Journalist | Editor | Chairperson | Germany expert / correspondent | in Hilversum & Berlin
It’s a blast from the past.
Two weeks on the white beach. Playing volleyball. If you feel like it. Reading a book. If you feel like it. An almost turquoise sea, blue sky above. And besides that, seashells and little white balls of salami. And a slice of cucumber.
That’s how it always was. Back then. When I was little.
Continue reading “Urlaub”There it was. A sunny summer Sunday. Finally.
After all the hauling, unpacking, thinking, and organizing, we let it all go and started working on our “this-is-fun-so-let’s-do-it” list. Enjoying life.
First stop: Mauerpark.
Continue reading “Berlin Summer Sunshine”We’re here.
Four days of packing with the sweetest in-laws (because let’s be honest, who wants to help with something like that? Well, they did.)
One morning, we loaded up the truck with brother-in-law A. and cousin R. The latter ended up driving it partway through the day, so we never would have made it without him either.
Arrival in Berlin: 11:15 p.m.
Continue reading “Arrived”It’s another one of those important German-Dutch days.
This morning we went to the German Consulate to apply for a passport for our daughter. Perfect timing, we thought.
Continue reading “Two Souls”We sort. We tidy up. And we reorganize the to-do lists in our heads every single day.
And as we do that, we realize that soon we’ll have to get by without a number of really great, handy, and beautiful Dutch things. Here’s a list.
Continue reading “All the things I'll miss”So now we have to start thinking about it. Because where are we ultimately going to live in a city with 3.5 million people?
There’s a huge selection.
We could check out the trendy and well-known neighborhoods that are all over Lonely
Planet. Mitte, Prenzlauer Berg, Kreuzberg.
Fourteen years ago, I wanted to leave.
Away from the big city. Away from my parents. To be with my boyfriend in the Netherlands.
Off to a new world, all on my own. Studying in a language that was familiar, yet still a bit foreign. In Groningen, which was completely uncharted territory for me at the time.
It took a while, but that brand-new, still unfamiliar little country became my new home. And it still is—so much time later and despite all the political and economic upheavals.
Continue reading “Back to Berlin (for real!)”It wasn’t that long ago. I’m shuffling down the hallways here with my bag full of syllabi. I pull out a yellow-and-blue chair at a table in the cafeteria and sit down for a croquette sandwich. Back then, it was still an exotic explosion on my German tongue.
Behind the tall white doors with blue handles, I sat between the benches listening to the English teacher trying to coax a properly British “Winnie the Pouuuuuuuuh” out of me.
I’m talking about 1998, the year I began my studies in Groningen.
Continue reading “Visiting Lecturer”Last year, the three of us were standing on a drafty, cold platform in Hengelo. It was the morning of the 24th, and we were waiting for our train to Berlin.
It never came. For winter-related reasons: the overhead wires near Hanover were frozen. Not a single train headed east that day. And every square meter between Zeeland and the Baltic Sea was covered in meters of snow. There was no escaping it.
No, not a zoo. And not an amusement park, either. Well, okay, playgrounds—we’ve done those. Because there are plenty of them in this city. But this week, I decided to try the alternative kids’ route.
And it takes you past shops and cafés—places where both parents and kids can relax. No screaming, no whining, no restless running back and forth, and no tugging on skirts or pants. That route really does exist!
Continue reading “Kiezkind”