156 - On A Whim With Grimm and Kim (Bremen, Germany)
BREMEN WAS AS UNLIKELY A DESTINATION AS COPENHAGEN on my disparate world itinerary. Another country. Another ex. This one wanted to see me again. Bonus. I met Kim in Bali, where she was doing an internship at a boutique hotel in Ubud. The owner was an Austrian national and, as it were, a raging asshole of a bastard bitch. Kim and I parted as friends. My visa was up, so it was time to move on. Turns out, she didn’t make it through the year, as the situation with the aforementioned shithead became untenable. We stayed in touch. When I veered into Europe, I suggested a reunion. She was receptive, and I was receptive to her reception.
Bremen is an excellent place to do not much at all, and that’s what I did. Shall I let the Lonely Planet do the describing? Yes. Yes, I shall:
Bremen, one of Germany’s three city-states (along with Berlin and Hamburg), is known for being among the country’s most outward-looking and hospitable places, with a vibe that strikes a good balance between style, earthiness and good living. Nature is never far away here, but Bremen is better known for its fairy-tale character, unique Expressionist quarter and one of Germany’s most exciting football teams. It's also one of Europe's leaders in science and technology, home to the Airbus Defence and Space headquarters and a major Mercedes Benz plant.
More populous than Hanover, Bremen scrapes in as Germany’s 11th largest city, but feels quite the contrary, offering a relaxed, unhurried lifestyle. Closer inspection reveals some vibrant districts with fine restaurants and fun bars, a lively entertainment calendar, a selection of excellent museums and a beautiful Altstadt (old town).
I needed some psychological R&R. With a place to crash and a borrowed bicycle, I had free rein in this quaint city at the mouth of the Weser River. My chosen form of sloth was sipping coffee in Marktplatz to the tune of accordion/guitar street music while engaging in a favorite past-time: people watching. In between appointments at Starbucks (I justified my visits to this paradigm of American capitalistic globalism by free Wi-Fi), I did a bit of shopping (it was time for new Underoos) and some aimless cycling through the town center. Relaxation and rejuvenation. Thank you, sir, I’ll have another. The frequent rain did little to blunt my blissful existence. Kim’s prowess in the kitchen made for a delightful end-of-day punctuation, a delicious repast between friends.
The Brothers Grimm wrote a fairy tale entitled “Town Musicians of Bremen,” which chronicles the adventure of a donkey, a dog, a cat, and a rooster. These aged domestics, having passed their prime, are cast aside by their owners. With a “something better than death we can find anywhere” attitude, they band together and head to Bremen to become musicians. In a shocking ironic twist, they never make it to Bremen, settling instead at a cottage along the way after ridding the premises of thieves and brigands. A bronze statue depicting the quad squad was erected near Marktplatz in 1953.
*Image courtesy of Netpacker.com
Once I hit Europe, my historical and cultural explorations took a nosedive. This chapter of my extended sojourns became something of a cognitive respite as well. I soaked in the ambiance without pondering the significance. I do regret this, but at the time, it felt right. No sugarcoating it: I got lazy, though I escaped mental lethargy long enough for a pit stop at the Bremen Cathedral, a 13th-century church dedicated to St. Peter. The “room of silence” dovetailed with my mental repose, though the antagonist within wanted to scream for shits and giggles. I refrained.
My perambulations were peppered with random highlights. An intoxicated gentleman passed out on the floor of a tram. A few good Samaritans tried to rouse him, but he was beyond help. The tram was brought to a standstill until an ambulance arrived, forcing us to switch trains.
I saw a 30-year-old gentleman perform a unique birthday ritual that involves dressing like a woman (wig, dress, etc.), sweeping up a pile of bottle caps, and ingesting alcohol in front of the cathedral. This is what you’re reduced to if you’re an unmarried male at 30. Not sure if this is a Bremen thing or ubiquitous across Germany. What happens when you turn 40? Maybe barnyard animals are involved? A donkey, a dog, a cat, a rooster…
And then there’s Alsterwasser (also known as a Radler or Shandy), a mixture of carbonated soda (usually Sprite) with beer. In a country famous for beer, it feels wrong and tastes, in my most humble opinion, even wronger. If you don't like Sprite, you can substitute Coke or Fanta, but it won’t excuse your behavior.
