I’ve been feeling a bit melancholy lately even with all the daily items on my ‘to do’ list. I’m melancholy for something I never thought I would be. I spent the last three and half years trying to leave Germany and return to America and now that I have returned I find myself a month later missing my foreign home.
I miss the pedestrian center of the city where every café and restaurant has outdoor tables for eating and drinking and people watching. Even Starbucks hauled out the thick red wool blankets in winter so you could sit outside and still enjoy that feeling of being able to reach out to anyone who passed by.
I miss dinner at Roses and ordering a bottle of wine and crostinis and a plate of pasta. The lively conversation with Piano Girl and the laughter that always accompanied any outing making walking in heels on cobblestones worth all the effort.
I miss the small streets by the Italian Place on the River, the restaurant that we still don’t know the name of. The streets were so small that if another car was coming you’d have to pull up on what little sidewalk there was in order to let them past.
I miss flying down the autobahn in my little German car at 140 km an hour listening to Muse and Coldplay. It didn’t matter where the destination was getting there really was half the fun.
I miss Altenahr and my local winery that made the best Riesling around. I’ll miss the harvest this year and I won’t get to drive through the valley and see the plump juicy grapes on the vines clinging to the hillside. The smell in the valley always lingered sweet and fragrant.
I miss the architecture and the oldness of the cities and buildings, the uniqueness that makes it a great destination for tourists.
I miss my beloved Kolsch and the biergarten on Friday nights where there was nothing but good conversation, good beer and watching the boats pass by on the Rhine.
I even miss my non-English speaking crazy landlady Frau L. Who even though she drove like Mario Andretti and we never understood half of what we might have wanted to say to each other, she was the nicest landlady I will ever come across.
I miss my house with all of its quirky German foibles. I even miss Cat Lady who walked her cat down our street twice a day on a leash.
I miss Hallo Pizza, the only place I know that delivers your pizza in a Smart car.
I miss my husband who’s still half way around the world for five more months.
It’s startling to me to realize that while Germany I did not get along at times I really did come to see how wonderful it was in hindsight. All the while I was fighting it it was charming me and drawing me in.
I miss you Germany.