Trip Trickle 6

Music is this Josh Ritter song. Breathe that in.

A certain highlight of my trip was going out one evening to a pub in Crouch End, London, all by my little Bobbi self. I went to hear Jill Barber, a Canadian singer songwriter, who was in town. The evening nearly blew my CBC tshirt off. I met Jill before the show, she invited me to come hang out with her and her people, she put me on her guest list, I met some lovely London blokes who told me about pockets of urban poverty and how different London is from the rest of England. I dig that stuff, all that beautiful stuff.


Jill Barber, Les Cooper her guitarist, and me

Trip Trickle 5

THE SHOES








There is something
about seeing
your very own feet
wrapped up in
your very own shoes
that reminds you that
you have place
that place matters
that you and place
are friends.

Trip Trickle 4

THE FOOD AND DRINK

I love to eat and drink at home; I love to eat and drink away from home. Here are some of those moments from my trip.


Sara, Wendy, and I caught up in a Mayday "riot" in Berlin.


Breakfast in Berlin at an outdoor cafe.


Ron Telesky "couch potato" pizza covered in arugula (maybe) and chili maple syrup.


Sara and I joining the masses of Berlin with a scoop of gelato.


Real German food at the really, really old pub by Wendy's place in Berlin.


Coffee! I might have had about 50 cappuccinos in my journey. *Note that the statues outside of the Franz Kafka museum in this Prague square are actually robots. You can text them a message and they'll pee that message into a map/pond the shape of a map of Czech.


Sara, Lisa, and I spent a few hours at this pub in Oxford. It is famous for being the haunt of the Inklings from 1939-1962.

Trip Trickle 3

THE WRITING ON THE WALL

Writing on the wall can be spooky.

There is a story in the Old Testament (Daniel 5) about a heavenly warning that arrives at King Belshazzar’s party in the form of cryptic writing on the wall. Daniel is brought in to interpret the writing. It basically sets out this message to the irreverent Belshazzar: you’re screwed.

Writing on the wall can seem like a message of warning and ruin, especially when you’ve been an idiot and God wants to get your attention. But, then there is another kind of writing on the wall: graffiti. It’s the kind that starts here on earth, rather than in the heavens, and seems more like a cry directed upward than a curse coming down.

On my trip to Europe I spied on all sorts of graffiti.


An old building. Berlin.


My name in Berlin.


Beauty and dandelions in Berlin.


Can you feel it? Berlin.


The Berlin Wall. East Side Gallery.


More of the Berlin Wall. East Side Gallery.


The illusive Banksy. London.


Banksy. This one was painted just a month ago. London.

I think this earth-bound writing on the wall sprays out a message that reads more like this:

Hey. We’re here.
Hey. Things aren’t as they should be.
Hey. I’m feeling a bit broken.
Hey. I’m hoping for a better world.
Hey.

This writing on the wall has been heard; there are traces of this everywhere. It is sprayed again and again. It has not fallen on blind eyes.

PS This is my 100th blog post! Yikes.

Trip Trickle 2

some-thoughts-and-likely-some-pictures-everyday-for-the-
rest-of-the-month-of-May//my trip to Europe with my friend Sara

THE BIRTHDAY

This trip was inspired by my 30th birthday. Indeed, I'm now 30. Here are some pics of the night we celebrated in Berlin. The people in the celebration: Sara, her sister Wendy, Wendy's flatmate Ben, Ben's dad visiting from Naniamo, and finally Ben and Wendy's boss and his friend.


Pizza and wine at a punk pizza place by the canal.


Sara and I at a lovely little downstairs pub just around the corner from Ron Telesky's Canadian Pizza.


Yes. It was this fun.


Wendy's boss Ole treated us to some fine German sparkling wines. We drank up appreciatively, of course.

Trip Trickle

I took a trip to three incredible cities for my 30th birthday: Berlin, Prague, and London. I've decided to share some-thoughts-and-likely-some-pictures-everyday-for-the-
rest-of-the-month-of-May to let you in on that journey.

I didn't do much blogging while I was away because I honestly enjoyed the freedom of disappearing. But now, I'm unleashing some blog goodness for my faithful friends who actually read this madness.

I welcome your comments and in that, your place in my invaluable and far-reaching community. I invite you to enter into the conversation that takes place in the wake of a person's return home from a far away place.

To begin . . .

THE PEOPLE


This is my amazing friend Sara who took this trip with me. We are Briercrest College buddies; we shared a bathroom my first year. Sara lives in Calgary. She is so lovely. This picture is the two of us early one morning in Berlin outside the Reichstag.


Our first destination was Berlin because Sara's sister Wendy lives there. I know Wendy because she lives in East Vancouver when she isn't living abroad. This is the three of us at Brandenburg Gate. I love these women!


Sara and I stayed with Wendy and her friend Ben who is also from Vancouver. We liked to affectionately call them "Bendy." They were very gracious to let us stay with them and eat all their Nutella every morning.


This is a hot pic of Wendy and I at Potsdam. Some "old shit" is behind us, as Wendy would say.


Skipping ahead to our last city, London. Sara was able to catch up with her old friends Lisa and Brett. Through Sara's reconnections, I made some new friends. We spent our last evening with Lisa and Brett at The Troubadour in London.

Stay tuned to the BS blog for more . . . tomorrow.

I HATE GOOD-BYES

I am getting ready to say good-bye to Berlin (and hello to Prague). I don't think I'm a bounce around kind of traveler. I start getting to know a city like I get to know a person. And then, I start missing it before I've even had to say good-bye.

Berlin has captured me. It's a city with a complicated story, rich in history, coloured in varying shades of grey. It's a city you can't box up and neatly enjoy or understand. It's a city rebuilt and rebuilding. I love the the invitations it extends to have a beer in the street, to sit on a piece of grass by the canal and enjoy your people, to get on a bike (any old bike) and to ride it (slow or fast, with or without a helmet [likely without!!]), to have a cappuccino at a cafe . . .

My lovely friend Jess gave me a book for this trip: A Restless Soul. It's a collection of Henri Nouwen's travel writings. Nouwen wrote these words after his time in Berlin:

It was history coming alive. I deeply feel my own responsibility. It does make a difference how I live my life. It does make a difference where I go, with whom I speak, and what I write. Yes, my life is very short and seems so insignificant in the context of our immense universe. But seeing what I saw today and hearing what I heard today, I experience a great desire to live with as much integrity, as much clarity, and as much courage as I can.

Thanks Henri. Thanks Berlin.