Settling into the Dorf

That dull view at the office.

Getting a German work permit isn’t so hard if you put in your time. Time spent lumbering through government offices. Time spent getting forms stamped, then signing here and here.  Of course, putting in your time waiting to do all of that signing and stamping.

While I was waiting to get some forms stamped or signed or whatever, I mentioned to the HR person with me that I had been affectionately calling my new city the Dorf among friends. She looked shocked. You can’t call it that, she said. Dorf means village, you see, and other Dusseldorfers, being very proud and posh people, would not appreciate having their city called a village.

So, here I am in a land with little sense of irony. That will be one of the biggest things I will have to adjust to, and watch out for.

Moving to Budapest was an adjustment, but it was not too hard for me in some ways. I liked the food, I found the people nice, and it was a beautiful city. I worked hard at the language and got to a level where I could function the basic day-to-day tasks. I went to punk rock shows, hiked in the hills, and drank fröccs on the patios.

Moving to Dusseldorf has been like hitting the reset button. Once again I am confronted with a befuddling language – I never thought I’d wish for the familiarity of Hungarian. That will likely be the first and only time you read that from a foreigner. It’s a different culture, both in the ad agency and out in the real world.

The upside is that Dusseldorf is pretty, and there's an old town that is essentially filled with bars and pubs and beer halls. It’s also a little cloudier here and a little colder, but the welcome from the people here has been warm.

Then there’s the job. I don’t talk much shop here, but I’ll take a moment to get into it because I came to the Dorf for a job. I will be working on a global account again, like the gig in Budapest, so it is a great professional opportunity. I’m three weeks in and I know it will have its fair share of challenges, but I am excited about it.

While I’m still missing my Canadian people and my new friends in the East, being in the Dorf opens up a whole lot of adventures in strange places. I can’t help but be a little excited about that.

A bit of sun brings the Dorfers flocking to the Rhine. 

The might Rhine!

The Stademuseum's backyard pond.

Un-blog-able Berlin

After visiting Berlin something like six times I can honestly say that Berlin is a giant mess of a city.

No? Let’s journey back into history, as this blog is wont to do.

Berlin – on the swampy banks of the Spree – suddenly became a capital of an empire and hastily went about building itself up to suit the name. Then the war happened. Since then it’s been starved, had its streets taken over by revolutionaries and reactionaries, became a decadent party city, then a National Socialist party city, got smashed into ruins, surrounded by communist terriory, had a wall slammed through the middle of it, then got jolted into the rest of the world.

Since the beginning, Berlin has been an exercise in urban improvisation. It simply had to adapt with the circumstances that have swamped it over time. Today, there’s a civic spirit of improvisation in the city. Just look at all those famous clubs in old factories and bunkers.

The easiest blog would have been to chronicle the many trips there, and the Discovery Walks that Kata and I have taken. I don’t like writing those sorts of travelogues. I was always looking for a theme to write about after every visit. In my view, this beautiful mess of city in the East has been unblogable. Then I realized we’ve been improvising our trips as well.

The program for any weekend visit was pretty loose. We‘d have a desire to visit an exhibition or go to a particular park. Mostly we just bought a beer at a kiosk and walked about. We’d stroll down side streets. There are plenty of corner bistros on the corners of those side streets for a quick lunch. We never had a bad meal doing that. There were always plenty of kiosks for a second roady beer.

We made plans as we went. During the spring and summer, we found shady spots in the parks, having lunch and sipping beer among the hipsters. All the while, we kept walking. Through flea markets in Prenzlauer, through grotty warehouse bars in Friedrichstain, a gallery in Charlottenburg, and along the Landwehr Canal (easily our favourite Berlin landmark).

This is the Berlin I know and grew to enjoy.

Berlin’s messy beauty wants you to throw away the itinerary and walk about. Rent a bike. Use your two feet. Ride on a double-decker bus. If you see a bar that looks cool, chances are it is cool. Take a chance on that restaurant on the corner.

Go to Berlin. Ditch the plan. Get lost in the mess.

The quiet, nearly derelict Zionskirche, near Bernauer Strasse.

East Side Gallery

More East Side Gallery.

The dark and shiny, beside the gray and grotty.

The frogs of Volkspark Weinberg.

Stuff happened here before WWII.
Remember Napoleon? This is a monument to his defeat.

Viktoria Falls.

Mitte.

I saw this many times on the ride into Berlin from Adlershof.

Uhhh... Somwhere in Berlin.

Mysterious obelisk in Charlottenburg.

Self explanatory, hopefully.

Moving to a new strange place

I almost didn’t come out to Budapest. It took the sage advice of two buddies to convince me to come out. Six months, I figured, I’ll see how it goes.

Twenty-two months later I am leaving Budapest with a mix of feelings. I’m excited about the next adventure in a strange place. I’m sad to leave an incredible city where I’ve made great friends.

Thankfully the sadness is softened by the fact that I’m only going to Germany. I will come back, which is good because I don't like goodbyes and I really enjoyed discovering this city.

Coming here was indeed the right decision. 

See you all again soon!