.

Chim was born Dawid Szymin in Warsaw Poland to a Yiddish/Hebrew publishing family. He took to photography early and traveled to Paris to attend the Sorbonne. Recognized for his political photographs, he photographed the entire Civil War in Spain, but from a distance, centering in on the complexities of the political landscape of that time.

The photographs tell the story of war from a variety of angles: the soldiers and their families,

the political climate, still not well understood by many today.

Translation: Workers! There are only two ways to win the war. Fight with determination at the front, and work tirelessly at the rear. Comrades, work intensively and with enthusiasm! So we will win!

The suffering and destruction,

People pressing against the gate at the morgue, waiting for news about their relatives.

Following a major air raid in Valencia

and images of a proud people supporting their country. (Below: Soldiers working alongside farmers in the fields.)

Taro’s photos depict some of the most hideous results of the war, including her photos from the morgue. They are a bit too much for me to photograph. Instead, here is the comment attached to these photos,

“Taro showed the atrocious consequence of a new kind of war, in which the civilian population became the main target of enemy forces.”

The content of the exhibition was made into a documentary, “La Maleta Mexicana” (The Mexican Suitcase), available on Amazon. You can read more about the story and related information, A Secret Archive: On the Mexican Suitcase

Malmö: Cool City by the Sea

Las Chicas return to 🇸🇪 Sweden in hopes of escaping the unrelenting summer heat of Berlin. Our first stop is Malmö, just across the channel (30-minute train ride) from Copenhagen. Record breaking heat in Malmö too? Hotel air-conditioning to the rescue!

Malmö’s city center contains a mix of very old and very new buildings. St. Peter’s Church in the Gothic style, built in 1319:

The church is under renovation, so it holds services in this dome festooned with small rainbow ribbons representing universal inclusiveness.

Starchitect Santiago Calatrava’s Twisted Torso, which twists a full 90 degrees from bottom to top. With 54 storeys, it’s the tallest building in Scandinavia:

Above is an new extension designed by Australian Kim Utzon for the World Maritime University (below), a United Nations Institution. The brick university building is the former Malmö Harbor Master’s building.

During a day of walking around the city, Mary relaxes in a temporary lounge chair, among many couches and chairs built for fans of the upcoming Malmö festival.

The Clarion Hotel makes its bid for Scandi-cool design:

Green glass curves greet us as we emerge from the train station. It’s called “Glasvasen” and designed by Kanozi Arkitekter.

Like other Scandinavian cities, Malmö boasts thought-provoking public art too.

“Non-Violence” by Swedish artist Carl Fredrik Reuterswärd, 1 of 16 of his knotted guns around the world.

“Way to Go” includes nineteen bronze shoes that represent artists from different eras and professions. The shoes point to a place that was important to each artist.

“Optimistic Orchestra” by cubist sculptor Yngve Lundell. He said it was a tribute to “two positively disobedient people,” Lech Walesa and Martin Luther King, Jr.

“Rubato – Free Flow” by Eva Hild. She created this aluminum curvy sculpture as an antidote to the city’s boxy buildings.

“The Spectral Self Container” in colorful fiberglass by Matti Kallioine, with small boat harbor on the left and harbor buildings behind it.

Sculpture and shadow along the canal, but we fail to get name and artist!

From architecture to design, we visit a Swedish design store. Mary spots the neck bike helmet, created in Sweden, on sale; then we see a cyclist wearing one. We spot several cyclists using this self-inflating balloon helmet throughout our travels in Scandinavia.

More Swedish specialties! Below left: “Upcycle” display from the festival, how to use recycled glass and broken cement. Below right: “Caviar” fish paste that comes in tubes in a variety of flavors from shrimp to garlic. Mary tests this savory spread at the hotel breakfast buffet and dislikes it.

We bike to the Ribersborgs Kallbadhus (cold bath house) on the sea. We walk out the long pier to an old wooden building perched on pilings. The original building was constructed in 1898, but has been renovated several times since then.

Lisa riding the rental bike with ferry to Finland in the background; locks and tiny lockers at the bath house.

The bath house has single sex bathing areas, plus single sex and co-ed sauna spaces. Open all year so winter guests alternate icy plunges into the sea and steamy or dry saunas. We pay our fee and enter the women’s side, changing out of our clothes and into nothing! “Textile free” like everyone else, we walk outside, past the bath (actually sea water) surrounded by an interior deck and changing rooms.

Ready for this new Swedish experience, we head to the exterior deck and staircase into the open sea. Women and girls of all ages enjoy the water and sunshine. Lisa immediately heads into the sea and dives right in. The temperature is perfect as we swim and float, get out for some sun, in again for more swimming. At the bath, we experience lagom (pronounced laaaw-gum), the Swedish word for health and contentment.

Cologne Cathedral between Roman Towers and Crane Houses

The spectacular sky matches the spectacular Cathedral as we walk from the Rhine River to its entrance.

Above: the Ludwig Museum of Modern Art in the foreground.

The back of the cathedral

North side, flying buttresses

North tower

Below are more details of one door, and carved figures around the same door.

Construction began in 1248 and didn’t finish until 1880! Emperor Wilhelm I presided over the opening of what was the tallest building in the world. (Four years later, in 1884, the Washington Monument topped it.) Over the years, builders and architects worked from the original plans, so the church remained Gothic in style throughout over 600 years of construction.

The interior height of the nave is 144 feet, one of the tallest in Europe.

The stained glass windows didn’t last through the centuries, World War II bombings and battles near the cathedral shattered many of them. During reconstruction in the 1950s, builders replaced some windows with clear glass.

Below is a photograph taken in 1945 showing the destroyed railroad bridge and damaged cathedral. (Note: Poor photo quality, as the photo displayed under plastic.)

Modern art made its way into a south facing window in 2007, when Gerhard Richter created a random pixel design in 72 colors to cover its 1,200 square feet.

Above: Floor mosaics

God, Jesus, the 4 apostles, and a world map that doesn’t include North and South America.

The Crucifix of Bishop Gero, 10th century, the oldest known large crucifix.

The High Altar from 1322 is topped with a solid 15-foot slab of black marble

On the streets and underground, we see remnants of the 1st century Roman colony, Colonia Claudia Ara Agrippinensium. Beneath the Roman gate on the Cathedral plaza, we chat with two Camino de Compostela de Santiago pilgrims, beginning their long walk to Spain. We wish “Buen Camino” to them on Jakobsweg, as it is called in German.

We also visit a stone tower, which marked the northwest corner of the Roman settlement. Check out the 2,000-year old mosaic design.

On our way to mid-morning ice cream, we passed another tower, its base from Roman times.

Roman foundation stones even support the cathedral. This hall cuts through the foundation stones:

Also beneath the cathedral is a partially reconstructed storage chamber believed to part of a wealthy Roman merchant’s house.

Mary has to squeeze in one more tourist outing, so she visits the Deutsches Sport & Olympia Museum. Brutally hot due to no air conditioning, she rushes through the history of assorted sports. The museum details the Olympics’ beginning in ancient Greece and displays a replica of a Greek bronze discus. Also pictured below, a mechanical betting machine from the early 20th century, used in 6-day racing (people on bikes in a velodrome) and horse racing.

Our final morning walk along the Rhine River takes us below three 17-story cantilevered shimmering glass and steel buildings.

Reminiscent of the harbor cranes that served Cologne’s shipping industry, they are each called Kranhaus (Crane House). Built in 2008, architects Alfons Linster and Hadi Teherani designed them.

On our last night in the city that was once part of the Roman Empire, even the spectacular cathedral is dwarfed by the sky’s colors at sunset.

Artsy Cologne

Las Chicas have a surprisingly art-filled holiday in Köln (Cologne). Most famous for the Cologne Cathedral, we enjoy the artistic side of the city beginning with our hotel, Art’otel.

The hotel features art prints of SEO, a Korean-born artist who now lives in Berlin. The colorful theme of her works is water – flowing and making connections. In addition to prints of her art posted on the walls, each room has a large glass reproduction of one of SEO’s works that doubles as a wall in the shower.

Beyond the hotel, the Rhine River creates its own natural art.

Other art decorates the city, like HA Shult’s golden winged car on top of the municipal museum.

Or this more solemn remembrance:

One cannot travel in Germany without regular reminders of the violence of the past, and the strength of those who resisted, endured, survived and died.

We continue our art-filled day with a visit to Museum Ludwig, home to an impressive collection of modern art.

The first collection we view is from another Korean artist who migrated to Berlin, Haegue Yang, winner of the 2018 Wolfgang Hahn Prize. ETA (Estimated Time of Arrival) 1994 – 2018, is an overview or survey collection ranging from textiles to journal entries, room-sized sculptures to small collections in cases.

I am moved by a series of journal entries posted on the wall talking about Yang’s immigration to Germany. She writes,

” A person can be nervous spending even one night at another person’s house. Imagine so much more so in a foreign country. More over, I couldn’t read anything, so was suddenly illiterate. I didn’t know the language so I became deaf and dumb…”

I have shared these experiences. Art is meant to evoke feeling, to connect people and experiences. But there is no apparent connection in the diversity of pieces in this collection. Regardless, they are engaging.

The Intermediate – Tilted, Bushy, Lumpy, Bumpy – 2016

Sol LeWitt Upside Down – K123456, Expanded 1078 Times, Doubled and Mirrored

The exhibit also provides opportunities to interact with the art.

But this is only the beginning. We enjoy art from Mark Rothko,

Earth and Green, 1955

Helen Frankenthaler,

Stroke of High Tide I, (Flutschlag I), 1974

and one of my favorites, Paul Klee. Klee and Kandinsky have been on our minds lately as we learn about the Bauhaus movement, celebrating its 100th year in 2019.

Hauptweg and Nebenwege (Highways and Byways), 1929

There is also a brilliant collection of Pop Art. Original works by Warhol and Lichtenstein.

Claus Oldenburg, Giant Soft Swedish Light Switch (Ghost Version), 1966

Tom Wesselmann, Landscape No. 2, 1964

Before leaving, Mary takes the opportunity to create some pop art of her own.

Baltic Sea Bike Tour: Day by Day

Through the woods and over the hills and onto the ferry

Before we reach the Baltic Sea, our trip begins in Rostock, home to a mish-mash of architecture, sculptures and fountains. Our tour will also take us through what used to be the GDR, German Democratic Republic, aka former East Germany, before the Wall came down in 1989. The city, like others on the Baltic coast, still shows off the monumental Gothic architecture of the Hanseatic era (1400s).

The largest church in Northern Germany, Marienkirche (St. Marien church), towers in Gothic glory next to a small goat fountain from the East German era. The church was built in 1230. The goat is from the 1970s.

Ratschow-Haus from the 15th cetnury, now Library of the City–important government documents kept here:

Another GDR fountain celebrates the workers of the world, fishing and farming:

A hotel spangles with East German festivity:

Rathaus, or Town Hall, a garish mixture of pink plaster and red brick turrets built in 1270:

We walk along the waterfront in drizzle. Thankfully, we find a cozy corner table overlooking the water, in an Italian restaurant, and fortify ourselves for our first bike kilometers tomorrow.

On the way back to our hotel, we see the Steintor, one of the old stone gates of the city:

After a bit of morning misdirection (Mary blames the bike tour book), we ride on the correct path to the sea. First, we pass through lovely fields, forests, and find the sea on the edge of a campground, just over the dune.

After riding by the sea, we turn inland to Wustrow, on the bay. We have the best room, with a small balcony overlooking this harbor.

We see another large Gothic brick church and enjoy another Italian meal. After breakfast among the sea shells, blocks and tackle, net tatters, and photos of sailboats and iceboats, we’re off to our next town.

As you read in the Natural World , this day is Mary’s favorite. It begins with a pause for this horse-drawn wagon filled with children singing camp songs.

Cool weather, tailwinds, and paved bike paths!

Not too many other people on the path. Mary secretly hopes for a sailboat cruise in the long light of evening at the next port town.

We arrive in Barth to discover a town as grim as its name. Road construction stymies us on busy roads. The hotel is basic, far from the harbor, but at least there is a cat to entertain Lisa while Mary fumbles with the lock and dank garage that holds our bikes for the evening. We ride our bikes to “Thai Asia Bistro,” but the smell of rancid oil mixed with pork, beef and who knows what else quickly drives us back out the door. So we head to familiar ReWe, a German supermarket chain, shiny, new and air-conditioned with many food options. Relieved, we get our food to go, and return to our room overlooking the parking lot to watch the Tour de France. Critically, we also purchase tortilla chips to be smashed in the pannier for mid-morning snacks on the next day.

Up next, another great day of riding by bays, harbors, marshes, and thatched roof houses. Thatched-roof houses are everywhere throughout our days of touring–old houses, new thatched-roof subdivisions, thatched-roof hotels, and assorted collapsing barns.

We also visit the restroom of a lumberjack festival, happening later this summer. Note saws as decoration.

The clouds seem threatening, and the day is a little dark, but we arrive in Stralsund in time for a late lunch at a 1970s-style restaurant. We head to the harbor to figure out the ferry for the next day, but do not figure it out, and spend some time looking at digital (Lisa) and paper (Mary) maps to determine the location of our hotel.

View of St. Jakobi church in Alte Stadt (old town):

We ride past the Alte Stadt, and another lake, drag our bikes into the hotel cellar, marginally aided by the 8-inch ramp next to the stairs. But what a view from our room! The trees, the lake, the Gothic spires of the Alte Stadt. A perfect backdrop for recovering while watching the Tour de France.

Hotel room view:

St. Marien Lutheran Church, built before 1300. Between 1549 and 1647, it was the tallest building in the world with a bell tower at 103 meters. Parts of the church have been rebuilt ove the centuries.

Walking to dinner view:

We walk to dinner by the harbor, admire the fountain in the lake and studiously avoid Asian bistros. Bellini’s welcomes us with delayed but delicious Italian food. It’s a lovely summer evening in a university town.

We are überpünktlich (“over on time” or extremely early) for the ferry ticket office in the morning, then we wait another 45 minutes for the ferry.

While waiting on the dock, we chat with friendly Berlin cyclists who tell us we will love the Island of Hiddensee, And we do! No cars allowed to drive on the island–only horses, walking, and bikes.

A bit of biking on bricked bike paths, a bit of hiking to the Leuchtturm (light house), and some lounging on the beach.

Mary goes for a swim. We wait for a ferrry, early early again!

Later the same day, we catch another ferry to Breege. This ferry features an accordion player who serenades passengers from bike deck.

We arrive to the cobblestone dock in Breege, and ride on it just like Tour de France riders do that very same day (Stage 9). We have finally arrived on the Island of Rügen, home to semi-famous seaside resorts.

Our hotel is easy to find, and throbbing with 2 busloads of tourist jubilados (Spanish for retired people) in the buffet line for dinner. It is not a seaside resort, but a friendly family-owned hotel. The owner/manager welcomes us with “I speak English, I am Dutch” and tells us where to put our bikes, and about the buffet. Starving we are, we quickly dump our stuff in our room and head to the end of the now short buffet line. Fish and many styles of potatoes, spargel (white asparagus) soup, and ice cream for dessert.

We avoid the German and Dutch bus tour folks by eating outside with a sliver of the bay visible through the buildings across the street. We take another lovely after-dinner amble along the water in the peaceful village of Breege.

The next day, we follow the short cut recommended in our guidebook, and become lost on a rough cobbled road, followed by a slippery sandy track through fields. We follow various hiking trail signs in an attempt to get to the beech forest and white cliffs which should be the highlight of our trip.

Mary no longer enjoys riding on cobbles on rented tank bike.

Finally, we reach a town and a large parking lot where the National Park shuttle bus stops. Civilization! Salmon sandwiches and coke in the shade of a food truck restore us. We get better directions and ride on a rolling paved road through the forest. Upon recommendation of our Dutch host, we take a dirt road into the forest to Wald (forest) house.

After locking our bikes, we head down the trail and get our first views of the cliffs. Beech trees envelop us with calm, and cleanse us of our morning cranky cobbles.

Refreshed, we cruise downhill to Sassnitz. Foiled by guidebook misdirection again, we ride on more cobbles to the industrial port area. Mary says “Our hotel is up there,” pointing to the hill above the harbor. Lisa gets out her trusty digital phone to guide us to it. We ride along the waterfront, and up another hill (this time on a smooth-ish sidewalk) and arrive at our hotel that time forgot. It is overdone in a weird way that 1950s GDR architecture referred back to some golden era.

But collectibles! We discover two rooms on the first floor filled with cases of small objects from around the world. There’s also a detailed book explaining the collector and his collections – for whoever might be interested.

A groovy pedestrian bridge leads down to the harbor in Sassnitz.

We also learn this used to be a critical port on the Stockholm to Berlin immigration journey, from the 1890s:

After an Italian dinner by the harbor, we watch a large vessel with two-hulls, like a green and white super-sized steel catamaran, circle the harbor waiting for a place to dock. After another similar red vessel departs, the green one ties up.

We identify British accents and ask the man with a suitcase about the type of vessel. “It takes us to the wind farm, it’s ok to say that right?” he says looking toward the German. “Ya.” Baltic Sea commuting! Wind farm engineers work for weeks at a time, like oil rig roughnecks except on sustainable energy platforms. German, British, and Swedish firms own and operate the farms.

On to Binz! The bike route to Binz is first dangerous: we ride on a narrow bridge over a steel grid sidewalk with train tracks below. Then it turns to simply dreary, a paved path through a tunnel of scrubby pine along a busy road. We skip the bleak community of Prora, which was the Nazi and East German summer playground for the privileged of those eras. Its Bauhaus style buildings are in disrepair or gentrified, depending on which part of the beach you visit. Find out more from this Architecture Magazine story.

We park our bikes and stroll along the Binz seaside strand. We see 19^th and early 20^th century “villas,” small resort hotels that now contain vacation apartments.

The Jetsons apparently also spent some time here:

Everyone must have a beach ticket, and we attempt to pay, but the machine hates us and will not take our Euros.

Away from the busy central area, we sneak across the sand past these cabanas, to dip our toes in the water. After an ice cream snack, we’re on our way to the smaller resort town of Sellin.

We get to our hotel just before it starts to drizzle. Undaunted, we go to the main street for a delicious Italian lunch, then take a stroll to the famous pier, built in 1906 (rebuilt since then). It’s gray and blustery, so we don’t spend too much time. Later in the evening, we return to the beach where a few people still swim at 9 pm.

Rain greets us the next morning, so we greet the narrow-gauge train called Rasender Roland that takes us to Putbus, shortening our 62 km bike ride to “only” 50 km.

A bike car holds our bikes along with a few others. The train is quaint, historic, and cozy until the coal smoke blows into our car, Mary moves to the back of the car to avoid it. A couple of stops later, Lisa joins her. Thank goodness the coal-powered stove is not necessary today.

We ride along double-track through the damp forest, but the rain has gone! In the fields and forests, we see other bike tourists carrying much heavier loads than us. We’re crossing the interior of Rügen which is hillier than the coast. After a couple of hours into the wind, and across the long bridge to Stralsund, we reach civilization and the confounding posted bike signs vs. guidebook directions. One final mis-direction from Mary “No, I’m sure it’s this way,” is corrected after about a mile. And we reach our hotel. No, we will not be climbing stairs to the second floor of the “villa” which is certainly a converted barn. The hotel gives us a regular room instead.

The next morning, we bid “auf wiedersehen” to Stralsund at the Flix Bus stop, in the shadow of St. Marien.

Map of our total route with Fähre (ferry).

Biking in Nature along the Baltic Sea

Beginning on Day 1, the strawberries are our first encounter with nature outside the city. Fields filled with workers and the delightful smell of fresh strawberries fills the air. We too are fresh and excited as we roll along the smooth paths toward the sea.

Strawberries are everywhere this time of year. And what could be more fitting than the iconic bear we see all around Berlin, in a strawberry design.

Red is the color of the day, and even though it’s July, red Icelandic poppies decorate the edges of the fields.

We savor the fresh smells and enjoy riding along the fields, but jump at the first opportunity to leave our bikes and climb the small hill for our first view of the Ostsee.

Later in the day, we check into our hotel, and return to another beach for some R & R.

We spend our days weaving back and forth between forests and fields. On our favorite days, we ride alongside the sea most of the day,

and take advantage of our “self-paced” tour, stopping when the spirit moves us.

The days blend together as we continue along the coast, through forests

and by fields.

We tolerate the wind,

and enjoy the quiet solitude of the water.

but we are not alone.

And yes, we also share the beaches with other visitors, but few will be pictured in the photos. Through experience, we have learned that Germans do not much care for others taking their picture.

The island of Hiddensee takes us further away from the city and closer to the sea. Mary braves the water, and we enjoy the slow pace of life here for the day.

As we depart on the ferry, hundreds of swans flank the waters. Adults and babies alike swim alongside and in between the parade of boats large and small.

Island magic awaits on the island of Rügen. It’s the place we feel closest to nature with its massive Beech forests and white cliffs. We ride through the national park on a long false flat, meaning it looks like it is flat, but instead steadily climbs. But the ride is worth it, as we climb down the stairs into the trees.

The light, shadows and shapes are quieting and we linger for a time before heading to the edge to explore the White Chalk Cliffs. While relaxing in the forest, I am reminded of the Bach Flower Remedies, of which Beech is one of the 8 original formulas. Curious to see what energy is offered from these great beings, I find this description of the Beech remedy from the Bach Center webpage. For an area of Germany long controlled by the GDR, the presence of these wonderful trees seem perfectly placed:

… as the remedy for people who ‘feel the need to see more good and beauty in all that surrounds them’…People in a Beech state are intolerant of difference. They lack compassion and understanding of the circumstances and paths that other people are given, and fail to see that they too are working towards perfection in their own ways…”

Not far beyond the edges of the forest are glimpses of the White Chalk Cliffs, part of the Jasmund National Park. At first glimpse, we see the section of the cliffs that collapsed in 2005. Following a winter thaw, the cliffs lost 50,000 cubic meters of the chalkrock onto the beach below.

Just down the path a bit, we get a clear view of the cliffs in their majesty. Tempting to find our way down to the waters edge, but the next port calls and we are on our way.

After so many years living in the desert, we are refreshed by the parade of colorful flowers,

and the sight of familiar plants like Rosehips.

Nothing seems to compare to days spent in the air and sun. As we head toward our final destination, these fence-post “greeters” seem to cheer us on.

Across the way, a lone crane finds lunch in the wheat field stubble.

Forgotten Women Sculptors of Berlin

We ride our bikes to see over 100 sculptures by Berlin women from the modernist era (most created between WWI and WWII). It’s the last weekend of this exhibition at The Georg Kolbe Museum: “The First Generation: Women Sculptors of Berlin Modernism.”

The look of peace emanating from this face was captured in bronze by the Marg Moll. Moll began her career as a painter, then shifted her medium to sculpture, inspired by Louise Schmidt. She is most famous for the sculpture “Dancer,” not part of this exhibition. In 1943, Moll and her artist husband lost nearly all of their work when their home was bombed.

Many of the ten female sculptors with works on display sculpted bronze, wood, and marble. They flourished during the 1920s, a time when Berlin celebrated cultural diversity. The celebration abruptly ended with the rise of National Socialism. The Nazis closed art schools, stripped women of their status as artists and teachers, and banned them from purchasing materials because of their gender, because they were Jewish, or both.

Some sculptors focused on familiar animals. Renée Sintenis sculpted this donkey, but she’s most famous for sculpting the “Berlin Bear.” This figure welcomes drivers into the city at the former Dreilinden border crossing near the Zellendorf neighborhood of Berlin (photo below from Flickr):

Sintenis was named to the Academy of Arts the 1920s, but expelled in 1934 because her grandmother was Jewish. In 1955, she became one of the first female professors at the University of the Arts in Berlin.

Gross Daphne (Large Daphne) by Renée Sintenis.

Other animal sculptures had a more exotic quality to them.

The small-format bushbaby (nocturnal primate native to east Africa), was created by Christa Winsloe. A sculptor in her early career, Winsloe focused most of her time on writing. Her plays were the basis for several films including Mädchen in Uniform (Girls in Uniform), loosely autobiographical about her experience in a military-like boarding school, and considered to be icon of early lesbian cinema. But like many female sculptors of that time, much of her work has been lost.

Louise Stomps was one of the first women to study at Berlin’s University of the Arts in 1928. After WWII, Frankfurt art dealer Hanna Bekker vom Rath supported her by regularly exhibiting the sculptor’s organic and abstract forms. The city of Berlin later purchased several of Stomps’ works in bronze and wood.

Kleine Ruhende (Small Dormant Figure) by Louis Stomps.

Sakral (Sacred) by Louise Stomps.

Kleiner Rufer (Little Caller) by Louise Stomps.

Käthe Kollwitz was the first woman elected to the Prussian Academy of Arts. A committed socialist and pacifist, the artist is known for depicting working class people suffering from the effects of hunger, poverty and war. She lost her youngest son during World War I. After the pain she and other families endured, she wrote: “There has been enough of dying! Let not another man fall!”

Mutter mit zwei kinder (Mother with two children) by Käthe Kollwitz.

Abschied (Farewell) by Käthe Kollwitz.

In 1933, the Nazi party forced Kollwitz to resign her position at the Academy of Künste, and banned her work from being displayed. However, the Nazis did use one of her images, “Mother and Child” as propoganda. The Nazis declared her to be a “degenerate artist” in 1936. During the World War II, she fled to a small town near Dresden, where she died in 1945, just days before the war ended.

She is honored in Berlin with a statue in Kollwitzplatz in the Prenzlauer berg neighborhood, where a street is also named after her.

Gottes Hand (God’s Hand) by Milly Steger.

Milly Steger became municipal sculptor for the city of Hagen (in western Germany), which commissioned her to create large-scale architectural sculptures. Four larger than life female nudes she made for the facade of the Hagen Theater created a scandal and made the artist known throughout Germany. Like other women sculptors, her work was declared “degenerate” by the Nazis. She worked for just a few years in Berlin after WWII; she died of cancer in 1948.

Hagen Theater figures by Milly Steger. From website: https://www.wp.de/staedte/hagen/diskussion-ueber-theater-zukunft-in-hagen-auf-den-8-mai-vertagt-id7873817.html

There is a different feeling in these rooms of sculpture created by women, most noticeably in the figures’ facial expressions. The female figures here are loving, joyous, sad, intense, beautiful, sexual — a range of human being-ness.

After wandering through this amazing exhibit, we explore the small garden and works by sculptor Georg Kolbe.

A lovely café lunch energizes us for the bike ride home through the shady Grunewald, and back to our Halensee neighborhood.