The lakes of Brandenburg (and Mecklenburg)
The following morning we re-boarded the train with our bikes and headed north from Berlin for a couple of hours. The quiet railway station where we came off the train immediately reminded me of the rural railway stations outside St Petersburg, at least of the sanitized and nostalgic version that remained in my imagination. Mainly, of course, it was the surrounding forest, which varied from pine to birch, thick to sunny, and grassy to mossy in exatly the way I remember the forests of my childhood did. The buildings were much nicer and the roads, well, it was quite an insult to call them by the same name as the Russian variety.
Still, the surrounding nature made this country seem more like home than any place I have visited in the USA. Many of my most memorable childhood days were spent wandering forests exactly like this, either collecting berries and mushrooms or simply walking, biking, or cross-country skiing. To me, these forests are so much more alive and vibrant than the ones further south, whether in Germany, Spain or the USA. Here, I know what type of mushroom grows in which environment, and each combination of trees, moss and sunlight brings with it unmistakeably unique sensations and memories. By comparison, in the forests of Virginia or Ohio I see only a bunch of dead leaves.
Riding the perfectly marked and usually paved bike paths in this part of Germany I experienced a much stronger sense of nostalgia than on my trip back to Russia because here only the pleasant memories were awakened.
We rode on the quiet roads, which zig-zagged and criss-crossed each other in a wonderfully rich and impeccably signed network comprised of small highways, minor roads, and forest tracks. Each and every fork in the road was marked with the names of the places to which they lead and the distance to each place. We had a couple of detailed cycling maps with us, and so had an almost unlimited range of trails we could follow. Because of the number of quiet scenic paths, it was a paradise for cyclists.
The villages we passed were far less ancient or exotic than the ones we saw in Thuringen, but had a more familiar and homy feel. There were no castles, but a couple of the larger towns had palaces where the local nobility used to spend their summers. Unfortunately every single palace we saw was under renovation, so we limited ourselves to a brief tour of the grounds.
The lakes were green and some had extremely clear water, so naturally we stopped to cool down in them a couple of times, swimming the only way the locals appeared to recognize -- nude. We even passed a couple of nudist campsites, designated by the letters FKK, which stands for Free Body Culture in German. Pictures to come. (just kidding, you wish!).
Still, the surrounding nature made this country seem more like home than any place I have visited in the USA. Many of my most memorable childhood days were spent wandering forests exactly like this, either collecting berries and mushrooms or simply walking, biking, or cross-country skiing. To me, these forests are so much more alive and vibrant than the ones further south, whether in Germany, Spain or the USA. Here, I know what type of mushroom grows in which environment, and each combination of trees, moss and sunlight brings with it unmistakeably unique sensations and memories. By comparison, in the forests of Virginia or Ohio I see only a bunch of dead leaves.
Riding the perfectly marked and usually paved bike paths in this part of Germany I experienced a much stronger sense of nostalgia than on my trip back to Russia because here only the pleasant memories were awakened.
We rode on the quiet roads, which zig-zagged and criss-crossed each other in a wonderfully rich and impeccably signed network comprised of small highways, minor roads, and forest tracks. Each and every fork in the road was marked with the names of the places to which they lead and the distance to each place. We had a couple of detailed cycling maps with us, and so had an almost unlimited range of trails we could follow. Because of the number of quiet scenic paths, it was a paradise for cyclists.
The villages we passed were far less ancient or exotic than the ones we saw in Thuringen, but had a more familiar and homy feel. There were no castles, but a couple of the larger towns had palaces where the local nobility used to spend their summers. Unfortunately every single palace we saw was under renovation, so we limited ourselves to a brief tour of the grounds.
The lakes were green and some had extremely clear water, so naturally we stopped to cool down in them a couple of times, swimming the only way the locals appeared to recognize -- nude. We even passed a couple of nudist campsites, designated by the letters FKK, which stands for Free Body Culture in German. Pictures to come. (just kidding, you wish!).
posted by Dmitri Evseev at 9:00 PM
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