Even when you think it’s a dull day in Berlin, with unending showers, and no movement on the streets, all you have to do is go out for a walk, and you’ll come across something out of the ordinary for sure. That’s just how the city is, there’s always some exhibition to go to, some Messe to meet friends at, some concert to attend or some new restaurant waiting to be discovered.
Last evening we took a walk along the Reichstagufer, who would have imagined what we’d find there: on one side of the river the Marie-Elisabeth-Lüders-Haus, covered in fragmented projections depicting a documentary about the history of the Reichstag, on the other side of the river people sitting on stairs and enjoying the show. Really nice atmosphere, next time you don’t know what to do in Berlin, grab same friends, some beer and enjoy a summer evening on the river bank.
The documentary runs between 29.06.- 03.10.2015, twice every evening, starting at 20:30. Entry is free. You can read more about it here.
We spent the last night in Lisbon wandering on the streets, trying to tick few more things off our must see list. At about 2am we revisited miradouro de São Pedro de Alcântara, where two nights before we had discovered a cheerful band of trumpeters playing songs of Fanfara Ciocârlia. At about 6am we began packing. At 7:40 we were running through the airport, fearing not to miss the flight (or maybe the contrary). Past 8am we said goodbye to Lisbon, and one hour later hello to Porto.
After studying your language and history for over 3 years, we finally meet, I greeted Lisbon from the airplane window. I know about all your Afonsos, Herniques, and all your mighty sailors. I’ve learnt to twist verbs through all the conjunctives, and combine them in próclises, ênclises and, most difficult of all, mesóclises. I can manage reading Portuguese texts and, If I’m not shy, I can even say a few words. Based on this, I expected to find in Lisbon a familiar language spread across hills, castles and old houses, all carrying the smell of fish. Besides my teacher I hadn’t met anyone from Portugal, and even though she talked about the city quite a few times, very little stuck with us. Here are a few things a language class won’t tell you about a Lisbon.
||nox / noctem
Why it’s this way no one knows, and there’s not a lot of scientific literature on this matter either. Some say it’s a plain coincidence. Another theory states that the similarity between the two words is a characteristic shared between Indo-European languages, though each rule comes with exceptions. Lithuanian, Russian (and many other Slavic languages) are missing from the list. From the constructed PIE roots okto (eight) and nekwt (night), the two words may have later emerged later in Proto-Germanic languages as ahto and nakht, and in Latin as octo and nox/noctem… and from here on forming all the variations listed above. Proceeding to the number that comes after eight, we find a new peculiarity: Continue reading
I like to dream about Lisbon, it’s easier when you are there.
Gear: Olympus XA + Kodak VR Plus 200
Sunday morning we were already in Hauptbahnhof Berlin, on platform 6, with our bikes good to go, and backpacks stuffed with nuts, carrots, sandwiches and cereal bars – all in all, prepared for a new adventure. The forecast announced unstable weather, some rain ahead, but why stop here? In the worst scenario we would have to pedal our way towards the first Gasthaus, restaurant or train station or at least a bus stop that could provide shelter.
So off we went, at 10:09 the train left us in Oranienburg, a small town in Brandenburg, located north-east of Berlin, on the cycle way to Copenhagen. From here on our target was a 45 km route, known also as the Löwenberger-Land-Radweg. Our end destination: Lindow. The GPS was crucial in the beginning as there were no signs pointing to the cycling road. Our journey began with a tour around the train station in Oranienburg, and a turn towards Lehnitzsee. Right there it happened: for the first time our wheels made contact with a BIKE ROAD, not just stripes of paint, a slice of some pathway or a piece of asphalt, shared with all the cars.