Over the past 10 or so years, we have lived in Missouri, Mississippi, Washington, Delaware, California, and Germany. With the exception of Delaware, none of the other residences was even in the same time zone as most of our family and friends. I take that back. Monterey was a scant 8 to 9-hour drive from my friend Joan who lived in San Diego. Getting back to the point, one might think that the move to Germany would take us as far away from those closest to us as any of our other relocations. Not so! One of the things I greatly looked forward to upon arriving in Berlin was visiting my good friend Carla. She and her husband Matt had been living in The Hague in the Netherlands since 2009 or so, and they recently added a new little friend for Annika. So, when I received an e-mail from Carla about 2 months ago saying that she was looking for company while Matt was away on business, I jumped at the chance. We settled on dates, and I booked a trip for the monster and I to go keep Carla and Gabriella company and give Neil a few days of peace and quiet.
Carla and I at our friend Diana's wedding in 2004. I am sparing both of us by omitting pictures from the earlier days of our friendship.
Carla and I have been friends since she and her family moved from New Jersey to Maryland in 1992-ish. She probably has a spreadsheet somewhere with the exact date and time of our meeting, but it has been a shade over 20 years, so I hope she'll give me a pass on the details. As with all friendships of that duration, there have been ebbs and flows in the frequency of our communication, but we have been pretty good at setting up Skype dates since she hopped the pond. Staying in touch in general as time goes on and people become busier is challenging. When you leave the primary timezone, you often have to take it upon yourself to keep the communication lines open, do the timezone math, and set up Skype/telephone appointments. Once you throw in children, jobs, and travel, this can be a daunting task. Nevertheless, I have been blessed to establish solid friendships with a few amazing people with whom the time elapsed between actual phone calls or, in rare instances, actually seeing one another is of no consequence. Carla is one of these people, and I could not wait to see her and meet little G. Also, I very much looked forward to having a face-to-face conversation with an adult without having to think about which version of "the" I should be using. Neil dropped us off at the airport, and we managed to survive the flight to Amsterdam, the train to Den Haag, the tram to Willem de Zwijgerlaan, and the short walk to Carla's door. Once again, upon arriving in another country where neither German nor English is the primary language, I found myself wavering between the two when attempting to communicate. Fortunately Dutch is kind of a mishmash of the two languages with a lot more "j"s, and I was able to buy a train ticket and pay for the tram without too much difficulty.
Annika making friends at Tegel.
Micky Maus Wunderhaus via iPad on the train.
It had been at least 3 years since we had seen each other, and for all anyone could probably tell, it had only been a few days. We had no plans, except to catch up as much as the little ones would let us and to take a picture in front of something that could be recognizable as being in The Hague. This was a request of my mom because unless a picture (or 17) are taken at any given event or get together, it didn't happen. I can't speak for Carla, but as much as I wanted to see the sights of her home city of the past 3 years, I would have been just as happy if we never left her house...and not just because it is well-decorated and cozy. It is nice to vacation with no pressure or schedule, especially when small children are involved.
Annika meeting Gabriella.
Moving in for a closer look.
After a relatively low key first afternoon, we decided to venture out for breakfast the next day, kiddos in tow. Carla knew of a great place on the beach of the North Sea, and I was thrilled to find that it was not crowded, and we could sit outside. Free space and a dearth of people to annoy are the main things I look for in places to eat out these days, and The Copacabana (what's more Dutch than that?) had both of these in spades! Annika could run around and we could eat/talk with relatively minimal screaming involved...no small feat. We continued our leisurely visit with a rented movie and easy pizza dinner that evening. Matt arrived home late that night/early the net day, so he was along for the fun for the rest of the weekend.
Exploring at The Copacabana.
First hammock ride.
Super-traditional Hague picture.
With Matt home and an extra set of hands to assist with strollers off and on the tram, we ventured into downtown to try to do some Hagueier things. We started off with a stop at an outdoor plaza to enjoy some fried snacks and beer...now we're getting Haguey. After that we walked around, caught part of an outdoor basketball tournament/slam dunk contest, and saw some sights. We took a few pictures so that we could prove that I had actually been there and not on a tropical island.
A super-Haguey fountain!
A Haguey snack bar. See? It says Holland right there.
Nothing more European/Haguey than a church and brick plaza.
On Sunday, it was time for me to head back to a land where I could at least clumsily communicate in the primary language, and so Annika and I navigated the tram/train/plane back to Berlin. Annika was sad to leave and made sure I knew it on the train. All things told though, it was an amazing weekend with a great friend, and our spawn were actually relatively well-behaved and cooperative with our plans. Hopefully Matt, Carla, and little G will be able to make the journey to Berlin before we all head back to the US.
Happy new friends!
Little G is amazing! She occasionally does things like go to sleep when swaddled after being fed. Seriously, though, how cute is she?
Surely there is not another language that is so slipshod and systemless, and so slippery and elusive to the grasp. One is washed about in it, hither and thither, in the most helpless way; and when at last he thinks he has captured a rule which offers firm ground to take a rest on amid the general rage and turmoil of the ten parts of speech, he turns over the page and reads, "Let the pupil make careful note of the following exceptions." He runs his eye down and finds that there are more exceptions to the rule than instances of it. -Mark Twain
I took German for 5 years in junior high and high school. Most people took Spanish or French, but I wanted to rebel, and so I chose German. As previously mentioned, I was a nerd, so taking the unconventional language and deciding to wear a lot of black in junior high was as close to rebellious as I could get. Nevertheless, when we found out that Neil had been selected as an Olmsted Scholar it was of some comfort to me that I had a background in the language of the country to which we would be moving. I was particularly relieved because at the time, I was about 6 months pregnant with Annika, and although I didn't totally know what to expect as a first-time mom, I knew that having an infant wasn't necessarily going to aid in the regularity of effectiveness of my studies. My last German class, however, was a mere 16 years ago, so it goes without saying that I had my work cut out for me.
I feel that I need to take a moment before I get into the meat of this account to say that I have been struggling a bit with what the proper tone should be. There are certainly plenty of amusing anecdotes which could probably fit well into a montage in the middle of a romantic comedy backed by a Hall and Oates or Spin Doctors song. There will be some of that, but there is going to be some hard truth as well. I am a person who deals primarily in reality and rational thought, and I don't use hyperbole or exaggerate for the purposes of proving points, so I'm not going to start doing that here. So here is my attempt to be objective in relating the joys and challenges of learning a language (see third bullet down).
Learning a new language, any new language, is difficult for anyone (except maybe small children and those with a proclivity for such things). Some are more difficult than others, and there are a myriad of things that make any language complicated. German has many grammar rules and tenses and different sentence structures and long words that are just a bunch of smaller words smashed together and sentences that continue the length of a paragraph with no punctuation or separation of thoughts, but with the exception of four new letters, it shares the alphabet with English and doesn't require learning to write or recognize an entirely different set of characters, and thus it falls somewhere in the middle in terms of difficulty. Here are some things that are true about the Senkowskis learning German, and I will address them in order:
Given any choice, Neil's language-learning takes priority as he has to take graduate-level classes which will be taught entirely in German.
Annika screams a lot.
1
When I took the language aptitude test at the beginning of this process, I scored well enough that I could have been in Neil's German class at DLI. We made a decision together before Annika was born that it would probably be too early to stick her in a daycare for 8+ hours/day, 5 days/week so that I could attempt to keep up in that class. To give a bit of an idea of what this class is/was like, Neil was in class from 8-4 Monday-Friday and spent between 2-4+ hours/night on those days studying. On the weekends, depending on when the nest test was, he would study between 6-10 hours/day. In addition, we fell asleep at night to the dulcet tones of German language podcasts...and occasionally a screaming Annika (more on that later). It is no joke, and the pressure on Neil to not only devote time to the class at DLI but also to the process (still ongoing, FYI) of getting admitted to school in Berlin was enormous. I recognized that, and as such I tried to limit the need for his involvement in the other day-to-day goings on as it pertained to Annika, cleaning, dog-walking, etc. I took Annika with me on my runs during the week and for the long ones on weekends (although to be honest, this served 2 purposes as this was one of the few things that kept her quiet). She came with me grocery shopping. We took Stella on extendo walks so that the house could be quiet for him to record a video for an assignment for school. Neil's job was learning German, and my job was trying to create a better environment to let him learn German. It was not ideal for either of us, but in the grand scheme of things, it would pay off, we hoped.
When we arrived in Monterey, Annika was not quite 2 months old. In those two months, she spent 4.5 weeks in our house in Delaware, about 10 days in my parents' basement in MD, a week or so at Neil's parents' house in Chicago, and a week in a Toyota Camry with Neil, myself, Uncle Leo (cat) and Stella (dog). I've heard that babies and young children like consistency and routine. This may explain some things, but I digress.
My view to the front en route to Monterey.
My view to the right en route to Monterey.
Had I enrolled at DLI, I would not have been able to give Neil the time he needed to get the most out of DLI, take care of the baby/house, and put the time into the class that I would have needed to. In addition, I felt guilty enough about the tumultuous first few weeks for Annika without the additional guilt that would have come with leaving her all day, every day. Looking back, this may or may not have been the right decision, but it was as right a decision as we could make at the time. Fortunately, Germans really want people to learn German, so there are a number of online options and podcasts for studying, and so I tried to take advantage of those as best I could. During the long walks with Stella, I would listen to podcasts. If Annika decided to grace me with a nap, I would try to work my way through some of the online courses.
When we got to Berlin, we got to looking for language classes for both of us. As it turns out, at most schools the language classes for all levels are from 0900-1300, give or take 15 minutes. As it also turns out, there is a severe shortage of childcare workers and slots in the Kindergartens, particularly for those under age 3. Therefore, Neil took his prep course for the TestDaF (proficiency test for applying to school), and I continued with my attempts at online and podcast learning. Being in the country and hearing the language constantly was definitely helpful, but I was definitely in need of a more intensive, baby-free environment to up the Deutsch ante. After some searching by Neil and a recommendation from his teacher, we found an evening class for me. It met Monday and Wednesday evenings, for a total of 3 hours/week...better than nothing, but still not quite enough to get me where I wanted to be. Neil continued with language classes in the morning and also found an adult swim team which practiced Tuesday and Friday evenings. This was awesome because it was apart from the days I had class. He also found an amazing 3-week class through the FU which combined language class in the mornings with Berlin city tours and events in the afternoons and often evenings as well. This on top of swimming meant I was spending a lot of time with Annika at the Kinderspielplatz (playground), which is, of yet, my main source of potential friends (of all ages) and practicing my German. To this point, I had been ok with my role of supportive wife and mother, but it started to wear on me seeing Neil go out and discover our new city without me. I tried to look at it as recon for tours/trips that we could do together, but really I was just getting antsy and feeling left out.
Annika making friends.
While I am thankful to have found the evening class tonight was the last night, and week after next, Neil and I will be taking classes at the Volkshochschule (community college), where he will have a morning class and I will go in the afternoons, 4 hours/day, 4 days/week. This will be good on a number of levels as I hope that the amount of time spent in class with this group of people who primarily live near here will lend itself to potential friendships for me and for Neil.
2
Babies cry. They eat, sleep, open and close their eyes at irregular intervals, and they cry. I know this now, and knew it long ago. By all accounts from Neil's family, he cried/screamed a lot. Prior to Annika joining us, I heard many people wish upon Neil a child similar to himself. I tried to remind these people that it was also me that they were wishing this on. I am certain that this had no bearing on the fact that Annika is also such a child, but I thought it was worth mentioning. The sleep deprivation aspect of having a child was not really a major concern for me because I've never slept all that much as it is. What I was wholly unprepared for was the volume and amount of daytime screaming that I would have to endure. You know how tiny newborn babies have that tiny newborn cry? Were it not for hearing it from other people's babies, I would not know that either. Annika has, since moment one of her life, screamed at a pitch and volume and with such ferocity that one would swear I was constantly peeling her skin off. That is, unless she was being moved...incessantly. Please note that I did not say held as she was never much of a fan of that, unless she was being carried, facing outward, and walked around. I have included a short video clip as exhibit A. I have many exhibits as I recorded her from time to time to compare and see if things were getting better or worse or louder or less screechy. I am only including this one, for the sanity of myself and anyone who is still reading at this point.
Exhibit A
Now, if you can, pretend that this goes on for a period of time between 45 minutes and 3 hours. It continues whether she is swaddled, unswaddled, fed, changed, bathed, talked to, sung to, etc. It happens every day, often multiple times a day unless said child is being walked/run around in a carrier or stroller. People would give me all sorts of friendly tips at the commissary or Target about what they did for their colicky babies. This only infuriated me because colic isn't a thing. It is the fibromyalgia of babies and a pediatrician's way to say, "Nothing is medically wrong with your child, so I am going to give you this label so I don't have to tell you that this is just the temperament of the child you have, so suck it up." I could go on at length on this topic, but I will leave it at that. One can also imagine that this makes studying German a less than viable option. Sometimes, during her "naps" I could go on the front porch in Monterey with headphones on and almost not be able to hear her if I tried really hard. Mostly, I just got used to it, but on some level, it just gradually wore me down until I could not concentrate on anything except trying to decide at night if it was the seals/sea lions echoing from the wharf or our child down the hall making the noise that awakened me.
Because I think we need a seal picture to lighten things up.
As she got older, the screaming changed a bit, but it remained in similar form should any activity/location persist for greater than 5-10 minutes. The thing is, this would be grating even if my only task was to be a stay-at-home mom/wife. I always found amusing the advice on every website/forum that recommended some version of ask your partner to take a shift while you go for a walk or go get coffee. This was a last resort in our house and one I tried to utilize only when I actually believed I would throw her out the window. Every night before we went to bed, one or the other of us would say, "She's one day older, so that's one day better, right?"
Now, there is a light beginning to shine in the darkness or whatever the hearing equivalent of that is..."a slight bit of less noise in the area of lots of noise" doesn't have quite the same ring to it. There is still screaming, but we have thick walls in our apartment, and I barely notice it. There is a bit of a routine developing. She has an actual room with actual curtains and friends at the Kinderzimmer at the gym. In 6 months from now, we will still be living here, thus marking the longest she has lived anywhere in her short life. One of these days, I will break through the harsh Berlin-iness (not a real word but definitely a real thing) of one of the moms at the park, and we will have coffee or a playdate (my goal is by Labor Day weekend). My German and Neil's will improve each day as it has been. This exploration of Germany, its people, and its language is fascinating, and this is truly a once in a lifetime experience. However, I will compare the task of learning a language with that of raising a child. It will be a lifelong process with ups and downs, joys and frustrations. I will not, as I've been instructed by several annoying statuses on Facebook, cherish every moment. I will take in every bit I can and let it make me a better person, a better mother, and a better citizen of the world.
If the title of this entry was accurate, then this would be the shortest one yet because the contents would read as follows:
It could not have gone worse.
That isn't entirely true. The car could have been horribly damaged. We could have not been able to pick up the car. We could not even have a car to pick up. I could have no arms and one leg. We could all be dead. There...bright side officially looked on. We are also nearing the point on the timeline of our life here in Germany when our "quick shipment" will be arriving. At this point, it has only been 60 days since the goods were picked up with the promise of arriving in "no more than 30 days." So, after our trip to Poland, having slept in a proper bed for 3 nights, we have now decided that we will make the car pick-up trip into a mini SW-ish Germany tour of other actual beds/mattresses. This is where we find our weary travelers.
Fresh off our Poland trip and with our clothes freshly laundered, we set out to retrieve the trusty Toyota Camry from Wiesbaden Army Airfield. We designed the trip such that Neil and I could take the driver's license class and test in the morning while Annika was cared-for at the Wiesbaden CDC (no thanks to Valorie Johnson) and pick the car up immediately after. Neil did some research which led us to believe that, once licensed-drivers, the process of getting the car would take 90-120 minutes. This seemed reasonable which should have been our first clue that something was amiss. I had been fighting a sinus infection/cold/sore throat since we arrived in Berlin, and Neil had picked it up as well. Naturally, since Annika had survived almost 6 weeks with me and not gotten sick, she developed a fever, cough, and runny nose the morning caught the train to Wiesbaden. I don't have to tell you that she didn't miraculously recover by the next day and as such was not able to attend the CDC, thereby making it impossible for me to take the class/test. Since we had to check out of our hotel room that morning, that left sick me with a sick baby to wander around Wiesbaden Army Airfield from approximately 0700-1230. Fortunately, we had purchased a cheap stroller the previous week, so I didn't have to physically carry her, and I can pretty much give directions to anywhere on the post from anywhere on the post. At least it wasn't raining.
Neil passed the licensing test, and we caught the bus to the car pick-up area. Annika loves being held captive for long periods of time, so she was quiet as a mouse for the entirety of the bus ride as she had been all morning. No one shot death glares at me, and I didn't feel at all like the worst mother ever for having a sick child and nowhere to shelter her/allow her to nap (because she naps like an angel). It didn't take 4 hours, 2.5 of which I spent walking in circles around the parking lot with a child who screamed for 1 of those hours. The people who worked there didn't work at a painfully slow pace because they are government employees who take pride in their jobs and fear that if they don't work in an efficient and thorough manner giving attention to good customer service, they may be made redundant. There wasn't a man whose car wasn't passing inspection who yelled at the German inspection workers and then at Neil for suggesting that said inspection workers may not be inclined to allow his car to pass inspection if the yelling continued. We didn't hit a big Stau (German for traffic jam) just after leaving Wiesbaden en route to Heidelberg. It was an amazing day...a tribute to the outstanding customer service provided by government workers everywhere. Did I mention the part where the lady at the health clinic yelled at me? It was great!
Annika loved Wiesbaden.
Thankfully, Neil was able to secure me a slot to take the driver's license test at Ramstein AFB a few days later, so all was not lost. In the meantime we headed to Heidelberg to relax for a few days. I had always heard how beautiful it was there, but it was amazing. I had not been to Europe before Neil and I came here on our house-hunting trip in February. I love living in Berlin. It is a metropolitan, bustling city, but it lacks some of the old country charms that one thinks about when thinking about living in Germany. Heidelberg, on the other hand, is the quintessential German city. It has a picturesque downtown main street market area, an old castle, an old bridge, and a lovely path to walk along the Neckar River. Here are some nice German-looking pictures.
The Old Bridge
Bridge blasted by German troops in 1945 and the rebuilt.
Gate of the old bridge.
Family fun at Schloss Heidelberg
Happy after a nap during the castle tour.
Solar-powered boat cruise on the Neckar River.
Capri Suns...not just for adults.
We bid farewell to Heidelberg and headed to Ramstein so that I could get my German driver's license. I will spare you the details of the angry government worker demanding an office phone number for Neil, who has no office and let you know that I passed the test. Sadly, the woman who never stopped talking and asking stupid questions during the class did not pass. She was quick to loudly inform everyone outside of the classroom that she failed and that she has a Master's degree..about 15 times. Apparently not in German driving lady, so zip it. At Ramstein, we also enjoyed a lovely dinner at the Manning house...a nice break from the fear of eating out with our ever-screaming monster. It was also nice to see familiar faces and get a few living in Germany tips. After a quick stop at the commissary for some staples and a trip to the famous/infamous New York Döner, we headed to Weimar for a day to split up the return trip to Berlin.
Annika and Daddy sharing aDöner.
After literally years of hearing about this place, my first NY Döner.
Weimar was a bit of a last-minute addition to the trip, and we were pleasantly surprised by all the town had to offer. From the beautiful park in the middle of town to the Soviet cemetery from WWII to the awesome and creepy underground bunker, it is a history-rich city, and we will definitely return because there was too much to see in a day.
Potato souffle.
In the park: Lift up your gaze and pause.
View when you lift up your gaze.
Soviet cemetery.
Soviet cemetery.
Soviet cemetery.
In the underground bunker, UNDER the Soviet cemetery.
Before we left Weimar to head back to Berlin, we decided to stop at Buchenwald. It is just on the outskirts of Weimar and was one of the largest concentration camps on German soil. It was primarily a work/forced-labor camp for Jews, gypsies, homosexuals, POWs, Freemasons, and anyone else who didn't fall in line. Though crowded with tourists, it was eerily quiet, and one could only hear the footsteps of other tourists on the gravel of the grounds...and Annika whenever she stopped moving in her stroller for more than 5 seconds. I took few pictures because, whether it was or not, it seemed inappropriate. Buchenwald was one of the first concentration camps liberated by US troops in April of 1945. They arrived at 3:15 PM, which is the time that remains on the clock at the gate of Buchenwald to this day.
Looking into the grounds of Buchenwald.
The gate that every inmate passed through. Translates: To each his own. Figuratively in German, "Everyone gets what he deserves."
Clock atop the gate viewed from inside the camp.
Site of a mass grave uncovered at Buchenwald, now part of the memorial outside of the camp.
We headed back to Berlin from Buchenwald, happy to be alive, with all of our limbs and back to hopefully get our first shipment of things delivered. As one last kick in the pants, we hit a major Stau in the middle of nowhere for no apparent reason where we literally sat motionless for about 45 minutes. Apparently this kind of thing is standard on any of the Autobahns. While it is nice to have the car for trips to Ikea and to buy things like a grill, we may end up using the train more often than previously thought.
Future topics to get excited about:
A trip to Den Haag
My attempts to learn German with a child who loves screaming and not napping
German playgrounds...they still have sand and mulch!
A long-time dream of mine was realized on June 10, 2012 when Neil and I became members of the Berlin Zoo. I have always wanted to be a member of a zoo or aquarium or other such animal-related visiting grounds. Let's face it, I like being part of a club, regardless of the level of actual exclusivity of said club. I don't know if this stems from the fact that I was what you might call "a nerd" in my younger years (before there was such a thing as nerd-chic...not that I would have been that either) and feel a need to belong to a group of people or not, but I was only slightly less excited when I became a Costco member...ahem, Executive Costco member.
Front of ZooCard.
Back of ZooCard.
But I digress. I have been waiting for Annika to be old enough to appreciate the zoo. Long before Annika was even a thought in my head, I was excited for a hypothetical child with whom I could go to the zoo because Neil hates the zoo. As far as he is concerned, the animals smell, the zoo-goers smell, and everything is too expensive. Fortunately, after I threatened to take Annika to the zoo enough times that the summative cost of admissions would surpass that of the year pass, he caved and got one for himself as well. Plus, with our Jahreskarte we also get 50% off aquarium admission and 10% off the still-too-expensive food. Additionally, with the mild summer we've been having here, the few times we've gone the stink factor has been minimal. Also, it's a super-quick bus ride.
I must say that the first time we went, Annika was not so much into the animals as the other kids and trees and leaves. The second time we went about a month later, she was able to look beyond the shrubbery around the elephant pen and actually see that there was a giant animal there. We've now been to the zoo 5 times (one more visit and the pass has paid for itself!), and I have to say I couldn't be happier. There is a wide variety of animals and exhibits, and most of these exhibits are functional AND have actual animals in them. We even caught a polar bear feeding (another dream of mine...I like to have attainable dreams). However, far and away the best part of the zoo is the petting zoo area. Not so much for Neil and I...I mean, it's really just different kinds of goats...but Annika loves it! For 0,10€ you get a handful of feed and a murder of goats at your feet. I am not sure what you call a group of goats (probably something normal like a herd), but I like that a group of crows is a murder, and these goats can be a tad aggressive when vying for a handful of dry goat feed pellets.
I really thought I had more to say about the zoo, but I think that's pretty much it. Here are a few pictures and videos of cute zoo things.
The majority of our travel during our first year here will be in/to countries where German is the primary language. Therefore, our first trip out of Berlin was to Poznań, Poland. The trip served multiple purposes which I have touched on before but will restate here.
We really needed to sleep in a bed with a mattress not 3/4 filled with air.
It's Euro 2012 time here, and we are a 3-hour train ride away from the most amazing football/soccer/fußball being played in the world (sorry Landon Donovan and MLS).
Neil's family is Polish, in case the last name wasn't a giveaway. (This is somewhat up for debate as his grandfather may or may not be from the Ukraine and may or may not have had to flee to Poland at some point. I hope to explore this further while we are over here).
Since we have no car, we began our exploration of the European rail system. the last and only time I rode on a train was the Summer of 1989 from DC to NYC. In America, the train is slow and expensive, and (apart from the Boston-NYC-Philly-DC corridor), kind of creepy. I mean really, why are those people not flying? All kidding aside, I have to say that train travel is kind of luxurious. There is plenty of space between seats, no seatbelt sign, and no TSA line. A conversation on safety and the ability to travel across borders with no checking of identification or baggage could be had here, but let's face it, that is boring. Annika quickly took over my seat, and we embarked on our journey to Poland.
Our chariot to Poznań.
Annika in my seat.
Annika doing some serious reading.
Daddy doing some serious reading.
So, we arrived in Poznań Sunday afternoon and quickly tried to decide whether it was more difficult to understand Polish people speaking Polish or Irish people speaking English. I joke, but as the Irish became/continued to be drunk, they could have been speaking Polish for all we knew Nevertheless, we made our way to the bus and to our hotel. It was a charming little Polish hotel, and if anyone is ever in Poznań, I highly recommend Hotel Mat's. It was less than a mile from the stadium and a quick bus to downtown. There were a lot of Irish fans staying there, and we figured it must have been a tour group or something.
After regrouping a bit and an unsuccessful attempt at a nap, we decided to head down to the Euro 2012 Fan Zone and see what there was to do. We walked through a beautiful downtown area where there was a huge monument with a plaque saying something in Irish or Polish about Pope John Paul II. I took pictures and looked up later to find that it was a monument to the first uprising in Poland against communism which took place in Poznań in 1956. Multiple other uprisings and political demonstrations were added to the monument at later dates. The plaque, I researched later, was to commemorate JP2's visit to Poznań in 1997. They really love JP2 in Poland.
The Fan Zone was loud with expensive beer, but we came and we saw, and we took an obligatory picture before heading into the main square to find a spot to eat. On the way, we encountered hoards of Irish fans and a smattering of Italian fans. It was no matter, as everyone was in good spirits and enjoying the Euro 2012 atmosphere. We found an open outdoor table (no small feat on the eve of a game in a town not normally so flooded with Irish football fans), and we had a lovely meal of pierogi and meat. Annika embraced her roots and took to everything we offered her. After dinner, we headed back to the hotel to rest up for the big game the next day.
Fan Zone...obvs.
Me and an Irish fan...obvs.
Pierogi sampler platter with a grabby hand.
We woke up Monday and basically killed time riding the public transportation of Poznań and exploring the city. This included a visit to the oldest cathedral in Poland, Archcathedral Basilica of Saint Peter and Saint Paul. It was a nice cold building on a hot day and offered a look at numerous building styles and materials used over time and various renovations. When we had sufficiently cooled ourselves/Annika got to loud for the echoey old church, we headed back to get ready for the game.
Basement of the cathedral. 2 points if you can find the skull.
I have to say, I was briefly hesitant to don our pro-Italy shirts to head to the game as Poznań was the site of the first real riots of the tournament the previous week and 92% of everyone we saw was for Ireland. However, all was well as everyone was basically drunk and excited to watch some football.
En route to the game.
A sea of Irish fans.
Enjoying the antics of the other fans.
Euro 2012 trip summed up in one joyous, amazing picture.
Fortunately, upon arriving at the game, we found our seats to be in the Italian section. This was super fun in general and specifically during the anthems. In case you haven't checked it out, Italy has what I believe to be the greatest pre-game anthem out there. I love me some America, but watch this and tell me that this anthem doesn't rock...particularly as interpreted by Gianluigi Buffon, the Italian goalkeeper. It should also be noted (and can be faintly heard) that during the instrumental intro, all of the Italians sing along in a chorus of ba-ba-da-bas...it's the best.
To be surrounded by real football fans during a major championship is something to behold if you are a football fan. For those of you who don't remember, Italy won the game, and it was capped off by a goalazzo by Mario Balotelli. To be present for a goal like that when a group of thousands rises and jumps and cheers as one giant organism is one of the greatest things in all of sport.
On our way out of the game, I was approached by a red-headed drunk Irish man who put his arm around me, told me that Annika was beautiful, and wished Gli Azzurri well against Spain. I thanked him, gave him a hug, and commended him for the tremendous spirit of all of the Irish fans we had encountered over the course of the weekend. We got back to the hotel just ahead of a thunderstorm and enjoyed one last night on a mattress before returning to Aerobed hell. I've said it once, I'll say it again. I love sports.
