The Day it Snowed in the Dorf

I shouldn’t be this enthusiastic about frozen water particles, but I am. It snowed in Dusseldorf!

I woke up Saturday morning, opened the blinds to see big fluffy snow flakes falling from the sky and settling on the pedestrian street below. 

"It’s snowing," I yelled to a groggy Kata.

As an adult, I understand that I'm supposed to resent the snow, or at least feign resentment. It’s dangerous to drive in, back breaking to shovel from your driveway, and, for four to five months of the year, serves as natural fodder for water cooler banter in the office.

But a little bit of snow occasionally is nice, in some cases needed. Take the Christmas season, which I spent in Canada with only a dusting of snow. There are no carols called Green Christmas.

On the other side of the Atlantic, winter in the Dorf consists of greyness, high winds, cold-ass rain, and more greyness. I made fun of the darkness of Hungary once, but the Dorf''s grey, soggy, wet cold trumps that. 

And! While Toronto has gotten snow days and cold alerts, the temperature here sits above zero, with a wind that whips through the streets and a wet, rainy cold that chills you down to your bones. No wonder waterproof Jack Wolfskin winter jackets are worn by so many people they could be Germany's national uniform. 

Yes, I sympathise with everyone back home with their Facebook snow photos and Twitter complaints about driving in the stuff. I've been there, I understand. But winter is not winter without a bit of snow.

Anyway, we got some snow. So on this snowy Saturday, we walked through the Altstadt to a bakery for breakfast and sat by the window and watched the snow fall. The Altstadt is also the Dorf's party centre, so there was almost no one around, aside from the odd parent struggling to pull sleds carrying a kids dressed like eskimos. 

As the falling snow let up, we visited the Japanese garden – there is a big Japanese population in the Dorf, though not as big as the German population. Nothing was in bloom, of course, but the pond was frozen and the snow has settled on the trees.

I’ll let the photos speak of the garden for themselves, but it really demonstrates that a little bit of white makes the grey a little more bearable.

I'm not the only one happy about the snow. Check out this photobombing snowman:
happy about the snow and likely happy about being made. 

The Japanese garden.

A happy Hungarian in a Japanese garden in Germany, posing for the Canadian photographer.

Finally that first post of 2015

Clearly keeping up with the blog was not a New Year’s resolution.

If it was a resolution, it’s not completely my fault for lacking the resolve. After spending the holidays in Canada, I returned to the Dorf jet lagged and then bed/toilet ridden with a vicious stomach virus.

I fly into the Dorf on the morning of New Year’s Eve. which meant after a long nap, a scalding shower, and some hot wine, Kata and I were able to see the midnight firework celebration.

Or should I say, firework conflagration. 

In the Dorf, and other parts of Germany apparently, a festive fireworks display isn’t under the purview of the local authorities. It is a democratic affair. Everyone gathers in the city’s open spaces, especially along the river, with armfuls of fireworks that would be considered illegal in some countries.

As midnight approaches, everyone begins firing off their fireworks every which way. People are throwing around firecrackers, firing bottle rockets from their hands, and even setting off the hefty mortar-type fireworks. All of this is occurring in the crowds along the length of the Rhine and over the bridges spanning it.

The effect is part chaotic firework display, part Afghan wedding celebration – where they fire Kalashnikovs wildly enough into the air to attract the wrath of jet fighters – and mostly war zone. I’m not sure if anyone lost an eye or a finger, but we wouldn't know since no one would have heard their cries of pain over the commotion.

Oh, and this is all taking place in Germany, a country known for a bureaucracy that has a permit or paper form for for everything. The attitude towards fireworks is pretty laissez-faire here.

Once we got away from the crowds and their indiscriminate fireworks, we were able to stand back and appreciate the chaos, which is hard to find in not-so-chaotic Germany, but isn't so bad when you find it.

Cologne-ish Christmas Wishes

I am packing for my Christmas trip home. I am planning for that. I am helping Kata plan and pack for her trip to Budapest.

In times like these, when I am thinking about home in Canada, and home I just left in Budapest, I think about how I got here. Yeah, I came here for the job, but there are jobs in Canada too. But there are other reasons. For one thing, I'm seeing the world I live in.

In Cologne we saw a little more of that when we visited the cathedral. It’s an impressive man-made mountain of stone and stained glass in the middle of a city.  To say it’s stunning is an understatement. 

Before I get on my flight for a Canadian Christmas, I wanted to drop in a few photos in what will likely be my last post of 2015. They won't do the cathedral justice, but I hope they give you a bit of an idea.

Merry Christmas, everyone. See you in 2015.

Bicycle dudes in square between the train station and the Dom.

The Dom looks good during the day...

...And looks good at night.

We managed to snap a couple of spooky, gothic shots before we went home.