The year is 2012. June.

I had just quit my full time job to become a nomad.

I would have forgotten my nomad anniversary but the onset of the Euros have brought back a flood of memories. Then, the fixtures gods threw up Denmark Vs Germany.

Again. 

My thoughts turned towards that fateful summer.

I had got rid of all my earthly possessions and packed my life into a backpack to start my 2 month interrail trip across Europe. I remember checking into the Generator Copenhagen on a cloudy muggy day in June, looking out onto a sea of spires, that eclectic range of architecture and feeling a surge of excitement. I remember just going for an aimless wonder, catching sunset at Nyhavn, the harbour area before heading into town to watch the inaugural Euro 2012 game between Denmark and Germany with my friend Alex Berger.

My iPhone 4 photo of that sunset at Nyhavn, the 17th century waterfront of Copenhagen

Euro 2012 Fanzone park. Glorious scenes as Denmark win against Germany.

I can still remember it. The chaos and excitement after Denmark’s unexpected win over Germany. The countless beers that followed after. 4am. Sitting at the bus stop wasted with friends. I sometime wish I could bottle that excitement and anticipation. Looking back at the pictures of Copenhagen from that summer, I can still feel a bit of the old excitement  and energy coming back. Travel gives you that buzz, that glorious anticipation of the unknown, the luxury where pretty much anything could happen. There was a rough itinerary but no big plan, other than to visit a few hostels which would form the basis of my first ever book, The Luxury Hostels of Europe.

Travel is a wonderful drug, the best one. Even after all these years of travel, I love the act of travel. Packing the backpack. Checking in for the flight online or checking the train reservation, planning the trip to train station. Stocking up on travel snacks. Reading up a little about the place and making notes on my phone. With every beloved ritual, comes a set of rituals, each, cherished that all form to become one wonderful act of escape, of self care and love. 

I miss travelling that way. It might come as a surprise to you but I can’t remember the last time I had a proper holiday. Now, you might think, you are the guy who constantly travels the world for a living. True, but there is a difference between travelling for pleasure and travelling for work. I chose to make travel my lifestyle, my work so my confession might sound a bit rich to you. Don’t get me wrong. I wake up everyday, happy. Still, when you build your life , business around travel and have no home base and have to plan your movements 6/12 months in advance, you miss those moment of spontaneity, that thrill of the unknown. We try to build in some time for downtime but the last few years have been a bit of slog, working as much as we can to pay off all the debts, build up our bank balance after the barren years of the pandemic. Now, as the pandemic disappears in the rear view and we can again look forward to a life of rich possibilities, I am dreaming of escape. Of wondering aimlessly till sunset. Wasted at 4am in a new city with friends. Who can relate?

I also seem to have the inability to know how to switch off and relax. If I decide to take the day off. I’ll charge the kindle up to read a book while enjoying a coffee. I will probably have patience to read though a few pages before I either feel tired or I go back to the bad habit of just mindlessly browsing my social media feeds before I take the dreaded decision of checking my emails! What kind of an idiot does that on their ‘day off’? Maybe, it is a habit I have picked up from being self employed. I find long walks to be one thing I can do on my days off.

I do find that being with friends, gives me the permission to switch off. I lied a little earlier.  I actually did have somewhat of a holiday last year in Greece, when our good friend from Berlin, Pascal visited us when we were in Athens. As a first time visitor to the mainland, he was keen to hire a car and explore, so we suggested a roadtrip to the Peloponnese. 

It was a magical few days. The weather was perfect.  The landscape was rugged, wild and overgrown. There was a wonderful sense of isolation about all the places we visited.  I loved Napflio, the old Venetian outpost with its beautiful fortress sitting in the azure blue Argonic Gulf, its narrow cobblestone cafes with a magnificent backdrop of mountain scenery. When the daytrippers left town, I would wallow in the silence of centuries and just look in awe at the fortress, glowering in the dark. There’s this slight sense of decay in parts, which just makes Napflio even more haunting.

Later, we visited the stunning hilltop fortress of Larissa. It was close to sunset and the abandoned fortress, overgrown with wild flowers and weeds had this almost magical, ethereal glow. That broad expansive view of the surrounding towns and the Argolic plains will long remain in memory. We visited a few wineries and drank lots of good wine. The days were infinite, unplanned and had a sense of real adventure that sometimes I feel is missing in my work and travels. In keeping with the unplanned, offbeat theme of the trip, I lugged around with me an analogue Olympus OM 10 camera to document the trip. It had been probably 20 years since I touched an analogue camera. 

When the pictures came out, phew a lot of happy and old emotions came back. Here’s a selection…

I think, many of us are in this nostalgic frame of mind, often longing for a simpler way of life which involved less tech, less being ‘on’ and being in the moment. Or, maybe this is all just a way of us trying to reconnect with an older version of ourselves. 

Life comes full circle. Another summer. Denmark vs Germany. Denmark wins again? Another chance to rewrite the script. Another chance to write a new story. Create some good memories and pause, remember the older version of yourself. Nostalgic but happy, still optimistic and excited for what lies ahead.

We stumble down the sulphur-yellow dirt track, no sign of Claire’s secret beach. In the past 15 minutes we have been honoured with just the odd lonesome goat for company and the swallows, dancing above our heads. I take a slurp of my water. It is past midday but already the April sun feels strong on our skin. We reach a dead end. Force of nature implores me to look at my phone for answers. According to Google Maps, the track or beach does not exist. We are in no-mans lands. I look up again, into the distance, my eyes swimming in the most perfect shade of deep blue Mediterranean Sea. Sabrina reminds me that Claire, our new Gozitan acquaintance had mentioned a turn off to the right. We retrace our steps up the dusty yellow track.

Foraging for wild fennel in Gozo

I notice the clumps of wild feral fennel casually growing amidst the poppy flowers. We find our turn off, an overgrown path covered with a thicket of wildflowers of all the colours of the rainbow. I pause to take photos of them so that someone can identify them to me later. Besides the happy dance of swallows there is also the sweet meditative hum of bees, frolicking in the meadow of wildflowers. I close my eyes. Sometimes, travel presents you with these moments of almost near perfection.I soon hear a wild yelp of happiness from Sabrina. I open my eyes and see she has ventured forth, via a craggy slope through the impenetrable haze of wildflowers.

Path to the secret beach

She has found the path to the mythical secret beach. It has the perfect view of the dreamy turquoise blue waters of Comino in the distance. We must have sat there in perfect silence for almost half an hour before a couple came. There was a look of surprise and then a big smile. 

‘So you know about this beach too.’

We nodded our heads reassuringly and raised our hands, half apologetically to reassure them…the secret stays with us. We retrace our steps up the track. The goat had disappeared. When we reach the top of the track and look down again, there was no visible landmark in the horizon of our secret beach, just the swallows dancing in the sky.

Locals sharing their tips for Malta in our scrapbook

Maybe there are no secrets in travel anymore.

It was better before. We had to use our imagination and not rely on Instagram to visualise a place. Maybe its an old age thing, but there is this horrible tendency of people in my age group to romanticise the past. Travelling was more fun, authentic. There were less crowds in the most popular travel hotspots. You didn’t need to get up at 5 am to see the Trevi fountain. You could fly Ryanair around Europe for as little as €2 return. Plus, there was no hassle with carrying liquids or restrictions of carry-on luggage. Hostels were super cheap. I remember travelling with my trusted Lonely Planet guidebook and the 3 hostels listed seemed to have room for everyone.

Then came the age of the internet. Social media. Suddenly, there was a huge amount of information at the tips of our hands. We were in theory, better equipped to travel more and better. The opening hours of restaurants could be found without the need of a phone call. We could find the list of the ten best things to do in Berlin in a flash thanks to the boom in blogs. There was no need to pop into the tourist information office or speak to travel advisors anymore. No need for human interaction. Everything you needed to know about a city or place was one Google search away. Now we have AI tools to help plan our travel itineraries. Nothing is left to chance. We have our bottomless bucket list of places to see before we die. Instagram over nourishes our desire and dream to travel. With so many places to see and so little time, travel becomes another task, another list of things to finish. We arrive home, miserable and unfulfilled. 

Meeting the friendly locals of Mgarr

‘If I was to tell a tourist what to do in Gozo, I would tell them to go swimming on one of our amazing beaches where locals spend lot of time in spring and summer. I would tell them to do a cooking class. Immerse yourself in the everyday life of the island. Go to any cafe or bar.’

Claire, Mojo.

I am back in Malta after almost 8 years. I remember looking at the old photos and feel like it was a different era and a different me. One of the highlights of my trip was visiting the small, traditional fishing village of Marsaxlokk in the south eastern corner of Malta. I remember on a sleepy late September afternoon having the whole waterfront to myself, a bottle of the local Cisk lager in hand. I also remember wandering the narrow streets of the Mdina, the silent city, timeless and this feeling of almost walking back in time. 10 years later and I am excited to be back in Malta but a little nervous. It is like when you reconnect with old friends and wonder, will it be as nice as before?

The popularity of the island in the years past has soared thanks to the popularity of shows like Game of Thrones. We revisit Mdina and it seems a lot less silent. The crowds have multiplied. Luckily, I had been warned by some locals to avoid Mdina and visit the neighbouring village of Rabat. Rabat feels as timeless and enchanting as Mdina but when we visited, there was hardly any crowds to be seen, just the odd local. We were grateful to Mark from the Kings Crown pub for the tip.

Confession time. It was not entirely by chance we met Mark. Philip told us about Stephen. Stephen spoke of Mark. We met Philip thanks to a card game we invented. Let me explain.

For this trip to Malta we had decided to do something different. Instead of planning the trip to death via researching endless blog posts, Pinterest boards and Instagram galleries, chewing through a guidebook, we decided to have a different kind of trip. The whole trip would be a game of chance, constructed with the help of speaking to random locals. No guidebook could be used. No smartphone too, unless we were completely lost. Approaching locals randomly to ask for travel tips can be awkward sometimes so I had to come up with a device, so I thought why not create a deck of cards with questions to the most common things you would want to know on holiday. The cards would help reduce the awkwardness of breaking the ice. The idea would be that locals would draw a card and then give us a tip based on the question on the card. We would then follow on that tip and also ask the local to recommend another local we should meet and help us on our quest. 

Sunset at the saltpans in Xwejni

The trip

So how did it go? Our experiment started in Gozo when we met the wonderful friendly Philip Spiteri from the popular Ta Philip restaurant. He pretty much introduced us to the whole island. After drawing the card asking him to name his favourite lunch spot, he recommended we meet the lovely Claire who runs Mojo restaurant in Victoria, Gozo. Claire, was responsible for introducing us to the secret beach I mentioned earlier. When he drew the card asked to name his favourite pub, he recommended we visit the Gleneagles pub in Mgarr Harbour, run by the affable Tony who turned out to be a goldmine for tips and also a man with many stories to tell of the island. While there is sadly no such thing as a time machine, with some people you meet on your travels, you have a connection with the past, with all the magic and sadness that has passed before, that sense of almost being there when they describe all the emotions, the stories of the people they met in their bar for the last 40 years. Tony was that kind of person. A connection to Gozo’s past.

Our wonderful driver and guide, Alex

We ended three memorable days with a bag full of new memories and friends. We ended up in a lot of new places and a very different perspective of Malta. I would need an entire day just to tell you about all the magic but let me finish with the end of our trip. Picture the most incredible sunset. We were at Dingli cliffs. We had received the tip from countless locals. It seems like everyone had got the same tip too. The car park was jammed and the viewing point was already a tussle between visitors, scrambling to get that perfect picture of the sunset that would immortalise the moment in history. Led by our driver, Alex we walked further away from the crowds, along the cliffs until we were strangled by the empty silence of the big wide open sea. A retired police officer who hunted down local smugglers, Alex knew every street, every dust track like the back of his hand. He wasn’t a man of many words but there were times when showing us the island, I would see a flicker of emotion in his eye. I saw his eyes widen when we reached the spot. We were a million miles from everything and just the open wide sea, bathed in this golden light as that fiery red ball of fire slowly melted into the horizon. Somewhere in the distance was Africa. It was then I fished out my pack of Twistees.

It was a tip from local chef Stephen La Rosa. 

‘Do not leave the island without eating this!’

We sadly had no Cisk but those twistees tasted damn good. We ate it to our hearts content in perfect silence, till the darkness swallowed the sun and our shadows. I then gave Alex the biggest hug and I think we both had a tear in our eyes.

Hanging out with the wonderful Tony, owner of Gleneagles Bar

What makes moments like this and travel so perfect?

No matter how much we perfect technology and AI, some things in life can’t be manufactured. In the end, it comes down to timing. Plus, also being in the right place. Serendipity. In this sense, Malta was perfect. 

The beauty of our adventure was that it was nothing to do with luck but all about being brave and taking a chance. So, my message is simple. If you do visit Malta, leave the guidebook and phone behind in the room. Go to a bar. Order the local drink. Have a random conversation with a local. Give them the permission to share their home with you. You don’t need the card game. I promise you, you will be surprised at what you might discover. 

In the end, it is really simple. Travel is all about the people. It becomes so much more meaningful and exciting when we connect with locals, find out their story and maybe learn something new that changes your perspective.

Turns out, there are still secrets in travel. You just need to ask the right people.

Further reading

Best cheap eats in Gozo

Cheap eats guide to Malta

Things to do in Malta and Gozo

Disclaimer: The trip to Malta was possible thanks to the kind support of Visit Malta UK and partners. However, all the opinions expressed here, good and bad are entirely my own. Plus, a huge thank you to all the locals we met in Malta and Gozo who made our trip unforgettable. More Malta and Gozo stories and tips coming up soon on the blog. In the meantime, please visit the Visit Malta website for more ideas to plan your trip.

It was a similar misty, moody day at the end of the summer. South of Dresden, the landscape becomes widescreen, spread out like a Super 8 film and terraced vineyards arch steeply into your view. They stand sturdily upright, protectively framing the terraced landscape, as they’ve done dutifully, for almost the last 850 years. I close my eyes and imagine what the valley would have looked like back in the 12th century. The area had been considered something of an economic backwater, undeveloped and unloved until a senior member of the Catholic Church, Bishop Benno had the grand idea of planting vines there, which legend dictates, was to help cultivate wine for his Holy Mass. An unusual intervention but then again as Europe’s most northern wine growing region, the Sachsen wine region has always defied the norm. Even when the odds have been stacked against them. After overcoming the steep decline in temperatures that swept Europe in the 18th/19th century (that turned Sachsen wine into a sour, unforgettable mess), in early 19th century, Saxony was hit by the Philoxmena plague that destroyed the vines. That, combined with the fact that large breweries of the time reduced the price of their beer, sounded the death knell of the wine industry. After the barren years of communism, wine making in the region has made a comeback in the post reunification era, thanks to the joint collective efforts of independent winemakers in the region.

Cheese and wine tasting, Pfunds Molkerei, Dresden

Diesbar-Seusslitz

Now there’s even a wine route for you to follow and help discover the region.  Winding its way for almost 60 km along the Elbe River, the Saxon Wine Route was established in 1992 to help hikers discover Germany’s smallest wine growing region. It is a beautiful trail that promises a fantastic mix of beautiful vineyards, cosy traditional wine cellars, historic towns, sophisticated architecture along the river Elbe, between the starting point which is in Pirna and the  end in Diesbar-Seußlitz.

There are a number of ways to discover the region, depending on the time of the year and how much time you have on hand. You can tackle the route through individual legs, circular walks, or go for the whole distance. We started in the middle with Radebeul, at the gates of Saxony’s gorgeous baroque capital, Dresden.

Radebeul is a dreamy little town. It has this lovely relaxed laid back vibe, thanks to the impressive hillside vineyard landscape edging up from the Elbe. There are lots of artist workshops, galleries and cute boutique shops to explore plus you have one of the oldest narrow gauge railway lines in Germany, where nostalgia evoking steam trains chug their way to neighbouring Radeberg.

In addition there are a bunch of independent wineries, which form the basis of one of the town’s most popular events, the Radebeul Winefest. Celebrated at the end of September to mark the onset of Autumn, the festival besides marking the initial wine harvest also takes place in parallel with the Internationales Wandertheater Festival (International Itinerant Theatre Festival).

You have an intoxicating combination of Radebeulers chugging down the sweet young Federweisser wine and at the same time art, clowns, musicians and actors turning the cobbled streets into a stage. With all the wineries of the Saxon Wine Route showcasing their wines, it is the perfect introduction to the route.

In what becomes a bit of a ritual in the days to come, I wake up at the crack of dawn to catch the most magical sunrise by the Elbe.The autumn mist hangs mystically in the air creating this cauldron of deep blue smoke. I don’t know whether it’s the hangover still talking (another ritual I would develop over the days to come) but for a few split seconds, the Elbe for a brief moment, seems to rise above me, serpent like, into the hazy morning sky.

The mist lifts, sky breaks to reveal the most glorious Autumnal sunny morning. My head, still aches from all that delicious Federweisser so it’s perfect timing to head to one of the wine route’s most famous and popular wineries, Schloss Wackerbarth.

Exquisitely Saxon is the motto of Schloss Wackerbarth but can be applied to most vineyards here. One of the distinguishing characterstics of vineyards like Schloss Wackerbarth are their centuries old steep vineyards bounded by dry stone walls. Maintaining these stone walls, some hundreds of years old, is an expensive setup that demands a great deal of manual care. Working the vines, on these steep terraces is a real labour of love, a lot more exhausting than simply driving a tractor through a flat field of vines.

The end result is pretty special. The grapes are handpicked. The vines deliver incredibly mineral, intensely flavored grapes. Also the grapes here achieve a surprising ripeness, odd, considering their northern latitude. When you consider the small quantities these wines are produced and their local popularity, finding them outside of Germany, or even outside of Saxony for that fact is quite difficult, what you sample here is unique. That’s what makes any trip along the Saxon Wine Route, a very special experience.

Exquisitely Saxon. In my mind, the motto symbolises the Saxon way  of wine harvesting and other things in life: exquisitely hard, but ultimately one that has the best end result in mind. Keeping that motto to heart we hike to the neighbouring winery of Hoflößnitz. Sometimes dubbed the ‘stairway to heaven’, walking up the old stone staircase of the winery, almost out of breath, I do feel for a few moments close to heaven. I reach out my hands to see if I can touch the infinite blue and then stare away disappointed, only to be gifted the most stunning panoramic view – the winery and the iconic Belvedere, where only just moments before I had been enjoying a glass of delicious Sekt.

After an hour jaunt we pass the famous Spitzhaus staircase, where from the top of its 397 stairs, you get a fantastic panoramic view of Radebeul. If you’ve timed your ascent perfectly, you’ll spot in the distance, the impressive sight of the Radebeul-Radeburg  steam locomotive winding its way through the Lößnitzgrund. It is a great place for a picnic which was what we did. If you are glutton for punishment, the Spitzhaus is also home to Mount Everest Treppenmarathon, which the website site of the German Ultramarathon Association describes the run as “the heaviest and largest extreme stair run in the world”. The idea is to the climb the length of Mount Everest in upto 24 hours. 8,848 meters can be covered in 100 laps. Not, for me. Lets get back to the wine.

Hoflößnitz winery is the cradle of Saxon viticulture, representing a 600 year proud history of wine culture on the slopes of Losnitz. The vineyards dates back to 1203 when Wettin Margrave Wilhelm I acquired the village of Kotchenbroda in 1401 with all its fields, meadows and vineyards. The centrepiece of the winery is the historic Lust und Berghaus , built for Saxon Elector Johann Georg I in 1650 which now houses the Saxon Viticulture Museum. You can dig into the centuries old rich history of wine making, the work of the winemakers of past centuries and their equipment. You’ll find maps, models and works of art that illustrate the peculiarities of viticulture in the Elbe valley. Other notable reasons to visit is to see Albert Eyckhout’s (a court painter, from the Netherlands) lavish ceiling frescoes in the castle’s banquet hall,  a masterpiece of art that features 80 Brazilian birds. Besides guided tours through the historic vineyards, it is worth noting that in the Press House is housed the Saxon Wine Route Visitor centre, where you can plan your trip along the wine route. Last, but most importantly at the end you can sample a delightful glass of Hoflößnitz wine at the onsite Weinstube.

‘Klein aber fein!’  (Small but beautiful)

Katharina Pollmer

Katharina replied with a twinkle in her eye when I asked what makes the wine route and area unique. One thing I’ve quickly realised over the course of my trip is that most of the wineries, barring a few major producers like Schloss Wackerbarth are quite small in their scale. The focus in boutique wineries like Schuh is less about scale but more in producing wine ‘with character and soul’. This passion for character and soul reflects in their onsite winery restaurant where we have a fabulous 4 course dinner at night. Klein aber fein is also a perfect way to describe the village of Sörnewitz and the vineyards too. On the steep slopes of the village, we spot the dreamy spires of Meissen’s cathedral on the horizon. To our left, we see the misty eyed Elbe, an ever constant, reassuring presence on our journey. A feeling of deep satisfaction sweeps over me with as I sip on a glass of Katharina’s wonderful riesling.

‘I can escape into nature easily here which is perfect for the times we live in.’

Katharina Sommer

A few months have passed since our trip to Saxony. I’m back in Berlin, deep in the musty red roots of Autumn. The trip and our wine filled days of wonder and fairytale castles, beautiful villages are a distant memory. All I have is a bottle or two of some of the wines from the trip. We are a few days into another long lockdown awaits in Berlin and the rest of the Germany. There will be plenty of time to reminiscence about our trip to Saxony and other trips. While I love the comfort of the place we stay in and Berlin itself, somehow a nostalgic part of me longs to be back in Saxony. I miss the daily series of slow rituals that characterise the best holidays. For us in Saxony it was to get up at the crack of dawn, enjoy sunrise by the Elbe, watching the autumn mist hang above the meadows, a filling breakfast (which always true to local tradition, involve lots of delicious local cheeses, meats and a glass of the local sparkling wine Sekt), then a long hike which involved maybe a beautiful fairytale castle or two, then onto a winery, sampling a few glasses of wine accompanied by a dreamy sunset and then after a delicious meal, we sunk happily into one of the many beautiful hotel beds along the wine route and eagerly awaited the start of another day on the wine route. The more I discovered the route, the more I wondered why still so little is known about this region and its wines in UK and beyond. That not only goes for the wine but for Saxony itself. I search in my mind for an answer and that brings me back to the penultimate winery of our trip and probably our most memorable one- Weingut Klaus Zimmerling.

Picture this. It was another spectacular late summer sunset by the Elbe. We’re standing in the vineyard of Klaus Zimmerling, high in the steep rolling hills above the picture postcard village of Pillnitz. When you see scenes like this , you understand why Dresden once earned the epitaph ‘Florence on the Elbe.’ For a moment I feel like I’m in Tuscany.

The fiery ball of orange, sinking into the horizon saturates our skin and wine glasses with beautiful hues of colours – orange, pink and then purple. While sipping on the wine I admire one of the graceful female sculptures, by his wife, Malgorzata Chodakowska.  I don’t know whether it’s Malgorzata’s subtle ethereal sculptures or the wine talking but I feel that I’m somewhere quite magical. There we were, sunk in green lush rich fields, interspersed with tall magnificent trees, bathed in the rich glow. In the distance, Klaus points out the mystical fairytale vista of the Sachsen Switzerland mountains.

‘You should come to Saxony with an open mind and discover the region for yourself.’

Klaus Zimmerling

Until then, Klaus Zimmerling had been a man of few words. Only when showing us the landscape or uncorking another bottle of wine, I see his eyes sparkle. I posed to him the same question as to why so little is known about the wine region. It could be the fact, that the region produces only 0.2% of Germany’s wines. Zimmerling only produces around 14,000 bottles a year which are quickly sold out. The wine is more expensive than the average bottle of German wine. In an era where everything is built for mass consumption, I find it comforting that the wine I maybe drinking, will be no longer – tomorrow. In uncertain times like this, where the future is difficult to predict, it is more important that we savour the smaller details and gifts of life. Like a good bottle of wine. I have two bottles of Zimmerling’s signature high-quality organic Riesling wine left. I will save it for the cold nights ahead. It will be a moment worth waiting for, only, a brief few moments, to be transported back to memories of a beautiful late summer by the serpentine Elbe river. Memories of early misty mornings, of some good wine and the eternal hope of better times to comes around the bend.

Essential facts

Planning your trip

We stayed in a mix of hotels within the wineries ( was perfect!) and aparthotels-all very decently priced. Will share more practical information in our next post which will be a ‘how to’ guide for exploring the Saxony Wine Route. So stay tuned for that post. Plus, in the meantime, if you are thinking of planning a trip to Saxony in the near future, checkout their new microsite – Saxony Travel Dreams, where you’ll find lots of inspiration & practical tips.

Disclaimer

Please note that alongside Sabrina, I was invited to Saxony to write and create a video about the Saxony Wine Route. All the opinions expressed in this piece are entirely my own. I had planned to do this trip so I was really grateful for this trip and opportunity, especially give the year we had with little or no work. So I’d like to say a huge thank you to Dorothea, Nadine, Wolfgang and the TMGS team for inviting us back to Saxony and sharing their beautiful region with us. We hope to return soon!

Hungry and feeling miserable, for a brief moment as we walk outside, I feel that temporary state of panic that sets in when you set foot in a new destination. Had it been a smart idea to come to Lisbon in winter? I park my thoughts and alongside Sabrina, brave the swirling rain, to find a place to eat. It’s past 10 but we’re lucky to find a pastelaria open on Rua Augusta, just a block away from the hostel. Through the sheet of rain, I can make out the faint silhouette of the triumphal arch of Rua Augusta, the gateway to the city. It’s late.The chef is about to leave the restaurant when we enter. However, there is still soup. A winter classic, Caldo Verde. In Portugal, few things in life you can be sure about. One of those, is that you will always find a good bowl of soup, even in the humblest and most obscure places. A waiter in a pristine white waistcoat, pours us a small glass of port and gently places it us beside our piping hot caldo verde. I raise my glass to Sabrina and our kind saviour. The port instantly warms our bones, the soup soothes our weary soul. I smile. I am back in Lisbon, the land of my dreams. I’m home.

Praça do Comércio

The next day, I remember opening the window and feeling a chill down my spine as I gazed up at a perfect, icy blue morning sky. I spot a bunch of pigeons huddled together for warmth on the beautiful street lamps across the road. There is a brief shaft of morning light spilling onto the beautiful patterned pavements. We grab our trainers and decide to go for a run. Running , first thing in the morning, for the last 2 years has been my new drug. I can’t think of a better way to start the day, to clear away the cobwebs and worries that each dawn often brings. We slowly jog down the narrow cobbled streets, slowly running towards the light. I sniff at the distant whiff of freshly grounded coffee that always follows you wherever you are in Lisbon. I feel an instant surge of electricity. The closer we come to the waterfront, the golden morning light grows brighter, fiercer, engulfing us, like a warm welcoming embrace. After months of eternal winter darkness in Berlin, it feels like a hug from my mother. I feel a teardrop or two crawl into my eye when I finally arrived in the beautiful broad expanse of Praça do Comércio. It is one of my favourite parts of the city. I love the bright yellow colour, the beautifully shaped arcades and symmetry of the buildings lining the square. I also love how the rectangular shape of the square opens onto the broad expanse of the deep blue Tagus. It is the closest thing to a perfect vista. You can see the sky and sea in perfect harmony while standing by King Jose on his horse, symbolically crushes the snakes on his path. We run by the river, drinking in the beautiful coastline and that gorgeous morning light bouncing off the water. We run that morning as far as our legs take us. It was one of those days I could have kept on running forever, to see what other, invisible worlds we would discover. On colder mornings since, especially in these tough times, I often revisit this morning in memory.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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I always have a particular route I like to walk, every time I’m back in Lisbon. It usually starts in the neighbourhood of São Bento, west of Bairro Alto. I stayed here a few winters ago in a simple but beautiful flat. As is typical with most Lisbon houses, there was no central heating. I would be fine during the day but in evenings and early mornings, I would be dependent on an electric heater that would blast warm air until you can’t breathe. I would prefer the more rustic method of a glass of red wine in the evenings instead to warm myself up. After a glass or two, early every evening before sunset, I would always go for my evening stroll. I would slowly edge up the hill, along the long snaking Rua do Sao Bento, passing the odd coffee shop, convenience store and tiny antique shops that slowly seem to disappear every time I return to Lisbon, replaced by some hip smoothie or craft beer store that you seem to find mushrooming in every city across Europe. The cobbled streets here are reassuringly still unloved with grass growing through them. I watch my step, dodging the dog poop.

It depends on the time of the day but you’ll always find the odd local, popping their head out of their tiny windows of their house, puffing on a cigarette and stringing up their laundry or just staring at every passerby or if they are in the mood, indulging in a bit of banter with their friends across the road.

I always pause in the fork of the road at the intersection of Rua Polais de Sao Bento and Rua do Poco dos Negros. It is a perfect spot to admire the iconic yellow Tram 28 rattling down the hill from Bairro Alto. On certain days, I love to stop for a quick bica at the fabulous Mill cafe but on most days I push on up the steep hill. This section of the street, Calcada do Combro, nudging Bairro Alto, is a killer and often has me out of breath by the time I reach the top. I’ll often pause at the Igreja de Santa Caterina to catch my breath. The plain facade is unassuming but inside, this church is a stunner. I love the stucco rococo ceiling and the monumental organ here. This church was one of the few buildings that survived the 1755 earthquake. Once I get to the top of Calcada do Combro, I love to get another glimpse of the tram thundering down the hill. Within every ritual, there are always mini rituals, each, satisfying in their own aspect and life reaffirming. My walk from here can change. Sometimes, I love edging to the top of the hill and onto Largo Calhariz. I love to pause here. If I’m hungry, I love snacking on the piadina, from La Bottega Piadina, an authentic slice of Emilia Romagna in the heart of Lisbon.

I’ll then stop, admire the bright yellow Bica funicular perched precariously on the top of the steep Rua da Bica de Duarte Belo. It always attracts a gaggle of people, from the tourists furiously snapping photos of loved ones, trying to freeze the moment for eternity to the drug dealers, casually slipping you a menu of every drug under the sun. It is a scene that never changes, no matter how much Lisbon gentrifies or grows older. I’ll continue sometimes to Baixa Chiado but in most times, I’ll never make it to the top of the hill. Instead, I shift right onto the sloping cobbled alleyway of Travessa da Condessa do Rio, plastered with snazzy graffiti.

That brings me onto the Rua de Santa Caterina. First thing I spot as I turn onto the street is the reassuring view of the towering palm tree that stands in the garden of the beautiful Oasis Backpackers Hostel. Oasis was one of the first hostels I stayed in Lisbon back in 2012 when I started my Luxury Hostels project. It is a beautiful building, a century old mansion , with that warm honey yellow facade and sludge green wrought iron balconies that would not look out of place in Paris or the French Riviera. I haven’t been back to the hostel since. It kinda faded and slipped in standards over the years but I’ve always wanted to go back, just for old times sake.

I like to finish my walk in Miradouro Santa Caterina which is right next the hostel. The view from here is probably my favourite view of the city. You have the shimmering waters of the Tagus river and the towering Ponte de Abril suspension bridge. I love spending sunsets here. The city kind of unfurls itself from this viewpoint like a finely embroidered bedspread, a beautiful melange of terracotta, yellow and pinks and that unforgettable Lisbon moody blue. It is a popular spot for sunsets with locals and tourists alike. Plus, you always meet a bunch of characters here, from poets to pimps. The other key feature I love here is that it has one of the classic Lisbon beautiful ‘quiosques’ where you can buy drinks or snacks at pretty affordable prices. At one point, an obsolete and forgotten feature of local street culture, these beautiful quiosques, combining a mix of oriental and art nouveau styles, have now restablished themselves as a staple part of local life.

The last time I was in Lisbon, the miradouro had just been rebuilt and opened to locals and tourists again. Few of the original green benches had been removed. I was a bit sad to see them gone as I had a lot of memories sitting there, watching the sunset. My favourite memory of the square was back from 2012 when I had the amazing fortune of bumping into the Austrian actor, Bruno Ganz who at the time was filming the ‘Night Train to Lisbon’ movie in the city. ( Few key scenes are filmed right on that square ) It was a quiet June afternoon. Hardly any tourists in sight. Keep in mind that Lisbon was still relatively undiscovered at this point and slowly emerging as a tourism hotspot. I had just ambled out of the Oasis hostel, a book in hand and the idea had been to enjoy the view from the square with a coffee. When I saw Bruno Ganz, sitting there, quietly enjoying the view, it was a kind of surreal moment for me. I am a huge Wim Wenders fan, his earlier stuff especially. Growing up, I must have seen his films on repeat a trillion times. One of my favourites was the ‘Wings of Desire’ , in which Bruno Ganz stars as a guardian angel who wishes to become human when he falls in love with one of the humans he looks after.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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I remember smiling at him and admitting how much I loved this movie of his. He probably had heard this a million times in his life but he was kind and thanked me. In fact, he was kind enough to talk me to for almost an hour on that bench. We talked about Wenders, the movie he was shooting at the time and even indulged in a spot of politics. Contents of our conversation, I shall keep private but it was indeed an experience, I will never forget. He sadly passed away the year before. My memory of meeting him will now forever remain intertwined with Lisbon and that spot, even if the bench is there no longer.

By the time we were wrapping our trip in Lisbon last year, the disease that shall not be named, had started spreading like wildfire across Europe. Little did we know what was ahead and how the world around us, our lives and that of loved ones, the way we travel and how places like Lisbon for example would hugely be impacted by this terrible disease. It is tough to predict the future but one thing I do know for sure, that when it is safe for us to travel again, I definitely will be returning to Lisbon.

While I am missing my annual January pilgrimage, I am happy to wait for Lisbon. All I have to do is close my ears and eyes and I am back there, walking the streets again. I can hear the passionate voices from the local tascas, the warm roasted smell of freshly brewed bicas and the vexed voices of silvery haired ladies rise, float into the seven hills above as they put their clothes out to dry on their rusty iron balconies. I hear those sounds and like magic, I can see Lisbon again. I am running towards the golden light and the familiar embrace of an old friend.

Part 1: I want to ride my bicycle

Like ants crawling upon each other, reaching for the infinite sky, the century-old vineyards outside of Bolzano seem to be crawling over each other in their haste to reach the sunlight. Our bus from the train station loops countless circles through the lofty mountains, spinning us slowly into a mysterious planetary orbit. The higher we ascend, the more majestic the view and the more emotional I get. Even the smallest, most beautiful things move me to tears in these emotional Covid times.

As with the beginning of every new travel adventure, I feel my brain clouded by the heady combination of excitement and nervous intrepidation of the road ahead – but this was going to be a slightly different adventure from the norm. I was on my way to the lofty mountain village of Collepietra not far from Bolzano and the Dolomites, where I was to be part of a sustainability camp with Bosch eBike Systems. The camp would explore about how we can make a positive contribution to sustainable tourism with e-bikes at the heart of it. The invitation stated that we would be shown the ropes by two of Europe’s leading e-biking athletes, Greta Weithaler and Jérôme Clementz.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Me googling how to ride a bike Photo credit: Mattias Fredriksson

My first reaction to the invitation was…mixed.

First of all, I didn’t consider myself good enough at biking. It was only 2 years ago I was learning to ride a bike in the garage of my ex-girlfriend’s house. I had tried and failed a few times, a few bones (and my precious ego) badly bruised along the way. The older you grow, the more fear seems to eat your soul. I am grateful that my ex did push me into trying to learn again. Once I got over my fear, I was cruising. My only issue was my nerves with riding on public roads. I also didn’t ride that much to be honest. Last time I was on a bike was 18 months ago on the island of Föhr which is blissfully car free. I’d bike all day if I lived on an island like Föhr.

Mountain biking champion, Jérôme Clementz showing me the ropes! Photo credit: Mattias Fredriksson

Part 2: I try to ride my bicycle

I’m a bundle of nerves. I can feel my heart rate rising as everyone slowly starts jumping on their bikes and slowly getting a feel of my e-bike. I have no clue where I am going but luckily my bike knows- it is armed with a clever piece of tech developed by Bosch called the Nyon– an all-in-one on-board computer which also includes an on-board navigation system. The user can for example download routes, track my progress and see my average speed, and most importantly, it offers 5 different riding modes. It can also download routes, track my progress and see my average speed.

As we wind our way from the hotel downhill to the village of Collepietra, I still feel my legs are jelly. Jérôme Clementz, the champion biker kindly decided to take me under his wing and looks me in the eye-‘I will lead you and ride with you so please, don’t worry. I’m with you,’ he reassures me in his warm French accent. It is not everyday you get to ride with a world champion, so I said screw it and started pedalling and slowly riding downhill with him. After safely navigating the traffic lights and passing a big truck, we turn onto the main loop towards the village and started gliding down at a nice speed, comfortably in the ‘eco’ mode of the bike. Riding downhill feels great. My nerves return when I see a big track pulling up beside me but I move to the side and let it pass. Relax, I start moving forward again, swimming in the great expanse of the beautiful South Tirolean landscape around me. It feels like a balm on my eye and soul. The wind is in my wings, I’m riding a wave of happiness. This feels good but I’m keen to practise more, overcome my nerves.

eBiking in the forests of Collepietra village near the Hotel Photo credit: Mattias Fredriksson

Following day, I go for a practise run in the mountains with Sabrina. We’re riding this time through a dreamy piece of farmland, sitting at the foot of a steep hill that snakes into the sky, framed by long coniferous trees. There are no cars around. I hop on the bike and try to go uphill. I start pedalling and as we start making the steep ascent, I shift my gears with a quick flick. As the going gets tough on the steep slope, Sabrina hollers at me to try the turbo mode. The moment I switch, I zip up the hill as if I had picked up some magic golden tokens to boost my speed. Once you feel that thrill of speed, you don’t want to stop. I kept pedalling up and up the hill and then we passed another farmhouse and some very angry dogs started barking at me from behind the gates. The adrenaline kicks in and I start pedalling more furiously. A couple of sharp twists and turns and soon we’re zipping into the forest. We stop finally and my eyes are shining. The bike feels in harmony with my mind and begins to feel like an extension of my body.

Photo credit: Mattias Fredriksson

The older we grow the more fear eats our soul. You get set in your ways. Trying something new can be a huge challenge. I can see parallels with the journey into sustainability. The older we get, the more difficult it can be to change our ways. Once you get hooked onto cheap flights, swapping it for longer and often more expensive train journeys for example can be really tough. Same way, buying an €2000 e-bike might seem something not within the reach of most people, especially for someone who enjoys being frugal. Which brings me onto the next question- can a budget traveller be truly sustainable?

To help answer this question, I probably need to take a few steps back. Bear with me.

Patagonia, December 2016

Part 3: Budget Travel = Sustainable?

I’d like to explain to you a little about my philosophy of why I love and write about budget travel. For me, my blog has never been about finding the cheapest hostels or hotel to sleep in. When I was 25 and broke when I started my blog, yes, the blog was initially about scoring deals on the cheapest hotel or hostel in town. However, with age, I found my travel style to evolve into more about curating travel experiences that were still budget friendly but also offered soul, purpose and a sense of community. Budget Travel for me at the age of 40 has now evolved into what I call travelling smart, saving money on say flights or spending a few euros more at good quality hostels so that you can spend money on the stuff that is important to you – this could be going for a really nice 3 course meal at a local restaurant with a nice bottle of local wine or it could be simply buying Christmas gifts for your family from local craftsmen and making a real difference with your purchasing power. My travel philosophy extends to my everyday living. We rarely go shopping. We actually have a lot of clothes we want to give away. Sabrina has a clothes swap planned with a friend soon. We cook at home and mainly Indian vegetarian food. We don’t miss meat. This means we have always had money to invest in things that are important to us …like buying a new lens for Sabrina’s camera. The most expensive thing I ever bought in my life (other than my Macbook Pro Laptop) is my Leica 25mm f1.4 lens for my Panasonic Lumix Camera. At the time it was £500 and my hands were shaking when I handed over my credit card. That lens has lasted me 9 years now and still takes beautiful photographs.

So, in many ways, a life of travelling on a budget and being a minimalist has naturally taught me to think sustainably.

Part 4: Kurt’s journey to sustainability

‘It’s a journey. We are not perfect. What we’ve achieved here is through small steps.’

Kurt Resch, Hotel Steineggerhof

To help me gain a better understanding of what sustainability entails and implies, as part of our sustainability workshop, we had the pleasure of listening to a fascinating talk from Kurt Resch, owner and our host in Collepietra. Alongside his daughter, Lisa, Kurt explained how via their Bio- und Bikehotel Steineggerhof, they had undertaken their journey into sustainability. I like how he emphasised the word ‘journey’ a few times when talking about sustainability and that’s when a few lightbulbs started to flash in my brain.

The hotel runs climate-neutrally and supports projects for reforestation and clean drinking water as CO2 compensation. Vegetables and herbs come from their beautiful garden onsite. The cooking here features mainly vegetarian and vegan dishes. This is again something that didn’t happen overnight. Kurt and Lisa’s interest in vegetarian/vegan cuisine started 5 years ago when Lisa’s brother became vegetarian and then vegan. The whole family soon decided to become vegetarian. The menu of the hotel started to change to reflect their passion for vegetarian, vegan cooking. I asked Kurt in an area of Italy that is especially famous for its passion for meat, wasn’t this change a challenge for him and his customers?

‘It was a huge challenge but I think in this day and age, it is important to stand up for our ideals and what we believe in. We’ve had repeat customers for many years. The majority have enjoyed our journey into sustainability and understood their passion for vegetarian/vegan living. Some have disagreed strongly but they have been a minority. In the end, being one of the few hotels in South Tyrol to cater exclusively to vegan and vegetarian people has been of huge advantage to us.’

The improvements over the years have been gradual. Covid-19 was a turbo accelerator for further change. They were the first hotel in the region to be CO2 positive. All the food on the menu is mostly sourced from the hotel garden. Kurt though is keen not to be seen as sitting on his laurels. He’s always keen to try new things and implement new ideas in his hotel to improve their product. 

One of the signature items on the breakfast menu is their delicious chocolate spread, made with no dairy obviously. While the chocolate spread is very popular with customers, Kurt is still reworking his 2 year old recipe. It’s this desire and drive to keep working, improving that makes Kurt and his hotel’s journey into sustainability unique.

Does “going sustainable” in general have to be expensive?

It should come as no surprise, Kurt’s journey into sustainability has also massively helped him cut costs. By making smart choices like growing and sourcing everything from his garden, by reducing food waste, by using energy efficient lightbulbs, Kurt’s not only reduced his environmental impact, he’s also keeping costs down which I imagine has helped him keep his hotel going through the current Covid crisis. The more I listened to him, I consciously started realising that his journey to sustainability was not just because of his dietary needs, it made perfect sense given the fragile environment he lived in and also economically has helped him improve his business. 

‘People are scared of labels’

Kurt Resch, Steineggerhof

Which brings me onto my biggest beef with the label sustainability.

It always seemed like a cliche, a label that didn’t feel very inclusive. In my head it was a label synonymous with luxury ecolodges, opportunistic green washing that always comes with an expensive price tag. I’ve never been a fan of labels. My boxing ourself into some moralistic definition, we seem to scare rather inspire people.  In the end, it’s not rocket science. Sustainability is just using common sense. Do great stuff, help your local community and save money so that you can spend money on even more good stuff- how can we define that better? Answers on a postcard.

Ready to fly! Photo credit: Mattias Fredriksson

Part 5:  Why Biking Is A Really Big Deal (In Every Sense)

I’m definitely a convert to e-biking. As we look to build a carbon free world and with an increased interest in active holidays I definitely see e-mobility vehicles like eBikes, equipped with Bosch eBike Systems Drive Units  becoming more popular, more mainstream in the future. With starting price of around €2000, it is undeniable that e-bikes remain a discretionary purchase. It depends on everyone’s priorities and needs – but even for a BudgetTraveller, if could be a worthwhile investment, just like my old trusty Leica lens. We just have to do the math. How much money, how many journeys will a bike save you in its lifetime….while getting you fitter, which helps extend your life?

Let’s do a cost analysis of how much owning a bike saves the average person in transport fees every year. In the UK for example, I found this study that estimated an average saving of £3000 a year. If we assume the lifespan of an average bike to be 5 years, that’s a saving of £15000 on public & private transport which is massive.

Conclusion

I might need to save up a bit more and also take a break from my nomadic life, but if I did settle down, I definitely would consider buying an eBike. I think the key takeaway from my experience of the camp was that even as a BudgetTraveller, I can be sustainable. You probably are on that path, too. I was already consciously taking small steps in my travels and everyday life. (This post on how to travel sustainably by my friends, Dan and Audrey from Uncornered Market, was a great reference point for me personally)

Once we move away from the label, the realisation of the need to move away from this constant pressure of trying to tick a list of do’s and don’ts, the journey into sustainability can be an adventure in itself. If we are going to create real change, we need to get away from the culture of guilt shaming people into making a change of a lifestyle. We need to empower people, remind them they have the ability to make a big impact through the smallest of changes.

So the journey begins… Photo credit: Mattias Fredriksson

As Kurt mentioned, just as with any journey in life, it is always about first of all recognising as an individual you have the power to change things for the better – once you’ve realised that you have the ability to make a difference, you can start to make those small changes gradually. It is also recognising that the journey will not be perfect. We will make mistakes. We will have to face our demons. But as long as we are conscious of our ability to change our ways and have an impact, we slowly will start making more better, positive decisions. Even if we cannot touch the infinite blue sky, just like the ants, we can always reach for it. Once we frame sustainability as a journey rather than just a goal in itself, just like trying to ride an eBike or learning how to become vegetarian, life can get a whole lot more exciting and the possibilities, infinite.

Disclaimer: I was invited by Bosch eBike Systems and Hotel Steinneggerhof to be part of their sustainability workshop and also experience how ebiking will contribute to the future of sustainable travel. For more details about the Bosch Sustainabiilty Workshop , checkout the website.

Please note that all the views expressed here are entirely my own. Huge thanks to Steffi and the team Bosch eBike systems for the opportunity to be part of this project and also thanks to Marta, Norman and the team at Desire Lines Agentur for this fab content collaboration.

August 2020. We’ve come almost full circle since last summer. The year has been the most extraordinary and craziest year in life. In uncertain times like this, it is important to pause. Reflect. Hold onto the memories of happier times and people. The friends we made along the way during our travels. The memorable meals and of course the wonderful company, with whom, we’ve shared those meals.The long serendipitous days of travel when you carve a line through an unknown city and create your own magical, dream universe full of people, places…memories…when you feel like you’ve entered into a parallel universe of some sort. When the holiday is over, even though we leave these magical worlds behind and retreat back to our everyday life, they never leave us. In a way, they enter into our DNA and become part of us forever.

Park Fiction, Hamburg

As we pause, revive our weary souls in August, just like Xmas, I’m grateful for this period when life temporarily hits the pause button. One of the few shining lights of the pandemic has been the gift of time, opportunity to think and reflect. In times of strife, I’ve found my travel memories to be a place of healing and solace. I’ve dug deep in my box of memories. Amongst many things, I wondered why does the loss or absence of travel hurt us so much. Why does travel mean so much to us? Sometimes the act of travel is so much more than just travelling. Correct me, but I feel it somehow represents an ideal and a sense of freedom that is often missing in our lives. What is it about these parallel universes we inhabit for a few days, that mean so much to us?

Leipzig

To find out the answers, as travel restrictions have slowly been lifted over the summer,  I’ve been retracing my steps recently to some of my favourite parallel universes recently. Even though flights to Athens and Lisbon are cheap as hell and I see repeated stories on how safe air travel is, I’m not feeling really upto the demands of air travel.

Time to explore my backyard. Recently, as some of you know, I was in Leipzig which was incredible fun and an emotional weekend too. Prague, was an emotional trip and lot of fun. The next old favourite that we were dying to revisit was Hamburg, a city where both Sabrina and I have strong emotional connections. Sabrina lived in Hamburg for a while and went to university there, so there’s always a strong pull to return to her ‘heimat’. Over the years we’ve collected a lot of amazing memories. Going back here, feels like slipping into a pair of well worn comfortable slippers. I know the city and I feel the city knows me.

I can’t quite sum what is it about Hamburg that makes it special and keeps me coming back. With some cities, just like love, it is an instant feeling and connection you feel the moment you walk its streets.

I can tell you that Hamburg wasn’t love at first sight. 2012 summer. I walked out of the train station, the smell of piss and chaos instantly sapping the life out of me. These were the days of no Google Maps remember. I spent an eternity on a very humid day in June trying to find my hostel, A&O Hostels which was tucked behind the Hauptbahnhof in St Georg. Back in 2012, St Georg was a few glorious light years away from gentrification, very rough around the edges and probably not the best introduction to Hamburg. Especially for someone like me, who at 33 was a belated entrant to the world of backpacking and travelling solo. There are far better hostels in Hamburg than A&O. The hostel was filled with pimply faced teenagers ranting at the poor wifi and casual labourers, mainly from Eastern Europe, who had landed in the city in search of any kind of work. I can still remember their sad faces, chain smoking furiously at the entrance and jabbing their shrill voices into their mobile and fingers into the sky, protesting with an imaginary god, the injustices of life. Travelling solo can be such an intimidating experience at first,  especially in a new city. I remember sheepishly asking for the city map at the hostel reception and venturing out at night on the first evening, walking the streets of the city, wide eyed and slightly feeling sad for myself, an unhappy voyeur, looking on at the scenes of life unveiling themselves before me. The sense of isolation and unhappiness was the starkest when I hit the Reeperbahn. A riot of neon lights, aggressive pimps and heavily drugged beggars, I quickly left. After the almost sterile, disneylandesque nature of Amsterdam’s Red Light District, Hamburg’s Reeperbahn felt every inch what a red light district should be – grotty, seedy, loud and a wonderful assortment of characters that could only be from the Reeperbahn.

Young Kash, trying to play the drums at the former Beatles Museum

My trip did improve over the weekend I was there. My redemption lied in the comfort of the now sadly closed Beatles museum on the Reeperbahn. The Beatles have been a huge part of my life. Alongside my sister, I danced, sang along to all their songs from a young age. My favourite songs were their more earlier, happier poppier stuff like ‘Love me Do’ and ‘Hard Day’s Night.’ As I grew older, I appreciated their later darker stuff on the White Album.

My love of Hamburg, much like my love of the Beatles, I’ve found kind of grows with age. The grotty, seedy Reeperbahn which I hated so much on first glance, I grew to love, the more I explored its layers and its incredible bar scene. There’s a bunch of amazing bars here, all with their own history and story. There’s Rosi’s for example, named after Rosi McGinnity who opened the bar in 1969. She flirted with the Beatles here, married the British musician Tony Sheridan who played in many clubs on the strip and paved the way for the Beatles arrival.  Then there’s cult places like Zum Silbersack where you can get shots of local Mexikaner and sway to 1950’s German schlager till dawn. The bar is not the most glamorous place on planet earth with their gruff service, smoke filled rooms and sticky floors but this is the place where you will encounter true local Hamburg legends and have as we say in Scotland proper banter. When day breaks, everyone heads for breakfast brunch at Cafe May – one of the best places to start your day in Hamburg.

Brucke 10, Hamburg

I travel through my stomach but that wasn’t always the case here. On my first trips, when money was tight and I wasn’t very well aware of the city, I would end up eating a kebab or one of those ‘wok to go’ fast fried noodle joints. When you are young, travelling solo, you want your food fast and cheap. However, as you grow older and become more self assured in your own company, you start developing a better, finer taste of food and also where you might find the true locals eating, instead of the more touristy joints. There was one snack I discovered on my first trip in Hamburg that for me sums up the city in one bite – the humble but ever so tasty fischbrötchen. I would usually grab my fischbrötchen at the stands right after exiting Landungsbrucken – fish fillet sandwich with homemade tartar sauce (pretty tasty stuff but after a few trips to the city I realised I was missing out on the really good stuff further up the ‘brücke’ pier 10 to be precise where you’ll find Brücke 10). Here with a nice bread roll, you’ll get a choice of fish fillet, matjes or crab meat. Sabrina loves it with crab meat, I love it with matjes and a few crunchy onions thrown in for flavour. Wash it down with an ice cold Astra beer and you have the perfect Hamburg meal. ( PS Here’s a recent list of some good places to eat in Hamburg )

We talked about the importance of good drinks and food when travelling. Plus I told you how much I hated A&O hostels on my first trip. In fact, I’ve never had a great experience staying at their hostels. Just like love, there are some hostels or hotels where you feel an instant connection. Superbude in Hamburg is one of those places where you feel at ease, at home. ( If you haven’t visited Superbude, here’s an earlier review of why I consider it, one of Germany’s best hostels ) Even though the staff were wearing masks, they greeted me with their eyes shining and an energetic ‘Moin’. Somethings in life, you can’t fake. It was an emotional experience to be back in a hostel again after Covid. The hostel industry has been one of the worst sectors in tourism affected really badly by Covid. I know a few travellers feel that hostels aren’t safe places to be and I wanted to reassure everyone that hostels like Superbude are doing everything to make guests feel at home and safe. Let me tell you what the Superbude are doing to help guests feel safe.

The common areas are being cleaned regularly. Every floor has a disinfection station with polite reminders for guests to wash their hands at all times. QR codes are on tables and chairs in the common area, asking guests to check in so that the staff know who was there and when.

Breakfast is to go and a very generous selection of delicious homemade muesli jars, freshly baked franzbrötchens ( True Hamburg classic sweet pastry baked with butter and cinnamon, similar to a cinnamon roll ) , delicious sandwiches, yoghurt and fruit. To minimise contact at the moment there are no social activities in the hostel. The flip side is that the hostels seem rather quiet places to be in the evenings. This was very strange for me to experience but that’s the reality that hostels and everyone in tourism is facing. I know, hope that the virus won’t be around forever. However, till things get back to normal, I hope we continue to support tourism businesses that give a real damn about you having a good holiday like Superbude. So, next trip to Hamburg, stay with them. ( Here’s a list of current special offers at Superbude ) Make a difference with your hard earned money. Amen.

We’ve established some of the ingredients of a perfect holiday in Hamburg-where to have a beer, eat and where to stay. Last but not least, where are the places I love to visit that make Hamburg perfect for me? Here’s a list from earlier but to give you an idea, let me tell you about my morning walk through the city, where I revisit some favourite spots and maybe discover a few new places.

One of the best things about staying in the Superbude is its location in the Schanze/ St Pauli area where there’s this wonderful vibe, air of electricity, especially in the summer when the locals all flock to the streets and the whole area has this vibe of a big huge summer festival. I turn right from the hostel and walk up Juliustrasse towards the colourful chaotic street of Schluterblatt. Schulterblatt is the nerve centre of Schanze where all the artists, expats, immigrants, hipsters, punks and anarchists of Hamburg congregate for drinks in the summer. The spirit of the area and Hamburg in many ways is symbolised by the Rota Flora theatre, which has been squatted in continuously since November 1989. Covered in grafitti, political slogans, the protest against the rampant gentrification of the area has now lasted 30 years and still continues with over 150 squatters occupying the building. This message of respect and tolerance for people with different values, ideals I think is what makes Hamburg unique and a very special city.

Another part of Schanzeviertel I return to on almost every visit is the Rosenhofstrasse where you’ll find a diverse range of painted/printed paper on the walls, so called pasteups with works of art from some of the world’s most famous street artists like El Bocho’s Lucy. I talked about the joy of inhabiting parallel universes – the street art scene in Hamburg is one of the mini universes, once you enter its orbit, you see the city in a different way.

While in the area, on this trip, looking at my Google Maps, I spotted a name of a store I long wanted to visit. Place is called Human Empire. My connection with them happened almost 2 years ago when I published my book, ‘The Grand Hostels: Luxury Hostels of the World.’ They were proudly displaying my book in their beautiful shop and had tagged me on Instagram. I had dropped them a line to thank them and made a promise to visit them, the next time I was in Hamburg. Somehow, I couldn’t make it to see them on recent trips but here I was on a sunny day in July, finally meeting them.

It is a beautiful store. Originally a men’s outfitters store dating back to the 60’s, with its wooden built-in wardrobes and long counter with large mirror walls, there’s a wonderful nostalgic retro quality about the place. Originally an illustration and design studio, Human Empire founders Jan and Wiebke, created a physical extension to their labour of love by creating a concept store filled with all their favourite things, ranging from paper goods such as posters, notebooks, books, magazines and wrapping paper to a fine selection of home accessories and clothing from European designers. Wiebke was in-store when I dropped and was as friendly and wonderful in person as online. We had a great chat about all things Hamburg and classic design posters from Scandinavia, one of the store’s many specialities. The conversation turned towards our mutual love of travel and she started telling me about this really cool hidden artists enclave in Leipzig. I left an hour but could have spent more time chatting to Wiebke. I leave, with a smile, enriched by the generosity of her spirit and her warmth.

Jessi and Kathrin

Kash and Florian!

AuthenTikka- is this the best Indian restaurant in Germany?

The rest of the weekend in Hamburg remains a happy blur. It involved meeting some dear old friends who have been a big reason why we fell in love with Hamburg- Kathrin, Jessica and Florian. Lots of reminiscing and good food. There are few birthdays to celebrate. There’s lots of Astra. Lots of prosecco. Lots of hugging and emotional conversations. Long walks home at 5am. There is a hangover or two. There’s still more good food- an epic meal at a brand new Indian restaurant called Authentikka. We’re talking real indian food here, probably the best I’ve had in Germany.

I leave Hamburg with a heavy heart but bag full of new memories, faces of places, friends, old and new, I hope to meet again soon. The best trips in life, like love are like that. Where you feel at the end wanting more and more. The journey ends but in your mind you want to continue to draw that imaginary line through a city, this imaginary land of make believe in which you and a few friends exist. See where this new line takes you. Even as our heart seeks the unknown, the distant shores of cities far out reach, there is joy in returning to the familiar places we know we love, rediscover the imaginary worlds we carve out, those parallel universes, invisible to our eyes, waiting to welcome us again.

Disclaimer: I was invited to Hamburg as a guest of Hamburg Marketing and Superbude but the views, emotions expressed here are entirely my own. 

This was our first trip anywhere since the 10th March when we went to Amsterdam for my birthday/work trip. After the stress and strain of the last few months, packing the bag feels like a release.

I dust off the packing cube. It has been sulking in the bitter depths of my backpack since early March. I’m little unsure of what to pack. I mentally go through my checklist. Sometimes, its these small rituals of travel that you miss the most about travel. We pack our existence into our trusted Arcido carry on backpacks and head to sleep. It is a restless night and we don’t sleep well. We are leaving on a very early train ( cheapest train tickets with Deustche Bahn are always at the crack of dawn or midnight ) from Berlin’s main train station.

6am.

The early light of dawn leaps through our bedroom and tickles our feet. I wake up before the alarm and feel a familiar surge of adrenaline. I suddenly feel like I’m 5 again and its Christmas Day. After enjoying a strong cup of coffee and a quick hot shower we slowly shuffle out of the door of the apartment. The tram to Berlin’s main train station is half empty. Everyone has their face masks on. I see a lot of tired eyes looking listlessly out of the windows at the unspoilt blue morning sky. Some cast an envious eye at us with our backpacks. I know you miss the drug of travelling, of escape. Hopefully, soon we can all travel soon.

There’s a deep knot in the pit of my stomach as I enter the train carriage. The act of travel nowadays carries the heavy weight of guilt. My friend pointed out that travel and the economy seems insignificant when people are dying. His words weighed heavily on my mind when I got on that train.A part of me rightly feels guilty that I shouldn’t be travelling with the virus still in circulation. The act of travel seems pointless when people are dying everyday. Millions of people are still under lockdown. Like my parents and sister’s family in Kolkata, India. They and millions more can only dream of the privilege of travelling again.

It is a tough one but as you know, travel for me is simply more than an escape. It is my job. It is my life. Travel industry in Germany contributes 43.2 billion euros to the Germany economy and supports 2 millions jobs. 100 million jobs are estimated to be at risk globally because of the current Covid crisis. The past few months have been tough. I’ve seen people in the industry lose their jobs. We’ve had some savings to live off over the past few months but we’re close to scraping the bottom of the barrel. There’s been little or no support from my government. The traffic to the blog has decreased by 80% plus I’ve lost a lot of my clients. I’ve been pretty demotivated and as you may have noticed, hardly blogged here for the last few months.

I know I’ll pull through. I hope we all do. I will continue to do what I do best -tell you the stories about places I’ve visited, the hostels, the tour guides, the street food stall owners -the everyday people who make your travel experience better. Travelling is more than just an act of escape. Done the right way, it can be a force of good. It can put money into the local economy and help sustain jobs. . So when we travel again, lets show even more care for the world and the people we meet, lets focus on spending and supporting the right kind of businesses. Plus lets keep social distancing until its safe , wear a mask please in public and clean our hands. Take all the precautions. Be responsible. Travel is and has always been a privilege. If we all do it the right way, we all win.

We’re heading to the city of heroes, Leipzig. A city where we have some great memories. ( Click here for the story of our last trip to Leipzig )

The national rail operator Deutsche Bahn indicated a low to average occupancy on the app. However in reality, the train was a lot busier than we expected and for the majority of the journey, we were sharing a table with another passenger. Everyone had masks on so that was grand but it still didn’t feel right.If I was Deutsche Bahn, I would have ensured that passenger seating is spaced out to ensure proper social distancing.Towards the end, we managed to bag our own table and then heaved a bit of a sigh.

We arrive in Leipzig’s grand central station. One of my favourite things about travelling to Leipzig is arriving in its grand train station-the epic scale of the terminus really is awe astounding. I only recently learnt that it is the biggest passenger railway terminus in Europe. We trundle out of the station and walk towards the city centre from where we would catch the tram to Sudvorstadt. Every time I come to Leipzig, I always take the same route. I love wondering through the extensive network of passages and walkways that are dotted throughout the downtown part of the city. Walking through these ornate passages feels like time travelling back to the era when Leipzig enjoyed the status of being one of Europe’s leading trade cities. I pass by the elegant Cafe Riquet with its two copper Elephant heads flanking the stunning art nouveau facade. We end up in the grand Markt square flanked by the beautiful Old Town Hall. There’s a huge outdoor farmers market packed with local traders. The air is heavy with the scent of smoked fish, cheese and fresh bread. There’s a lot of people packed in the square with some degree of social distancing being observed. It is worth mentioning now that Leipzig and the greater Saxony area dealt really well with the coronavirus crisis and on the day we arrived, Leipzig had reported no new cases for the past 5 days.

We hop on the tram to Sudvorstadt. We were lucky to stay at a friends apartment for the weekend. She was out of town so we had the place to ourselves. I love Sudvorstadt. It’s a happy hippy concentration of nice bars, cafes and some really nice restaurants. Plus there is the wonderful Feinkost flea market and also the beautiful Clara Zetkin Park nearby. It is late in the afternoon and we’re hungry so we first head to a local Vietnamese restaurant. This was probably not our best meal of the trip but by no means was it bad. I think once you’ve tasted proper Vietnamese food in Vietnam, everything after that feels like a major disappointment. Still, it was ok and decent prices. It was a small hole in the wall kind of diner with a handful of social distanced tables outside and we were lucky to bag one of the remaining tables. After devouring our meal we head to an old favourite, the magnificently named Killywilly Irish pub. We sup on a pint of the not so local Lowenbrau beer. It was a pretty decent beer and I tell you what, after a train journey and on a muggy humid day, ice cold beer tastes like heaven. Killywilly is perfect for people watching and that pint of beer, was one of the best I had tasted for a long time. There is no greater comfort that being a stranger to town and watching the world go by.

Keen to preserve our modest budget, before heading back to the apartment we head to the nearby Aldi supermarket to buy breakfast essentials and some wine for the evening. God, I love Aldi. Incredibly good value. I wish we had one near our house in Berlin.

After chilling for a few hours in the apartment we headed out to see what Leipzig had to offer on a Friday evening. Our options were limited. Because of Covid, as with Berlin and the rest of Germany, all clubs were closed. Nightlife was restricted to mainly bars and restaurants. Bars, which only opened last week are allowed to open from 6 till 11.30pm. Plus, it is table only service in  the bars-no standing allowed. We went back to Killywilly but it was packed with no tables available. We then headed to three other nearby bars and were turned away from all of them-no tables available. This was a sobering reminder of the new reality of going out. On the other hand, it was great to see all the bars taking all the precautions and making their customers feel safe. We were close to giving up but tried one final bar- Horns Erben and we got lucky. A popular location for live music, on the night, the bar was only open. Nice spaced out tables, place dimly lit , soft crackle of something jazzy in the background and the nice hum of human conversation-it was as close to the real thing of having a drink in a bar and we loved it. Sabrina had a delicious whisky sour while I went for a Vodka Mate drink which was OK. Next time, I would be better sticking to something more traditional cocktail wise. We went home happy.

The next day was a cloudy one with occasional breaks of sunshine. The aim was to walk and see as much of the city on foot. We first headed to the nearby Clara Zetkin Park which we had missed out on during our visit in 2018. I didn’t know much about the history of the park but it was beautiful to wonder through. There’s towering oak trees arching over wide marked out paths lined with neatly arranged colourful flowers and the odd pond -it looks very idyllic and blissful.

In the heart of the park there’s the Glashaus im Clarapark restaurant and bar. It’s just hit 12 and there’s a few people having a beer or enjoying some coffee and kuchen. We decided to stop for a cheeky beer. With plenty of outdoor tables, social distancing wasn’t an issue. The weather was perfect too. I think while going to the toilet I must have counted 4 hand sanitising stations so top marks to the restaurant.

With a spark in our step we then headed further, soon crossing the iconic Sachsenbrucke. There’s a few people gathered around on the bridge with takeaway coffees. Below us on the river , there’s a few people sauntering up river on their kayaks. A part of us wanted to just sit there all day and watch the comings and going of people. We soon nudge our way out of the park in the direction of the hip neighbourhood of Plagwitz, another favourite part of the city for us.

We come across another stunning bridge Könneritzbrucke that marks the entrance to the neighbourhood of Plagwitz. We pause for awhile to admire some of the beautiful 19th century industrial architecture lining the canal here. As our eyes swim in the canal, suddenly a man in a Venetian gondola comes into view with a few people in tow. It is a surreal sight that I did not expect in Leipzig-later I discovered that the nearby Ristorante da Vito offers its customers a ride on their gondola to admire some of the fine industrial architecture lining the canal.

Halloumi and Falafel mixed teller at Salon Casablanca- so good!

In Plagwitz we head for lunch at an old favourite, Salon Casablanca. The food here is fabulous, well priced and service is fab. Despite being a Saturday, Karl Heine Strasse did look pretty quiet. I wasn’t sure because it was the afternoon or maybe there was a distinct lack of tourists. The bars were closed because of the restricted hours so that could have been a factor. The cafes were busy though.

We wanted to visit another old favourite, the nearby Spinnerei but due to the coronavirus, the complex remains off limits for visitors which is a shame. The Kunstkraftwerk, another favourite museum was open but we were not to keen on the Vincent Van Gogh experience so we headed back up Lutzner Strasse to another old favourite Tapetenwerk. As we had expected, the Tapetenwerk was also closed and off limits like the Spinnerei. Last time we were visiting, they were hosting their biannual Tapetenwerkfest when all the galleries open their doors to visitors all night. It was such an incredible atmosphere with all the people, music and food. Our heart sank a little at the sight of the empty yard and the closed ateliers.

Fabio and Andre

As we left the silence courtyard and turned back on the main road, in the distance I spotted a small bar with a’ Delta Coffee’ sign visible. Now, if any of you have been to Portugal, you will be familiar with Delta Coffee. I really love their coffee so I thought we could swing by for a cup. We discovered the bar was actually a Portuguese bar and run by two guys from Madeira! Now, for those of you not aware or new to the blog, you will probably not know that I once lived in Madeira. 4 years I think. Incredibly beautiful island , wonderful people and yes, the island has some wonderful food and drink to savour. Besides stocking a range of popular Portuguese beers like Sagres and Super Bock they also had the native Madeiran beer, Coral. So I had treat myself and Sabrina to a bunch of corals. While sipping on the Coral I then had to ask Andre and Fabio, the owner if they could make us a very traditional and special Madeiran drink, poncha and they said yes! A poncha is the most typical of Madeiran drinks and is a mix of Aguardente de cana which is distilled from the sugar cane that grows on the island, lemon peel and sugar or honey. You can have poncha with orange or passion fruit but the guys made us the real thing. Boy, oh boy, this stuff blows your socks off. If you are ever in Leipzig and curious to learn more about Madeira and its cuisine, please go to their bar.

Our head was in the clouds after those drinks. We went home to rest for awhile, feeling quite drained from the long walk. Maybe a sensory overload we were not used to after weeks, months of being cooped up indoors? It was a warm wonderful evening and I was keen for Sabrina to checkout Conne Island, a bastion of Leipzig subculture that and a local hub of everything alternative with an iconic skatepark. It also is a popular venue for musicians from all walks of life. I had visited Conne Island briefly back in 2015 when we came to film a video about streetart culture in Germany and really fell in love with the vibe of this place.

We slowly walked our way south towards Connewitz from Sudvorstadt. It’s close to 9 but the sky is still partially bright and there’s a soft warm breeze. I can hear random pockets of laughter bursting through the air, carrying on their crests the occasional hum of music blaring from a radio and also the heavy waft of beer mixed with smoke. It feels emotional. Like meeting an old friend.

In Connewitz, we stumble upon an impromptu concert outside Könich Heinz bar, a popular local divey bar hangout that attracts a colourful mix of characters. It’s probably the first concert of any kind I’ve heard for months and we immediately stop to listen to the music. The band was called Bar Philosophen and their music was jazzy and uplifting. Everyone was snapping their fingers and singing along with the charismatic lead singer. It was an emotional moment. Music. People. A warm beautiful evening. A cold beer in hand. What more could you ask? We catch the last 2 songs of their outdoor gig and then move onto Conne Island. We arrived at the skatepark shrouded under a cloak of darkness except for a bunch of people gathered around dim candle lit tables drinking some wine. There is a bar onsite but it was closing as we arrived. One of the ladies sitting on the tables intervened and brought us two beers and invited us to linger which was nice. Its tough to make out the place at night but still I was happy we came and Sabrina had the chance to see the place. Afterwards, we head home with mixed feelings. These are the things we miss. The endless freedom of the night, of serendipitous conversations … the feeling of letting go and for a brief few moments, losing ourselves.

The following day is a miserably cloudy morning. Perfect Sunday to laze in bed and almost do nothing. However there was the small matter of the Black Lives Matter solidarity march at 1pm near the main train station. We had sadly missed the epic demonstration in Berlin the day before but were excited to be joining the Leipzig demo and show our solidarity with our black friends in Germany and around the world. The last demo I went to was 18 years ago was when I went marching to protest against racism with a bunch of my university students in Glasgow. 18 years on, countless protests later, at the ripe old age of 41, here I was again, along with Sabrina, marching against to protest against the injustice of the events of the past weeks and also the centuries of previous injustice against black people. Given the current threat of Covid, I was nervous at the prospect of being in close proximity to thousands of people. But, we both decided it was important to show up and stand for what we believe in. We live in such crazy times. I can sense a general dissillusionment with politics and the general lack of moral leadership in the world.  In times like this when we feel hurt, directionless and feel like we are losing our purpose, it is important to remember that we can make a change, if we stand together. In our case it was to standing shoulder to shoulder with thousands of strangers and say that the system has to change, that black lives matter and they cannot continue to live in the dark shadow of hatred, ignorance and fear. We cannot to live in ignorance and turn a blind eye. We have to make a change, however difficult the road lies ahead. I have more to unwrap and talk about this topic but this probably is a blog post for another day.

There was a wonderful irony that we were marching in Leipzig.

Leipzig is after all , the city of heroes, where back in 1989, the locals were the first in East Germany to protest against the oppression of the GDR regime. Dubbed the ‘Peaceful Revolution’ , the locals set in chain a series of events that eventually led to the reunification of Germany.

We leave Leipzig the next day, our hearts filled with hope and some optimism for what the future holds for us.

The journey begins again.

It is not a road I know but I will walk it. I know this road ahead will be difficult , filled with risks and riddled with difficult compromises. Then again, I never signed up for an easy life. Did you?

If you’re planning a trip to Leipzig, checkout our earlier guide to the best things to do in Leipzig.

Winston Churchill 

Until recently, I rarely appreciated how much of an impact, architecture had on my mental wellbeing. My indifference could be partially explained by my childhood, growing up in a bustling metropolis like Kolkata. As a kid, I paid scant attention to the cognitive effects that the surrounding concrete jungle had on me. Buildings were something inanimate, whose mere function was to provide me with a place to sleep and provide shelter, security from the elements. I grew desensitised to their form, shape or function. It is only when I moved to Scotland, for my university education that I sensed a shift, an invisible curtain lifted. Suddenly, there was space and light and room for my mind to breathe in. Nothing prepares you for the beautiful desolation of Scotland’s natural landscapes. Living in Scotland, I appreciated the dynamic and constantly evolving relationship between man and nature and how the architecture is a fantastic interface to appreciate man’s relationship to its environment.

Great architecture not only gives us a sense of place but also balance. It brings art, creativity, and infuses beauty into our daily lives in ways we don’t expect it. The older I grow, the more wider the world becomes, the more I appreciate the stories that are hidden in our surrounding architecture, stories waiting to be decoded. Architecture in many ways is like a time capsule, the key to the history of the region. It shapes and defines the landscape and its people. The best thing about enjoying architecture is that it is free and accessible to anyone.

To understand better the impact and importance the built environment can have on our lives, I went on a little roadtrip to the little known province of Vorarlberg last Autumn. If there was a premier league of architectural regions, Vorarlberg would feature quite high on that table. From community centres, museums to mountain tops, private residences and even bus stops in remote villages, Vorarlberg is a treasure trove of amazing architecture waiting to be discovered. If you are looking for the perfect lesson in architecture, this is the place to visit.

Schoppernau

Dominated by a dreamy Baroque church tower that is a feature of many of the villages in the area and of course, the beautiful half timbered houses that are typical of the Bregenzerwald, Schoppernau is the perfect starting point for me to get an insight into the architectural heritage of Vorarlberg.

The location of the town and its significance can be deciphered from the name – many villages in the Bregenzerwald have names that end with the letters “-au”. The German word Au(e) indicates a location close to streams and rivers. Lying on the upper reaches of the Bregenzerach river,  Schoppernau for centuries has been a fertile arable land popular with alpine farmers like the famous German writer, social reformer Franz Michael Felder who was also renowned for his gourmet Felder cheese that is still made in the village to this day.

The farmers like Felder built primitive huts in the summer using timber wood from the surrounding forests. Wood was a natural and also sustainable material for building these huts -they were of course durable and had natural insulation characteristics. Through time these primitive huts evolved into large half timbered houses and would typically contain the  dwelling, stable and barn all under one roof.  Crafted by master builder families such as the Beers, Moosbruggers and Thumbs, these farmhouses became icons of the region and saw the evolution of the building culture that has thrived to the current day.

‘When you look at a human, it’s their face and eyes that strikes you and for these buildings, it’s the doors and their windows that strike your soul.’

Luis Bär 

To understand how people in the Bregenzerwald deal with their environment, there is the Umgang Bregenzerwald , a series of 12 short village walks through 13 villages in the region which allows you to stroll through and admire the architectural heritage of each village.  We signed up for our walk via the tourism office in Schoppernau ( more details here ) , where we met the passionate Luis Bär, a retired former school teacher who knows every blade of grass in the village and the stories of its people. Luis brought the village to life with a wonderful array of stories and taking us to see some of the town’s most iconic buildings ranging from the Bergkäserei Schoppernau, farmhouses, the old sawmill to the fire department, and the primary school.

Bergkäserei Schoppernau

Old, renovated farmhouses stand next to contemporary buildings which make Schoppernau’s transformation from a farming village to a tourist resort visible. However, there are still visible scars of the passage of time that are hard to ignore. During our walk with Luis, we notice a few gloriously beautiful but decaying buildings sullenly standing beside the better preserved farmhouses. This is apparently a feature of many older buildings in Bregenzerwald. Luis informed us that the owners prefer them empty and drive up the price rather than sell them to younger people. The sense of loss and sadness deepens when we walk past the workshop house of the local woodworker. There’s a huge pile of rotting wood piled up in his garden that had evidently been left in the open for a while now. The woodworker would have joined pieces of wood together in the village with the help of the water power of the stream in the village. As years went by, there was a steady decline in the needs for his services. He apparently broke his leg recently so the workshop faces an uncertain fate. There is an idea to convert the workshop into a museum but Luis tells me that there’s not enough money around to make this idea a reality.

Nevertheless, the preservation of their architectural heritage and affinity for wooden craftsmanship is of great importance to the people in Bregenzerwald. Vorarlberg’s baroque master builders’ legacy has been carried on by a host of local and international names. High above the slopes of Schoppernau, to understand how the legacy has been passed on, our next stop was the Villa Maund, the interior of the villa which was built entirely by Bregenzerwald craftsmen with the help of one of the world’s most celebrated interior designers.

The Austrian countryside house that William Morris built in the Alps

Villa Maund

There is a sense of freedom of being towards the top of a mountain. It is the closest thing to flying and feeling like a bird. I drink in the rarified air, a mixture of the sweet aroma of wildflowers and the pungent, bovine scent of the nearby Alpine cows that gorge on the long thick grass. As they sway their heads back and forth in harmony, the huge bells slung around the necks release a wonderful meditative hum. The sound is broken by the distant thunder of water storming down the mountains in the distant background. There is a dark, thick swirling mass of trees encroaching on the steep slopes of the mountain. Below, spread like a bountiful feast, is an amazing panorama of mirror-flat lakes , dreamy church spires, grassy meadows and wooden timbered houses of Schoppernau. I could sit here all day. This would be the perfect place to build my dream house, once I’m rich enough. Ironically, right in the distance where the forest meets the mountain, almost 150 years ago , a famous English painter, architect and poet probably thought the same thing as me and built a beautiful wooden countryside retreat.  Quite how William Morris came to design a countryhouse in Vorarlberg, Austria is a mystery. It’s an absurdly beautiful building in a lofty surreal setting.

I did my research and found few precious facts on the internet.  Apparently, William Morris designed two other houses for the owner of the countryhouse, Sir John Oakley Maund in Switzerland before designing the Villa Maund in 1891. English banker and mountaineer Sir Maund, played an important role during the “Goldene Jahre des Alpinismus” which was the time when most of the important mountains in the western alps where climbed for the first time. He was the first to climb the east summit of the 4,000 metres (13,000 ft) high Les Droites in the Mont Blanc massif. 

The house itself is dreamy, a nod to the excellence of wooden craftsmanship that is a hallmark of the Vorarlberg region. With a striking wooden staircase decorated with taxidermy and a fireplace that is straight out of a Wes Anderson movie, it is a wonderful place to linger in. No surprise, the villa is highly in demand for wedding and special events. Access to the place is complicated but guided tours are offered in the summer by the nearby Hotel Adler. 

My Pilgrimage to the Heart of the Region – to Andelsbuch

I continued my pilgrimage to what many consider the heart of Vorarlberg’s architectural wunderland, the village of Andelsbuch. A popular starting point for hikers, skiers and paragliding on the nearby “Niedere”, Andelsbuch has a wonderful air of calm and peace that is only broken by the odd car whooshing by. We are right in the middle of the valley, surrounded by grassy meadows.  The main drag of the town is a picture of Austrian rural idyllic perfection – lined with beautiful timber buildings, wooden balconies overflowing with colourful flowers.  

The town is an interesting contrast of old and new. You have stunning modern buildings like the two-storey wooden cubed dwelling of the Andelsbuch’s local council offices and the grey brown hued  Wälder Versicherung insurance company building. With its pentagram shaped top, I can’t resist taking a shot of it. Somehow it reminded me a lot of the wooden barn building on the album cover of ‘Sleep Well Beast’ by the ‘The National.’  The village naturally draws in tons of tourists thanks to its eye catching buildings but the one place that stands out from all the surroundings is the Werkraumhaus , a minimalist glass temple designed by renowned Swiss architect Peter Zumthor. Designed with the help of tradespeople of the region whose 90 members are involved in everything from wood processing, joiners, carpenters to locksmiths, bricklayers and lighting producers, Werkraumhaus distills centuries of craftsmanship of Bregenzerwald under one roof.

The building with its protruding wooden roof and simple glass facade aptly sums up the fine dialogue that has been started here between built and living environment. Whether you are standing inside or looking in, the surrounding landscape and the building feel very much in harmony and inseparable. Within its 700 m2 space at any time of the year, you can expect a variety of exhibitions showcasing the works of its members.

GASTGEBEN exhibition, Werkraumhaus Andelsbuch

During my visit, I had the chance to experience the excellent GASTGEBEN exhibition which explores the important theme of what craftsmanship and hospitality have in common. Having experienced firsthand the importance of design and how local craftsmanship can elevate the guest experience in hostels, it was an exhibition I really enjoyed and offered me an excellent insight into how local Bregenzerwald craftsmen have shaped the hospitality industry by creating pieces that are not only sustainable but are  durable, timeless and functional. Do take time to browse the Werkraumhaus shop which showcases the handiwork of its members with items ranging from felt baby swings, wooden toys to chopping boards and stools. Besides organizing the design competition Handwerk + Form every three years, the centre also organises training at local colleges to ensure that there is enough skilled craftsmen to continue their powerful legacy.

My trip to Vorarlberg was like being ushered into a new world , decoding a new language of the building and living. I think with the pressing issue of climate change and how we, as communities can evolve to withstand its impact, it is important we start developing a better appreciation of the fragile relationship between our built environment and nature.  

One such place in Vorarlberg is the small settlement of Krumbach.  A village of 1000 people, Krumbach is a scattered settlement typical of Vorderer Bregenzerwald, with large green areas used for agriculture. With a delicate ecosystem, conservation is the watch word here. Local residents have a ‘think local, act global’ approach to living here, hosting events like a  book presentation and discussion with author Hans Putzer and Johann Kandler from Climate Alliance on “hunger wars” and recently they organised a puppet show on the topic of ‘Climate justice and sharing’. Even the local church has got involved with establishing a fair trade parish café plus there has been the launch of fundraising efforts for an orphanage in Ghana.

The blue sky thinking extends to the local transport system – there is an excellent public transport system in place, a yellow country bus that connects the villages of Bregenzerwald. However in Krumbach, the bus stops are not your usual boring old bus stops. Here, the bus stops in keeping with the inventive bold tradition of local craftsmanship were designed by a number of world famous local architects. Alongside local architects Bernardo Bader, Rene Bechte and Hermann Kaufmann, a number of international architecture offices were invited to design the small bus shelters for the community of Krumbach. 

The result were seven unique bus shelters, all with their own unique architectural styles and built to perfection working with different materials-wood, glass and metal.

The most important aspect of their brief was to spend time in the village, speak to the locals and come up with a design that would represent their culture and traditions and simultaneously stand in harmony with the surrounding environment.

“There’s a million cliches in the world, so if you are just adding to that, you’re not really doing anything that’s creatively different.”

Catherine Hylan

This is epitomised in Krumbach. Today, these modernist creations sit comfortable beside the settlement’s traditionally designed houses. For Hylan, it is the “contrast between this architecture and the surrounding scenery” that most intrigued her. 

The bus stops each offer their own unique interpretation of the relationship that the locals have with their environment and remain a testimony to the strong spirit of collaboration that exists in Vorarlberg. 

My Take Home Lesson From Vorarlberg

The lesson I take away from this trip, that I think applies to us all is that the amazing harmony that locals in Vorarlberg enjoy with their natural surroundings was achieved without sacrificing their traditions or modernity, their craftsmanship or their building culture. It is a powerful reminder to us all, especially some of our so called world leaders, that progress can be achieved without sacrificing our environment, our ideals and most importantly our community. 

Planning your architectural odyssey to Vorarlberg

If you are looking to take one of the Umgang Bregenzerwald free guided tours, click here for the current schedule. The other option is do the tours self guided with the help of the ‘Umgang Bregenzerwald’ book which is a wonderful mix of personal anecdotes from locals and also from writers who have a strong connection to the Bregenzerwald. The book and accompanying folders are available from any one of the tourist offices and from the Bregenzerwald Tourismus office in Egg.

If you’re keen to find out the guided tours of Villa Maund including the option of renting the villa for a special occasion , drop a line to the Hotel Adler Gasthof at villamaund@gasthof-adler.at or phone them on +43 (0)5515 2106

Werkraumhaus is open from Tuesday to Saturday (10 a.m. – 6 p.m ) but remains closed on Sunday and Monday. Entrance fees are €7.50 for adults and there is a discounted rate of €6 for pupils, students, & apprentices. Kids and adolescents up to 16 years go free!

Travel around Vorarlberg for free with their inclusive card!

I’m leaving Nice this time with my passport. My heart feels older but lighter as I head to the airport. I look out of my airplane window , the most glorious sunset you could imagine, set against the betwitching, blue waters that the Med is famed for. I feel a tinge of sadness as my plane spreads it’s big fat wings and tears into the stratosphere, leaving Nice just a glorious twinkle in the corner of my eye.

Time changes everything. It’s been 8 years since I was last in Nice. I roam the streets awkwardly, with the strange but distant affection of suddenly being acquainted with a long lost friend. I feel there’s a lot to catchup but I’m not quite sure quite where to start.

It’s carnaval season and the city looks gorgeous, decked out in it’s sunday best. The sky looks bluer than before. The winter sun feels mellow and not so harsh on my skin as the August sun from all those years ago. I delight in the beautiful array of pastel shades of all the glorious buildings lining the streets. Yesterday’s dirty clothes flutter in the sunny breeze, waving at me merrily from the ornate Art Deco wrought iron balconies.

It’s good to be back but the reunion feels strained. I struggle to place any of the streets from memory. I was only here for 3 whole days. August, 2012. What did I do?  Well, as I alluded to you earlier, I lost my passport in Nice. Well, I was actually pickpocketed. On my way to my hostel. I was walking the elegant stretch of the Promenade des Anglais, affectionately named after the bleached Brits who have been coming here since the time of Queen Victoria in search of sunshine to soothe their weary souls. Somewhere along the way, while being distracted by the sun and drop dead beauty of those beautiful Art Deco villas lining the stretch of the promenade , someone must have pickpocketed me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Filling out my stolen passport forms at the Nice Police Station PC which was running on Windows 95 I think.

A post shared by Kash Bhattacharya (@budgettraveller) on Aug 23, 2012 at 9:48am PDT

Nothing is worse that losing your passport on holiday.Money, you can replace. A passport, on the other hand, is a huge pain in the ass. After spending an eternity filing my stolen passport report at the local police station on a Windows 95 PC, I had to leg it to Marseille to the British Consul there to get my emergency passport. In the end, I had just had a day to explore Nice.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Promenade de Anglais #nice #france #instamood #summer

A post shared by Kash Bhattacharya (@budgettraveller) on Aug 15, 2012 at 7:39am PDT

I spent a part of it walking a crowded Promenade des Anglais, followed by a brief exploration of the Museum of Modern Art where I was entranced by the buxom beauties of Niki de Saint Phalle. Rest of the day, I spent getting wasted in my hostel, the gorgeous Villa Saint Exupery Gardens ( which sadly is no longer ) I remember being dragged away on some wild pub crawl which involved table dancing in some pit of the Vieux Old town before I randomly ended up in bed with a gorgeous Dutch backpacker. The following morning was one of confusion. The Dutch lady, utterly embarrassed about our hookup left my room hastily and of course I woke up with one of the worst hangovers in living memory. With my emergency passport expiring soon, I left Nice on an expensive easyJet flight to Edinburgh with a weary heart and a rotten hangover.

Time changes everything. Almost. I leave with a similar heavy heart. After a week of walking the pastel perfect streets of Nice, I had developed a feeling of almost belonging here. I’ve said this before, but it is amazing how quickly you can become rooted to a place , especially when your life is an unpredictable nomadic mess. I’m sure any long term traveller can relate to this sentiment. I didn’t love how expensive food and drink was in Nice, but as is the case, when happiness is rationed, I started appreciating life in Nice along its rougher edges. Evenings became a quest in the hunt of the cheapest and best Socca, the ubiquitous chickpea pancakes that locals stuff their gullets with the help of generous squeezes of lemon juice and the liberal sprinkling of black pepper. Plus, there was the other quest of finding the best happy hour deals and cheapest house wine.

This time, I was however leaving someone by my side, my partner of the last 3 years, Sabrina. Together, we leave behind a wealth of shared memories. The streets have been marked with our strains of drunken laughter , tears of boxed wine and the umpteen crumbs of pizza and Socca we devoured.

My cup of happiness, like the gorgeous water fountain on Plaza Masséna, overflows into the streets and then into the sea. It sets off another one of those steady, mesmerising ripples of the murky blue Mediterranean Sea, a gentle quiver of happiness in the vast ocean of memories.

Tony Revolori-‘Zero’ from ‘The Grand Budapest Hotel’

The picture perfect streets of Görlitz. Featuring: Carolin Steig- WeTraveltheWorld.De

Few cities in Germany divide opinion like Görlitz.

It is hard to see why at first glance. During my first few hours of discovering this city, I walk around carrying my jaw in my hands. It was as Tony Revolori claimed, quite possibly the most unexpectedly beautiful city in Germany I had visited in recent years. There are 4000 listed buildings within the city (Note: Görlitz was spared of any bombing during WW2). To give you some context, Berlin has only 1500 listed buildings. From Baroque to Renaissance to Neoclassical to Art Deco, within a short walking radius, you can tick off all the major architectural highlights of the last few centuries. Hollywood, no surprise has come calling in the last few years. However, like most post reunification cities in the east, the city remains a work in progress. It feels a little unloved and rough around the edges. Which is fine by me. I enjoy imperfect cities.

Walking through Görlitz at times, feels really like a city stuck in time.

Globalisation never arrived here. There are no hipster cafes nor hipsters in sight. Very few young people. The 25 years since the fall of the Wall, has seen young people leave Görlitz and East Germany en masse creating a massive vacuum. Now, the city is trying to figure out new ways to attract youth and investment. Boosting tourism and inviting people like me I guess is part of their strategy to reignite interest in the city. However, there are massive challenges ahead. While strolling through the main square of the city, I spot with a shiver down my spine, the campaign booths of the right wing party, the AfD. I had arrived at a pretty critical moment in the city’s future.Just 3 days later the city was going to make a choice between the right wing AfD candidate and Angela Merkel’s Christian Democratic Union. This city was definitely on the edge, hanging off a precipice and I was right there in the middle of it all, walking the fine line between its beautiful past and uncertain future.

9.30am. We have just a day to explore the city.

I arrive with my other half, Sabrina at the bus stop in front of the ragged exterior of the train station. A few wrinkly faced locals are basking in the sunshine. The moment we arrive, our shadows towering across the cobbled streets, we are greeted by a few raised eyebrows and a grunt or two. I choose to ignore the prying eyes burying into the back of our heads. Few more odd stares and turning heads greet us during the 10 minute bus journey. I saw a man with purple eyes and he almost scared me. It is not uncommon to attract bewildering stares where we go :  Sabrina and I make an incongruous pairing – she is a blue eyed, tall German lady -6ft 1 to be precise and I’m 5ft 5. We definitely spice up proceedings wherever we go.

The bus drops us off near the historic centre. We glide over cobbled streets, soaking in the relative calm of the early morning. Pigeons coo at us, from the spires of glorious candy box buildings. The more we venture into the city, the  more bewitching the architecture -from Baroque to Renaissance to Neoclassical to Art Deco – walking Görlitz is a time traveller’s dream. Every corner, every twist and you’re in Babylon Berlin or 1920’s Paris.

Many of the buildings in Görlitz are still in desperate need of restoration.

Some of the buildings are like the set of a Western film and boarded shopfronts with missing windows appear as if looted by cowboys. However, money seems to be coming into the city. A mysterious benefactor over the last few years has spent more than 10 million euros to help restore the buildings to their former glory.  Based on extensive googling and reading multiple conspiracy theory websites, my money is on Nicholas Cage. Or probably someone within Hollywood. The city has been a popular site for shooting Hollywood movies like the Reader, The Monuments Men and Inglorious Basterds, earning it the dreadful moniker, ‘Görliwood’. The most iconic movie shot here remains Wes Anderson’s delightful ‘ The Grand Budapest Hotel’- one of the reasons that initially attracted me to the city.

Spot the similarities?

One of the pearls of Görlitz’s magnificent architecture is the setting for the Grand Budapest Hotel. Yes, it really exists!

The setting for the Grand Budapest is an abandoned, Art Nouveau department store in Görlitz called Görlitzer Warenhaus (An der Frauenkirche 5-7 ) Anderson found the space while location scouting for the movie and promptly fell in love with its unique, historical architecture. Thanks to the fantastic privileges of my day job, we got a whole hour to explore the building. ( Note: You don’t need to be a blogger or have 5 million klubeks to visit ‘The Grand Budapest Hotel’ -you can visit the building for FREE on Thursdays, Friday evenings only).

There’s something about a movie setting coming to life right in front of your eyes.

I recognise the exquisite stairways, elevators and atrium of the building from the movie. At one point, I try to stop taking photos and keep my phone back in my pocket to soak it all in. The fact that the building remains abandoned and empty just adds more to the illicit charm of visiting the place. Visit soon though, the building has been acquired with plans to redevelop it into a luxury goods store.

Görlitz has a few more surprises in store.

Barely a few minutes walk on Neißstraße 30 is another gorgeous baroque house – The Kulturhistorisches Museum (cultural history museum), which houses the stunning Upper Lusatian Library of Sciences. The unique and beautiful library is arranged with beech shelves in the middle of the room, instead of along the walls. This gives the feeling and the grandeur of being on a stage and it really takes your breath away. The library often features on lists of the most beautiful libraries in the world. It contains 40,000 volumes with numerous rarities and treasures, including medieval manuscripts and incunabula, which were the earliest printed books before 1501.

Swan crossing the Neisse Rover that spans the border between Germany and Poland

Aldtstadtbrucke -Old Town bridge that connects Görlitz and Zgorzelec

A city divided or a city reunited?

A short walk across the 200 feet wide Altstadtbrücke (Old Town Bridge) brings you to its other half, the Polish city of Zgorzelec. The proximity of the two cities makes Görlitz a unique location where you can experience two countries and cultures in one place. I walk across the bridge and feel a shiver, the hand of history run down my spine. The bridge only became fully accessible as late as 2007 when Poland gained accession to the EU. Imagine a world with boundaries, walls and where we live divided. Separated. Thankfully here there are no borders, no longer any border checks. No one raises an eyebrow as I cross the line that demarcates the border between the two countries. Signs in a drab font advertising cheap cigarettes and booze giveaway the fact that I am now in Poland. A pretty row of restored houses lines the riverbank on the Polish side. One of them bears the plaque of its most iconic resident, Görlitz’s most famous son, Jacob Böhme, a philosopher and Christian mystic born in the 16th century. We enjoy a symbolic Zywiec beer at one of the restaurants lining the river. I don’t have zlotys with me but the owner happily accepts euros. I sadly don’t have time to see Zgorzelec. However, later when I climb to the top of the tower hall , you are told the tale of two cities. On one hand you see the beautifully preserved dreamy spires and roofs of Görlitz and then in the distance beyond the pretty pastel coloured houses on the riverfront you have the not so pretty modern reality of its twin city – rows of prefabricated concrete Socialist architecture. Ultimately it is a matter of personal taste but it is fascinating to see two cities with such split personalities and rapidly contrasting architectural styles, side by side.

Opening scene from the movie- the identical wall below was used in the movie- lettering changed obviously

I am coming to the end of my day with more questions than answers walking around Görlitz.

I have enough beautiful pictures and tons of historical facts to write a powder puff piece about the city but I’m still lacking any critical insights about the city itself. Just then, by some miracle, a door opens.

A cafe I had passed twice earlier in the day caught my eye again.

It was called Cafe Herzstück. ( Weberstraße 2). I think it was their outdoor menu board -the day menu, with all the tasty vegan and vegetarian options colourfully presented, that had piqued my curiosity. The cafe seems to be wrapping up for the day when we walk in but the owner Nancy welcomes us to linger for awhile. On the surface it seems like any other normal, cosy cafe but my eye spots a row of Singer sewing machines. I am curious to know more and Nancy was more than happy to tell me more.

‘We are the first dedicated sewing cafe in the area. We are also a meeting point for locals in the city and offer it to them for meetings or presentations. You’ll find every week everything from book readings, concerts to praline chocolate making classes and table football classes-something for everyone here. Knitting clubs have spread like wildfire over the past few years across Germany and I thought why not in Görlitz .’

I am curious. I could see a concept like a sewing cafe totally working in Berlin. Why Görlitz?

‘I wanted to show a different side to Görlitz , a creative, open minded Görlitz . We have a good energy in the cafe and want to attract open minded people with good energy to our cafe. Sure, it is more challenging to open a business here than say in Dresden or Berlin but we want to give something back to this place and make a difference. Görlitz deserves another chance. The city has a lot going for it despite the negativity. Nature is close to us. There’s a lot of loved and unloved buildings. History lives here, small things but important things. Walking around the city reminds you to be a child and in awe of life. Sure. There’s a lot of shit going in Görlitz but in the end I want to devote my energy to good things and good people. This cafe is the embodiment of my energy.’

I can’t say how much I wanted to hear those words. Something huge, a force bigger than life, swept over me and released the tension, the sadness. I could also see it in Sabrina’s eyes. We gave her a huge hug. Even though the cafe was closed, she gifted us her bestselling chocolate vegan cake. Its delicious. We say goodbye and hope to return one day soon. We’re thirsty for one last beer before we return to the hotel. Nancy directs us to her friend, Alexander Klaus up the road who runs Brauerei Bierblume.

Amazing how once you connect with one amazing local, how the city opens up to you.

We had passed Brauerei Bierblume (Neißstraße 8) a few times and it looked quite ordinary from the outside. On the inside it is a different story. Formerly a brewery dating back to the 18th century, we walk in and discover a beautiful inner courtyard where locals on wooden benches are supping their beer from large glass mugs. There’s a heavenly silence, coming here feels like entering an oasis, a sanctuary. After mentioning Nancy’s name, Alexander Klaus’s face lights up and he sits down to tell us a bit more about Brauerei Bierblume.

The name Bierblume derives from its humble origins: the microbrewery started out from a little flower shop -‘House of Blume’ before they moved into the current premises. Alexander’s wife Diana was the original inspiration for the idea. She was a beer sommelier and only after meeting her, did Alex develop an appreciation for beer( I only drank whisky!).They decided to move back to Saxony and study management. During their studies they started brewing beer for fun for their professor at university and friends. That’s where their hobby of brewing beer flowered into the current business idea. They have customers from all over the world with clients ranging from east Siberia to Washington.

Same question, I asked Nancy, I had to ask Alex. Why Görlitz ?

‘I grew up here. We chose to live here because it’s a very beautiful city. It developed from a dirty rundown East German city into a little pearl, a little hidden gem’

I leave the place on a high. Maybe it was the beer speaking. A trick of the mellow, fading light of day. Or maybe it was just the silent beauty of the place, the cobbled streets empty again and devoid of tourists.

I leave the place with hope in my heart.

As often with places that are on the margins, that have been left behind due to the lack of economic progress or opportunities, there’s always a sense of bitterness of what could have been. I’ve seen a similar story unfolding in Britain, especially the old industrial and mining towns where economic opportunities have dwindled and so have all the young people. Some people exploit that lack of hope and fear in people to sow the seeds of doubt, divide people. Others, like Nancy and Alexander find light, even when there is little hope, and try to bring people together over a simple jug of beer or a humble cupcake. They reminded me that in the end, we must strive to rise above the divisions being created and remember, it is not the politics but the people that define a place.

Essential facts

Fly into Berlin or Dresden and then take the train to Görlitz . Trains run frequently between Dresden and Gorlitz ( €24, 1 to 1 1/2 hours) If you are coming from Berlin , change in Cottbus ( €44, 2 1/2 hours )

Where to stay in Görlitz

One of the best deals in town is the 3 star Best Western Hotel Via Regia where you can grab a private rooms for as little as €70 a night via Booking.com

Hotel rooms are modern, extremely comfortable and clean. The hotel serves a very generous buffet breakfast. Only minor drawback is the location- hotel is a 5 minute walk from the station and a bit far from the centre of town. Perfect if you have a car.

Another excellent budget option for couples or solo travellers is centrally located Görlitz “Old Town” Europe Youth Hostel. Located in a beautiful period building. ( one of the grandest buildings on the square-it really doesn’t like a hostel from outside ) the hostel has large inner courtyard that is perfect to relax in after a day of sightseeing, generous buffet breakfast plus simple but comfortable rooms-altogether this hostel is a good choice if you’re on a tight budget. Room prices start from €60 a night for a double and include breakfast. A bed in a multi bed dorm starts from €25 per person, per night and includes breakfast.

Disclaimer

My stay in Görlitz was possible thanks to the support of the Saxony Tourism Board who invited me to discover some of the region’s lesser known cities: Meissen, Görlitz and Bautzen. I’d like to take the opportunity to let you know that while my trip was supported by the tourism board, the article and all the views represented here are entirely mine. Thank you for reading.