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Swept Away by the Wadden Sea
NORDFRIESLAND, GERMANY – At the Wadden Sea, the wind and the waves are the kind of neighbours that would have you calling the cops: they howl, they trespass and sometimes they let themselves right in your front door.
That’s exactly what happened in 1962, when Hartwig Binge was just four years old.
“The water came inside the houses and we put the sheep in the hallway,” recalls the farmer. “My father carried me through the water to my uncle’s house, which was a bit higher.”
The phenomenon he’s describing is a “landunter,” which translates to “land under.”
Binge’s family has lived on Hallig Hooge (population: 120) for four generations. Like many longtime residents, he knows that landunters usually take place in the winter and last for a couple of days. When he senses a flood, he simply gathers in his livestock and waits.
You might think SCUBA gear is the next logical step. But for centuries, locals have built their houses on manmade mounds called warfts that become remarkable individual islands during landunters. Each house also has a reinforced “safe room”... just in case. Read More...
Homepage for the Holidays!
I love the scent of a real tree, the look of lights twinkling against the snow and the possibility of eating sugar plums, even though I don’t have a freakin’ clue what those are.
I even sorta, kinda, maybe like Wham’s Last Christmas - even after the 100 billionth play at the mall. (Pretty much the worst video ever though...I can’t believe the edited out the orgy scene)
To indulge my love of this gloriously excessive holiday, for the month of December I will be dedicating this blog to all things XMAS - cooking, crafting, decorating, obnoxious carolling, movie watching, weight gaining, some travel, gift ideas and general merrymaking! Follow me as I make my way from Toronto back home to Vancouver Island, where I vow to add to the dysfunction by assaulting my family with my camera and compulsive need to blog!
Here are a couple o’ pics from “Last Christmas” - my bros and I giving our mom a human sleigh ride, and my dad simultaneously playing the keys and cutting the turkey.
Most importantly, I want to hear from you! Got a favourite holiday recipe, craft or tradition you’d like to share? Just email me a photo of yourself with said cake/wreath/game of naked holiday twister along with the instructions and I’ll post it here!
As Emilio Estevez uttered in Young Guns: “I’ll make you famous.”
(Of course, then he shot the person. I wouldn’t do that, not at Christmas.)
To kick things off, I offer you this look at HOLIDAY DESSERTS FROM EUROPE, a little story I penned for aol.ca.
~Hark, what is yon sound? 'Tis the sweet tooth singing "Hallelujah!" For between the sugar plums, the candy canes, the gingerbread and the chocolate oranges, Christmas is a veritable blizzard of granulated sugar. Looking for some new ideas to enliven your table this year? Try some old ones. Check out our gallery of traditional European holiday desserts.~
(Click this link for descriptions and recipes from England, Italy, France, Spain, Germany and Denmark!)
Remembering the Wall and The Fall
Story and photos by Reb Stevenson
On November 9, if all goes according to plan and no klutzes intervene during the set-up, a two-kilometre chain of giant dominoes will tumble in sequence from Berlin’s Reichstag to the Brandenburg Gate and on to Potsdamer Platz. Then an orchestra will play, kicking off a two day “Festival of Joy.”
Far more than a publicity stunt touting the joy of dominoes (though, lord knows, they could use a boost), the spectacle marks the 20th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall.
If you can’t make the party, there are plenty of ongoing events and exhibitions taking place throughout the city to solemnly note the 28 years that the wall stood and celebrate the day that it toppled.
Here are some of the options: Read More...
Just Another Day At Work
Into the Deep, Dark Woods
2. Having a terrible spell cast upon you.
3. Ingesting poison.
4. Administering poison.
5. Listening to the ’80s hair band Poison (well...I think that’s frightening).
6. Being given the old heave-ho from your loving dad, who has shacked up with a warty new wife.
Hamelin’s old town is delightfully picturesque, but today I went off in search of something a little moodier than rat toys and McDonalds’ in Tudor houses. The air was thick with moisture, lending a nice gloomy touch to the area (yes!). I was headed up the mountain that overlooks Hamelin - possibly the very mountain over which the Pied Piper led the children, never to be seen again (double yes!). As soon as I started up the steep footpath, I felt so very alone. And vulnerable. And - what the HELL was that leaf noise!?!!!! - jumpy.
CRUNCH! CRACK! CREAK!
The forest has its own voice, you see. It tells you this: there is most certainly a hungry wolf lurking around the next tree. Or, if not a wolf, it’s a big fat Wildschwein that smells pork sausage on your breath and wants to avenge his cousins. No - it’s a cursed woodsman who hasn’t seen a woman for a hundred years, and boy oh boy is he ever “amorous.”
(Let us keep this blog PG rated).
Moreover, the forest reveals this secret: out of fear, humans walking alone through the woods develop wild imaginations - so wild, they start inventing stories that aren’t true. You might even call them fairy tales.
A piece of the Pied Piper
Oh wunderbar, nobody speaks English
German may well be related to English, but when you are already hangry* and receive a menu that contains about 900% more letters than you are used to, those shared linguistic roots aren’t enough to get you fed.
I’ve been travelling in the North of Germany for five days now and have come to the conclusion that English is as scarce as green vegetables ‘round here.
Now, when you go to Germany, a dozen or so know-it-alls will probably say: “don’t worry, they speak English better than Americans.” Little do you know, your sources probably WERE talking to Americans, but were so drunk** they mistook them for Germans.
In any case, I strongly urge you to bring a phrasebook. Conveying “just a minute” with your index finger and flipping through numerous pages in order to find the translation for “one” is character building. Especially when you realize that you were ALREADY expressing “one” with that very finger.
Failing that, here’s a list of some phrases you might find useful:
Hello. Hallo.
I don’t speak German. Ich spreche kein Deutch.
Do you speak English? Sprechen sie Englisch?
Yes!? Ja!? Thaaaank you. Daaaaanke.
Which way is a public toilet? In welcher richtung ist eine offentliche toilette?
I have diarrhea. Ich habe durchfall.
Seriously man, don’t look at me with that confused face we have approximately six seconds here. (Just go pale and flail arms wildly).
.......
I had an accident. Ich hatte einen unfall.
Sorry. Entshuldigung.
Goodbye. Auf wiedersehen.
*so hungry you’re prone to angry outbursts, especially when debating directions or walking really, really far.
**Oktoberfest, naturally.
This is Hooge!
But in 1362, the flood DID spell disaster. Back then, there were tons of Halligen and they were well populated...until the sea rose and swept most of them away. The death toll was in the thousands.
Many of the houses have thatched roofs and the oldest (like Königspesel, below, which dates to 1760) are full of Dutch tiles. There’s also a museum, little cinema, several cafes and souvenir shops on the island.
Cool, hey? If you’ve got questions or comments about Hallig Hooge, please leave them below!