T, U, V, W – Trinken, Unvergesslich, Verwandtschaft, Waldstrandbad
- rachseelig
- Jun 26
- 4 min read
The race to the end of the alphabet continues! In just four days, we leave Germany and fly across the pond to Canada. We’ll spend July with my parents in Vancouver, and honestly, I’m resisting even stepping foot in our house after so long away. So, I “volunteered” Erol to drop off our extra luggage there while I languish with the kids in a hotel near Pearson Airport before we fly to Vancouver Monday morning.
T is for Trinken (Drinking)
The temperature here has been consistently breaking 30°C, which means lots of fluids! Some keep us hydrated, others just keep us happy. Leo has become a major Schorle fan. For those who don’t know, a Schorle is juice (or sometimes wine) mixed with sparkling water, a.k.a. Sprudel (fizz). His go-to is Apfelsaftschorle (sparkling apple juice), but he’s also tried Johannisbeere (currant), Traube (grape), and mango.
Sparkling water in Germany is its own world. You’ve got your boring old stilles Wasser (still water), also called ohne Kohlensäure (without carbonation), and then there’s a dizzying range of Sprudel—from sanft (gentle fizz) to spritzig (the kind that makes you sneeze and hiccup). And ice? Nein. What are we, American?!
Then, of course, there’s beer, which my kids have shockingly developed quite the palate for. My summer favorite is Hefeweizen, always served in a tall glass. Seasoned beer drinkers know to clink glasses from the bottom while prosting, all while locking eyes with an intensity that borders on uncomfortable.
But I also love a nice Weißweinschorle or a Hugo—which I mentioned in a previous post and fully intend to continue drinking and proselytizing about once we’re back in Canada. Anyone know where to find elderflower syrup?
U is for Unvergesslich (Unforgettable)
We left our Freiburg apartment just two days before Rafi’s 8th birthday on June 20. I felt awful that he wouldn’t have a party with his friends this year, so we planned something special. Our wonderful friends Matthias and Ceres offered us Matt's parents’ Airbnb for a few days in the Kaiserstuhl, a hilly wine region just outside Freiburg. The Kaiserstuhl is lush and volcanic in origin, with mineral-rich soils perfect for vineyards, and boasts an almost Mediterranean microclimate, sheltered by the Vosges to the west and the Black Forest to the east.
Matt and his boys (the older one was Rafi's classmate) joined us for the first three nights so we could all celebrate Rafi’s birthday together. Matt's mother, Gabi, was the bubbly and generous host we adored—though we understood maybe 70% of her thick Baden dialect. Leo understood significantly less: “She talks weird!!”
We visited a lovely Baggersee (literally “excavator lake,” meaning man-made) near Matt's parents’ place, then hit up an awesome Freibad (outdoor pool) in Emmendingen, where the kids had a blast on the Wellenrutsche (wavy water slide). Rafi and Leo get along swimmingly (no pun intended) with the other two boys —it’s pure joy watching those four little soulmates splash around together. Erol and I adore Matthias and Ceres and will really miss them.
The unforgettable highlight was, of course, Rafi’s birthday treat: Europa Park! Germany’s largest theme park, it offers over 100 attractions and shows across areas themed to different European countries. It was like a cross-continental trip in nine hours! The boys had never experienced anything like it (I’ve miraculously kept Disneyland a secret from them), and despite being a total wuss—especially queasy on the Christopher Columbus-themed carousel—I had a blast. Erol, however, sat most rides out. Wimp!
The biggest thrill for the boys was getting soaked repeatedly by the Poseidon rollercoaster in the Greece section. Rafi was in seventh heaven the entire day. Honestly, I couldn’t imagine a better way to ring in 8 than on an Achterbahn (Rollercoaster in German literally means “Figure Eight Railway”).
V is for Verwandtschaft (Relatives)
After a few more days in the Kaiserstuhl—filled with more swimming and hiking (also known as whining) through the lush landscape—we drove to Windsbach on Monday, back where this sabbatical adventure began, to spend time with Erol’s parents, aunt, and brother.
It’s never easy seeing Erol’s mother in her diminished state, and this visit has been made even more challenging by an unexpected personnel change with her 24-hour live-in help—a new arrangement that so far hasn’t gone as hoped. Erol’s father, nearing 90, is still remarkably well (he even tried to play a little soccer with the boys! Bravo!) but clearly struggling with the current reality, as is his aunt Gisela, whose degenerative lung disease now requires an oxygen tank. Each has a strong, distinct personality, and together they sometimes create moments both hilarious and absurdly aggravating. If Three’s Company were ever remade for a geriatric audience, these three would be perfect—though who would play Mr. Roper?
W is for Waldstrandbad (Forest Beach Pool)
Windsbach is a small village of 6000. Though anyone who lives here would bristle to hear me call it a “village.” Its 14th-century City Wall gives it city rights, thank you very much! The big summertime attraction here is the Waldstrandbad, literally “Forest Beach Pool,” a massive freshwater pool measuring 60 by 100 meters right in the middle of the woods. The pool has been utterly transformed since I first visited with Erol back when we were dating—thanks to a major renovation adding two waterslides and a pirate ship!
But I’ll never forget that first time. Erol and I were treading water side by side, looking across the grayish-green expanse at a parade of elm trees, when I asked what year the pool was built. He wasn’t sure and went to ask the lifeguard. The lifeguard sighed, “Tja, I think it was 1938. You know how it was back then. Everyone called it the Kampfschwimmbad (literally ‘combat swimming pool.)” It was built by the Nazis as part of a regional initiative promoting public health, sport, and tourism. Eek.
Erol remembers it like this: “I watched my Jewish girlfriend sink into the water up to her eyebrows.”
It was a deeply uncomfortable place for me 15 years ago—and yet here I am now, splashing and laughing and playing freely with our kids. History is a very strange thing, isn't it?
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