Here are a few photos of a museum in Luneburg, crazy train travel on a 49Euro ticket throughout the country, and sights in Lubeck, famous for its marzipan (I bought 2 lbs!)

Sammlung Henning J. Claassen

This was a beautiful gallery on the outskirts of Luneburg with a modern art collection with some examples shown here.

Train Travel in Germany

I somehow managed to snatch an online ticket for the month of September for only 49 euros! Crowds were intense over the weekend, but much saner during the rest of the week.

Lubeck

A Last Look at Hamburg

A Newly Found Friend

Lively. Vivacious. Warm and friendly. Crazy. These are words that describe my new best friend.

It all started with a lost wallet. That is another story to be told, but let’s take this moment to a better place.

The Elbphilharmonie in Hamburg is the blessing in disguise. I had just taken my place in 16S (as in 16^thfloor), Row 4, Seat 18 in the rafters at the sold-out concert. Soon thereafter, Annemarie arrived and greeted me as she sat down in Seat 19. We exchanged pleasantries and discovered that we had purchased tickets the hour before from the same person selling tickets outside the concert hall. 

A third and fourth person appeared to claim their seats, and we all happily shared stories about how clever we were in snatching our tickets. Anne Sophie Mutter, the soloist, was a world-class violinist about to perform with a dozen other virtuosi string musicians. 

After the exhilarating performance, I learned that Annemarie had worked in Chicago for 14 years. She was a marketing pro in the shipping business and was immersed in her life and work. Her warmth and charm reminded me of the inimitable friendliness of those from the Midwest. Growing up on a small farming village outside of Munich with four brothers, Annemarie had learned how to stand up for herself. She attributes her self-reliance and independent nature to her family relationships.

After the performance, Annemarie convinced me to visit her the next day in Luneburg, where she lived. I used my 49-euro, contactless monthly ticket to take the train there, a short hour-long trip outside of Hamburg. She met me and escorted me to her apartment, a mere five-minute walk from the train station. Her beautiful apartment was impeccably decorated with white carpeting and walls, soft modern furnishings, a few carefully chosen hand-crafted antiques and splashes of red here and there. 

Picture windows framed a soothing garden outside, with greenery as far as the eye could see trailing down to a river beyond. A window cracked open allowed the breeze from the recent shower to waft inside. I felt so lucky to be invited into this luxurious German home! After Annemarie explained her work in the States, she described her humble upbringing. Her family grew hops for the breweries in Munich. 

The two upper floors of her huge 20-room farmhouse were used to store and process grain. During harvest time, workers would load and hoist the hops that had been thrashed from the stalks to the top floor. The kernels would be poured into huge canvas sacks that were suspended by a hole on the bottom of the upper floor. They were then pressed into the sack while hanging down to the floor below. Using their feet, workers would then tamp and stamp the kernels inside the sacks to compress and leave them to dry.

On our walk through the quaint town of Lueneburg, Annemarie stopped to show me one of the random wild hops’ vines. A plump kernel at the upper tips of the plant looks like a giant white raspberry. Annemarie broke it open to show me what it looks like inside. She then closed her eyes and took a deep whiff. Her face broke into a huge smile. It immediately brought her back to her childhood, and in a moment she took me there with her.

I too, had suddenly flown to this fairy-tale town to Southern Bavaria. I had often seen lush green fields and the tidy plots of German farmland. I instantly connected to the description of her humble beginnings. They reminded me of my mother’s childhood in rural China.  I. too, closed my eyes and allowed the thought to take me there.There were many other stories that Annemarie told me about growing up in Germany and living in the States.

After sharing wine, glorious concerts, and even a special overnight at her lovely home, I treasured this story about her childhood. We connected in many ways. While names of the farm families change, Moarhofer continues. I would love to visit there one day. Annemarie’s vivid description brought the photo to life, and her friendship has given me the reason for investing in the German language.