Berlin
Breakfast at the hotel, pay up, say
goodbye to Frau Baalmann, pack the car, return the precious Zone 9
parking permit, and we were on our way. First item on the agenda was
to get to the Tin Figure store, now that it was Monday and it should
be open at 10. It was easy to get there, but impossible to park. We
finally gave up.
Parking in Berlin is a tremendous
challenge. There are different rules for every little stretch of the road--need a residential permit for the
right zone, need to buy a ticket from the machine, sometimes both are
acceptable, applicable only during certain hours, temporarily
overruled due to construction (there's lots of that going on), and
the like. Until you establish a regular pattern, it's a matter of
finding a place that seems to be legal, maneuvering into the space,
and then getting out and examining the fine print on the various
signs, some of which could be quite a ways down the block. And even
if you've established a regular pattern, you still have to be on the
lookout for the temporary exceptions.
So, having failed to get to the Tin
Figure store, we turned on GPS and asked The Queen to send us to
Poznan, Poland. Easier said than done. She wasn't aware, of course,
of any of the construction detours that
we would encounter. Umleitung
is the word for
detour—remember
that word, as it's an important one. And
if you're in an area with lots of construction there might be many of
them going on simultaneously, so be sure you know your Umleitung's
number, as it will appear on the signs.). GPS
also tended to lose sync and had to recompute when we got into
urban canyons where the satellite signals couldn't penetrate. We
followed faithfully, interpolating through the dead zones, and
finally breathed a sigh of relief when we were clearly out of town
and on a long, straight road. We could never recreate the exact
route that we ended up taking.
Entry into Poland was utter simplicity.
No customs formalities whatever, despite its not yet having become a
member of the EU. Long, straight roads, very wooded with well
maintained trees, and large open fields, some occupied by industrial
quantities of flowers. Fields of yellow, and purple. And bright
green, and corn stubble too. Very flat terrain.
We found ourselves driving down quite a
grand avenue as we neared our destination in Poznan, another Airbnb
rental. The final turn however brought us to the service road behind
the nice homes, with a view of very busy trolley tracks, and a
junkyard. Another adventure! After a minor mixup in scheduling, our
hostess Izabella (Iza) arrived and let us in to her apartment in a
building at the end of the street, overlooking the junkyard.
Junkyard aside, it was basic but pleasant. It truly was her own
home, and she would stay with a friend whenever she was able to rent
it out. We had full run of the place, including all the food in the
kitchen! And her father's plum wine. Produce from his garden was
stashed everywhere: onions, pumpkins, walnuts and a basket of large
zucchini. We chopped up one said squash into omelette and soup.
Dinner was at a very nice restaurant,
located within a recently reconstructed set of buildings that trace
back to when a large number of Germans from Bamberg, many of Polish
background, were offered incentives to move back to Poland to swell
the workforce and improve the economy. All this happened after the
Black Death, so we are talking many centuries ago. The meal was
delightful. Steve had a traditional Polish soup called sour rye with
honey and mushrooms.
It is mushroom season here. They are
all over the menus, and the markets. People are collecting them in
the woods and selling them on the street corners.
No pix from today's adventure. Lots
coming up tomorrow.
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