Last days of summer

Summer’s still not over in Berlin but as the days get shorter and everyone’s agendas and lists are filling up, now feels like a good time to reflect on those happy days spent in Brandenburg. Days that smelled like hot waffles, freshly cut grass and no plans for the near future. This is a collection of photos I took between July and September and up until now, I didn’t actually realise how much time I spent out in the countryside. I rediscovered the fun of trampolines with my cousins, had long conversations about love and age and how both affect each other with my wise great aunt and uncle and then cycled to the closest lake which had the perfect temperature (in September). I spent a weekend with friends near Werbellinsee, dipped my feet into Liepnitzsee while having a sunset beer or two, barbequed in a hidden spot by Wannsee and cuddled with a lot of dogs. Looking back, I didn’t need spectacular mountains or white beaches this summer, friends, waves and overgrown bike paths were enough. 

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Slow Sundays by the lake

Less photos, more meaning. That’s the pledge I made at the beginning of this month, hoping for a slow and beautiful summer. I want it to be less about big numbers, lots of photos or full diaries and more about real adventures, sleepless nights and books that take my breath away. In fact, I cannot wait for weekends of camping by the lake, crossing the Alps and cycling through the county of Brandenburg because more often than not, good things (strawberries) are so close.

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I’m starting to think that perhaps autumn in Berlin is even more magical than summer. In a rare outing to Müggelsee and Neu-Venedig last weekend, I finally took a couple of snaps again just for the fun of it. Seriously, look at these colours! Some days literally leave no time to just stop and breathe at the moment, so doing just that and leaving all the questions, occasional confusion (well, let’s scratch the occasional) and the loose ideas on my desk for an afternoon was heavenly. So, without further ado, this is what my current favourite place on earth looks like in autumn. Sorry for the few words, I just wanted to say hi quickly and show you fifty shades of orange. ❤

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Wir fliegen

What’s the perfect summer day? It could be white sandy beaches, huge palm trees, turquoise waves… just like that ancient Windows desktop background image. Or maybe perfect is something you can’t plan, something a little absurd, something so unexpected and out of the ordinary that you struggle to believe it really happened the morning after. And maybe sometimes perfect is the most ordinary of all things. Anyway. Perfect is this, perfect are these guys and perfect are the waves we jumped into a few weeks ago.

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Aye Aye Captain

Bonjour! This post is the result of a naughty break from deepening my understanding of the Arabic language, but I am hoping some holiday snaps will inspire my stubborn European throat to finally pronounce the ح in a way that won’t make the locals here shake their heads in amusement. Well, so, you may have noticed that my favourite motives are probably waves and water in fifty shades of blue. So it was only natural that during a 30-minute ferry ride crossing Lake Garda, I snapped away like there was no tomorrow.

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An attempt to survive in the Norwegian mountains

If there has ever been a story worth telling on this blog, it’s this one here, so listen up!

We’re set in Norway, a bit north of Bergen in early August (although the photos will make you assume it’s November already, brrr!) and two girls with backpacks as huge as the smiles on their faces. We’re just about to take a five-day hiking trip through the middle of Norwegian nowhere, behind every mountain a completely new world of different trees, colours and vegetation.  It took a while to accept that magnificence as the new status quo. You could shout as loud as you wanted, the few sheep that were there couldn’t care less, and anything we talked about suddenly seemed tremendously trivial, because hey, we somehow landed in paradise.

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When I fell in love with Canada

I kind of knew that would happen. Even my dentist said something along the lines of “Caroline, I don’t really know you, but I just came back from Canada, and Vancouver has your DNA written all over it.” Alrighty! But let’s start with the Toronto area for now. One Friday night my friend asked whether I’d fancy a weekend at some of his mates’ cottage by the lake. What? How do people have cottages by the lake? That’s awesome! I even skipped the trip to the Niagara Falls for that. They are a really ‘boring and commercial tourist experience,’ I’ve been told.

But then things went so amazing that I really got into the idea of having my own lake cottage. I would subscribe to all magazines and newspapers I like, even have enough time to read them, swim to the other side of the lake in the mornings and shout at people who try to jump from my cliff. That’s right, my cottage would be built right on a cliff. The one we stayed in certainly did. And we jumped right off it, 10 metres downhill… rather unforgettable. In case I’ll still be blogging at the sweet age of 60-something, you might have to get used to a daily recap of those morning swims, feature reviews of the ‘Cottage Life’ magazine and the dreadful youth that knows no manners. But for now I should better get some photos ready to show my dentist!














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