Tag kiel

Day 2 of “I am doing this again” – Kiel > Altenholz

soleil 3 Comments
A purple blue sky greets me, as I open my eyes

I open my eyes, embraced by the comfiness of very soft covers. My eyes wander towards the window, and I see the light navy sky being lit up with early morning sunshine. Do I really have to leave this comfy bed? Is it too late to change the whole plan? My mind procrastinates meaninglessly for a couple of minutes, and then finally decides to start this day. Damn, it’s cold, I realize, as I pull my legs out from under the cover, remembering that I was way too sleepy yesterday to put some pyjama pants on. Let’s first make some coffee.

View outside the window

Excited to take advantage of a very spacey kitchen, I prepare my morning cup of coffee and walk back to the bedroom to do some stretches, facing the interesting view outside. I contemplate about how I will physically feel, once I reach my destination today, as I stretch my legs. After I finish, I sit on the side of the bed and enjoy my coffee, looking outside the window. There’s a beautiful morning haze that makes some buildings softly fade into the sky. It calms me down so much to just look outside, to watch the doves on the top of rooftops, and I don’t realize I spend almost half an hour just doing that.

View outside the window

I take ages to find the energy to pack and go. It’s still the second day and I haven’t found my way to an efficient packing routine yet. I realize that with every hour I waste it gets hotter outside. But it’s okay, I try to comfort myself. It’s all just starting and it’s the way it is.

Finally, after checking a hundred times that I didn’t forget anything, I leave the apartment and walk down, excitedly taking my first steps of today’s trip. The sun shines in a heartwarming way, and the city is much livelier than it was yesterday. The plan is to walk along the shoreline of Kiel – Kiellinie, until I reach a super high bridge – Prinz-Heinrich-Brücke, to cross over to the other side of the Nord-Ostsee-Kanal (North Baltic Sea Canal) and continue walking towards Altenholz, today’s destination.

The sunshine makes the water look like liquid silver

After ten minutes of walking, I reach the shoreline. The young day’s sunrays fall on the water in an angle that makes it shimmer. A very busy street, Kaistraße, runs parallel to the water, with lots of cars driving past me and dozens of other people sharing the sidewalk with me. Even though it’s quite noisy, I choose to take in all the sounds and to not start listening to music already. Part of my intention for the hike is to be as grounded in the moment as possible, and that includes being present in the comfortable and the uncomfortable.

I am surrounded by many tourists, which somehow makes me feel less awkward walking through the city, kind of being a tourist myself, even though one can still see I am there for another purpose than sightseeing with a tour guide.

I pass by an enormous building, the Schwedenkai, a harbor pier on the Western side of the Kiel fjord, which fascinates me with its size and its position right by the water. I can’t help but stop and capture it on video, using the chance to hide in some shade.

It’s very, very sunny and warm. And a few minutes later, after some meaningless stubborness about not needing sunscreen – what I also like to call meaningless Egyptian pride – I give in and stop to apply sunscreen on my arms and face, and to also wear a cap. I underestimated the intensity of the sun and realize it would be stupid to get a sunburn on my second day. That wouldn’t make up for a good story now, would it? And this surely makes the hike feel more official, or at least a bit more professional, now.

I spot a gigantic cruise ship from where I sit and watch a group of tourists take some photos of the ship from the distance, while waiting for a ferry. I get up and keep walking. The closer I get to the ship, the more tourist groups I encounter, many of which are accompanied by a tour guide.

Apparently it’s a sightseeing spectacle, and I am amused at the fascination others are showing for it. Most of the tourists are seniors and English, it seems. I wonder why, but I know I am not going to get an answer on this day and keep walking. The ship indeed fascinates and scares me at the same time. It has so many floors, and I wonder how much fuel it takes to operate that ship. And I try not to think of other scary scnearios…

A gigantic cruise ship
I count eight floors… 😨

Oh, well. I walk ahead and walk some more. I realize I got stuck in a parking lot, missing an exit about 100 meters back, just as I am getting into a good pace, and I still can’t deal with the heat. I start walking back. Can I make it? I am annoyed that I am already doubting myself and remind myself that I have a plan, and that it’s all gonna work out somehow. Worst case scenario, if all fails, I have other ways to reach my destination.

I walk next to a very noisy part of the street, a bit distant from the water, keen on reaching my next waypoint, where there should be a little park awaiting me. I pass a young man, holding some sort of rolled up print, and the anxiety with which he walks makes me feel like he’s about to hold a presentation at a university seminar or something. For a moment, I am also back at university, remembering the anxiety pre-presentation as well as the relief post-presentation. I also remember a certain sort of energy, an energy that was easier to take advantage of and to form however I like, than the energy I feel now. But none of it makes me want to go back. I am rather relieved that kind of anxiety is over.

Finally, after walking through a path surrounded by some trees, I see the beautifully glowing water again. It’s so calm, with people sitting in the sun, or cycling through, and I immediately take out my camera to capture part of it. Just as I do, I see a police car passing on the promenade, and I get annoyed at the part of me that flinches and starts to pretend I am not taking a photo. But as part of me already knows, the police doesn’t give a fuck and doesn’t even look at me. Oh, Egypt and its traumas… are you ever going away?

A few steps later, I give in and take a break. I’m still at 3km, but I remember that it is more important to take several small breaks, than to push it too hard and take a longer break, after I already hurt myself too much. A beautiful tree embraces me with its shade, as I sit on some sort of rectangular piece of concrete, take off my shoes and stretch my legs over my backpack. I enjoy the ease I find myself doing such a simple motion with now and realizing the shyness holds less power over me than it used to. I rest for ten minutes and continue my walk.

The police is having some sort of gathering by the pier, some officers excitedly walking down the stairs towards a boat of some sorts. Must be nice to have to do this, whatever this is, on such a sunny day, I think. I am again amazed at how little they care, as I walk towards one of their parked cars to throw away something into the trash can next to it. No one even looks at me.

As I walk ahead, I spot a woman standing by the edge of the pier, facing the sun, closing her eyes in pure enjoyment. At another spot, I see part of the pier turned into a bathing area, which would be so tempting to join on this hot, sunny day. The light reflects so beautifully off the water, giving it a lovely silver hue. On the other side of the pavement, I see people sunbathing, with a drink or coffee or ice cream in one hand, and I almost give in and join. But I still got over 10km to walk…

There’s a lot of construction works at one part of the promenade, making pedestrians have to walk in a wavy form, switching between one side of the pavement to the other. It’s a bit annoying and monotonous, so I put on some music. pov: ur in an 80s film driving at night, it is, and I immediately fall into a dreamy, blissful mood, as I hear Starshine and Outlaws (this one I highly recommend for anyone, who likes synthwave/retrowave music, that makes you feel like you’re in outer space – absolutely beautiful).

As soon as I realize that I am now past the harbor and much closer to the water, I forget about any annoyance. No boats or anything block my view anymore, I am just a jump or fall (please no) away from the water. At some point, I reach a beautiful panoramic view of the water and I stop to take it all in. Oh, how much I would just love to swim.

I realize that I am getting hungry and need another break. I sit myself down on a bench, protected by some shade and have a snack, as joggers and cyclists whoosh past me. I am not so satisfied with my pace today and realize that the heat is taking a heavier toll on me than I expected. I need to reduce the weight of my backpack and I need to wear lighter clothes tomorrow. And I need to find a solution for my hair. I accept that it is not going as well as I planned at this point and decide to cut the next part of the route, till the big bridge, by taking a scooter. It feels a bit like cheating, but I realize it makes more sense to use the energy I have efficiently, than to be stubborn.

And so, a scooter it is. Thank God there even are scooters at this part of the city. The plan is to reach the tip of Schleusenstraße, and from there to cross the bridge. Off we go.

A ride on a pirate ship, anyone?

I reach a very industrial area, with almost no one around. Some electric buses are charging, and I stand next to a big wall of what I later find out is a boat yard. I walk a few steps, and from a distance, I spot the bridge.

Oh my God, is that high! I suddenly remember the photos of the view from up there, which I saw on Komoot, while preparing my route. And it suddenly hit me how high the bridge must be to get that kind of view. And I’m supposed to get up there somehow? Okay…

I walk towards the bridge, and I pass some sort of fuel storage farm, directly on the shore. I don’t like the area at all, but I like seeing which purposes the shoreline is being used for.

A few minutes later, I am standing under the bridge, purely amazed at the height of it. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a high bridge before (it’s 42 meters high). I can’t wait to see the view.

To get there, I pass through some sort of little forest underneath, with a zigzaggy path, and then I have to walk up a very steep ramp, which leads me to a stairway. I notice I am sweating insanely, as I take a short 1-minute break, upon reaching the top of the ramp. Fuck, it’s humid. At least, the view is already a little more rewarding…

A few tired steps later, I reach the top of the stairway and finally find myself at the beginning of the bridge. Success! I take a deep breath in, put my backpack down for a couple of minutes to readjust myself and get some fresh air through my wet tshirt, and then continue walking.

I notice that there is some construction on the bridge, and there are almost no cars passing at all. And there is a chest-high concrete wall dividing the sidewalk and the street, which is an enormous relief, as it immediately makes me feel less visible and like I have much more privacy. And indeed, I am amazed at the view, which needs its time to enjoy.

You don’t see this view everyday

Every few steps I take, I stop. It’s very windy up here, which is a perfect combination with the sun on my skin. I love that I can see an endless sky from up here, and so much blue underneath. As I am the only person up here for minutes and minutes, I feel like I am in some sort of movie somehow, a sci-fi, and I am about to discover I can fly or something. I spend a few very happy minutes up there and surely have my share of photos…

I love the endless sky and the emptiness
Castle view, anyone?
Find the jogger

After taking in as much as possible and capturing it in my heart, I walk further, heading down on the other side. A very hidden path leads me through some trees, away from the street, and into some sort of green back alley, next to some farmers’ houses (or so it feels). It’s incredibly humid at this area, but I keep walking.

I realize I am about to walk parallel to some vast fields, and I see a bench, half of it in the shade. I decide to take my next break there, surrounded by mesmerizing green, beauty, which energizes my Soul and makes me feel like I have arrived into this hike now.

I lean back, enjoying the calmness, which is sadly destroyed every few minutes by some sort of planes, which pierce the sky and the rawness of the scene. I don’t know what they are exactly, but I know it’s some kind of hobby or a sport or something. They are not travel planes, and I realize with amusement that travel planes sound much nicer. These ones sound like some sort of old motor that is struggling to keep going. Ugh, what a pity. But after a few minutes, I fortunately manage to zone out from the sound and to enjoy the moment again.

Some bicycles pass by my precious hiding spot every once in a while, some parents with kids, some loners, like me. Some greet me, some continue in silence.

After I get enough break time, I get up and continue walking. I know there is a forest and lots of shade soon, so I look forward to that. I encounter a man, who had just cycled past me, sitting on a bench with a beer in his hand, and I say hello. Moin, he says. A greeting I am still too shy to use. (It’s a local kind of greeting in some parts of Germany, here’s more about it.)

The forest immediately hugs me with lots of trees and feels at least 5 degrees colder than a few steps before. I’m almost there. A couple with two black labradors walk ahead of me, immersed in a lively conversation I only hear snippets of. I watch the woman’s curls bounce with her movements, as she talks, and I am jealous of her light dress and sandals, which I’d love to put on right now, instead of my black hiking pants and sweaty t-shirt. But I’m almost there.

I pass a very swampy area, which Komoot made me think would be a lake. LOL. It’s basically a pond of water so thickly overgrown with algae, birds can probably walk on it. Nonetheless, I like to stop by it and to enjoy the shadows of the tree leafs falling on the surface.

I walk further and encounter a woman, who seems a little overwhelmed with three big dogs she is trying to get to listen to her. Good thing they’re on a leash, I think. She smiles shortly and in a thankful way at me, as we pass each other and as I let her walk through with her dogs first.

And then, I finally reach the village. Altenholz. With such relief, I seek a park, where I can take a break, until my check-in time comes at 4 PM. It’s still 3:00 PM, but I don’t mind, looking forward to a long reading break, which I immediately take advantage of, when I spot a bench in a shade.

Oh, the quiet. How beautiful. And the sun. And the fresh green of the grass… I extend my arms over the bench and lay my head back, breathing in and thanking the Universe for this moment.

Some little girls sit on a bench, talking to each other excitedly, they must be still in 5th or 6th grade or something. I enjoy watching the lightness they talk with and the simple things they are fascinated about. On another note, I see a teenage couple, lying on the grass, underneath a tree, making out without a single care about anything around them. How sweet, I think, trying to embrace some of their lightness of being in this moment, as well.

I pull out my little yellow Reclam book, Aus dem Leben eines Taugenichts by Joseph von Eichendorff, this time intending to finish it and to take my time reading that challenging old German. I had tried to read it like 3 or 4 years back, and I got a bit frustrated with the level of German it’s written in, but I am amazed that I can understand it much better now, and that I am enjoying the poetic character of it. And I embrace the protagonist’s energy – a wanderer, a dreamer, walking out into the world with his violin and childlike curiosity and wonder, getting hurt, feeling awe, and experiencing the bittersweetness of love. Just, as I pull up my legs on the bench, I spot a woman with a dog and an interesting energy walking past me, saying Moin, with a smirk. Hallo, I say back meekly with a smile, a bit unsure, why I feel so shy.

The time passes, and 15 minutes before it hits 4 PM, I start packing up my things. A group of little kids hangs out on top of the grassy hill in front of me, listening to very annoying, in my ears extremely disharmonic music, which keeps cutting off and suddenly going on again, like a broken signal,ruining the last minutes of silence. Probably for the best, I think, as they make me get up on time, and letting go of this moment much easier.

I walk through little streets, past cute little houses and reach the house I will be spending the night in. A sweet host, Mona, greets me and what seems to be a Maltese dog, barks at me. But after exchanging a few kind words and extending the back of my hand for the little dog to smell as a sign of peace, she stops and lets me pet her.

I am guided up to the little apartment, upstairs, and immediately feel at ease. Mona, who I am sure is Arab, like me, but I am too shy to ask, makes me feel at home, and leaves me to settle in.

A warm sunlight shines through one of the windows, and little welcome snacks in the kitchen make me smile. I look closer at one of the tea sachets – شاي … it says, and I smile once again, at a sweet, unexpected reminder of home, and with warmth in my heart, I allow myself to arrive.

__ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __

If you like this post, I’m happy if you like it, share it or drop a comment below. 😊

Today’s completed route:

Trip stats:
ca. 12,6 km (not including the Scooter part, of course) – 2 hrs 42 minutes (in motion) – 5,4 km/h (average speed)

If you’re interested to see the path I walked on komoot, follow this link:

https://www.komoot.de/tour/1292708155

Featured

Day 1 of “I am doing this again” – Berlin > Kiel

soleil 6 Comments

Part 1 – The Train Tales

I’m sitting here and it’s really happening now, I think to myself, as the fresh morning air blows through an open train window two seats ahead of me. Berlin whooshes past me with its familiarity and empty streets, a rarity to be cherished on Sunday mornings. I take a moment to feel gratitude, at the same time excited and anxious about the trip that awaits me.

Today’s plan: taking a Flixtrain to Hamburg Central Station, where I’ll switch to the regional train RE70 heading to Kiel. There, I go on a city hike and spend the first night there – a soft, welcoming start to my 6-day trek, before it gets intense. Part one, check. I made it to the first train that leaves at 07:56, and I did not oversleep.

As we reach the outskirts of Berlin, the feeling starts to settle that I’m on an adventure, another one that awakens body and soul. My favorite kind. What will I take with me this time? What won’t work out? What will I laugh about later?

I enjoy thinking that this time I approach things that don’t work out with open arms, accepting that there is always something that doesn’t go after plan, and there are things that go way well above expectation. Universe, I challenge you to challenge me.

I use the calm alone time to write some notes, to read and to listen to some music. Maasai by Surma accompanies me with its strangely warming and playful lightness, and I dream away, as I write and watch the beautiful fields we pass through. So many white butterflies at this time of year.

A group of other passengers interrupt my calmness with their laughs and their loud talks every once in a while. One of them is standing in the hallway with a beer in his hand, leaning on the seats of both aisles and facing his friends. They’re annoying me. But somehow I don’t care as much as I usually would. I remember earlier times of travel where this would cause me great anxiety and give me the feeling that the whole experience is ruined. I enjoy that somehow I seem to have grown a much thicker skin over the years and can zone out, if I choose to… But is it cool that they are kind of drunk already, when it’s barely even 09:00 AM? Well, it’s a good thing I’m sitting all the way in the back.

As I watch the details flow by in incredible speed, I contemplate how sometimes this feels like a symbolic passing of my own life. And I feel my heart overflowing with love for all that is and all that’s ever been. The blissful and the most painful. And it gets so intense that my heart fills up with so much awe for life, that I could cry. Especially with Empty Jar by Phaeleh playing in the background. And then I start asking myself how I could make this feeling last and how it’s possible that this feeling is so rare compared to all the anxieties and the melancholy I feel so often. And I hear a voice softly saying: “You don’t have to make it last. Just enjoy it while it’s there.” I like that and I feel it comforting my heart.

As we approach Hamburg, I feel the excitement grow stronger. I pack my things, swing my heavy backpack towards my back and get into let’s do this mode. I walk towards the exit area and hesitate, spotting two men, both clearly very wasted, standing there. Hmm. I choose to just walk back to my seat and wait there instead. But as I’m about to walk back, one of them opens the glass door dividing the two sections for me, saying “it’s clear you want to pass, young lady, come on”, and I notice it’s one guy I already had several encounters with, in which he chose to tell me I’m dressed nicely and am the prettiest woman on this train. I get a bit anxious at what he will say now, but luckily, he seems to be mainly focused on talking to his friend. And we’ve just entered the Hamburg Central Station anyway.

And then everything happens so fast. There is an incredible amount of people, a mass, a wave, swallowing everyone who might accidentally fall into it – like me – and heading into one direction. I am swallowed and walk with the crowd, totally uncoordinated on where I’m supposed to head. I spot a kiosk and run into it, anyway needing some water, as I thought of everything in the morning today, but filling up my water bottle.

Relieved to get the chance, I get a bottle of water and head out of the shop. The crowd is smaller now, I notice with even bigger relief. I can even make a couple of short videos, a new format I want to integrate as a sort of documentation on this trip. I watch everyone pass by, with all their different bags, clothes, ages, destinations. Everyone heading somewhere, chasing some purpose. Like me. Well, what is my next purpose? I don’t know, but I know I need some coffee before the next train…

I spot an empty coffee booth in the middle of the platform and am served by a very friendly woman, who lifts my already overwhelmed heart. She’s a bit surprised I want my coffee purely black, with no sugar or cream. This surprise moment I encounter so often always amuses me. I thank her, and just as I’m about to find a spot to enjoy my first sip, I find that the train already waits on the platform. Why is it only two wagons? Fuck…

Yes, fuck, indeed. The small train is completely overfilled, I notice, as I walk through, desperately trying to find a seat with my big backpack. I remember all the news I heard about the 49 euro ticket / Deutschlandticket (or “Germany ticket”, a subscription public transport ticket introduced in May 2023, valid in the whole of Germany, for all public transport), which I now own myself, causing very big amounts of people to take advantage of the regional trains and that it’s a very stressful situation. Like it is now. But part of me is happy to see it actually makes that difference and that it makes more people take public transportation, as it intends.

I keep walking and suddenly spot a 4-seater occupied only by one man. I ask him in hopeful desperation if these seats are free. He shrugs and says he doesn’t know, he was also walking through and weirdly found all 4 empty, and doesn’t know if they are reserved or what. Oh, okay. Well, let’s give it a try, I say, and he adds that someone has to tell us, if they are occupied. Sounds like a plan. I sit down on the seat opposite of him. It’s like our guardian angels kept those seats free for us or something.

I notice the seats are next to a bathroom. Well, maybe that’s why they’re empty? We’re not gonna get any quiet today, I think. But I don’t care, I’m just curious what form the journey will take and have no expectations of any sort of comfort I normally would seek. Next thing, a big man spots the remaining empty seats, too and asks, if he can sit next to the other man. The other man, while looking at his phone, surprises him by saying he anyway has to get off the next station, and gets up completely. The man sits down opposite of me and puts down a beer on the table we share. He’s completely dressed in a black Rock’n’Roll style, wears a light green tie, loosely tied around his T-shirt, a black cap and his hair is dyed in red. Interesting. He seems tired and a little confused.

It keeps getting fuller and fuller, some people don’t try to board the train anymore, others just sit down on the floor and give up looking for seats, and a young group of friends approaches our area. Annoyed at the situation, they choose to sit down next to us, two take the remaining seats, the other two sit down on the ground, blocking the path to the bathroom. I hear the train conductor, for the first time ever in my life, announce that the train is filled at maximum capacity now and everyone else should take the next one (which comes every hour). Phew. Lucky me.

I can feel the excitement and nervousness of everyone in the air and try to zone out by putting on my headphones and listening to some music. But there’s too much happening, and the group next to me laughs and talks with each other in a way that makes it difficult to zone out. I am also kind of curious about what they’re saying, but after a while, I get bored and put on some podcasts. The trip is not so long anyway, just around an hour and a half to go.

Part 2 – A Messy Greeting

We finally reach Kiel. The Rock’n’Roll guy and I say goodbye to each other in a sweet way. We didn’t exchange one word all trip, but I thank him for standing the weight of my backpack against his knee during the whole trip, after he smiles in a sweet way, while I take it away. He wishes me a great time, as he leaves, and I wish him the same. I like such endings to random encounters.

And then I leave the train, again overwhelmed by the crowd, stopping for a minute and looking around, until the area clears a bit. I feel my Soul excited over seeing a new station and city for the first time. And then, I take my time slowly walking out of the station.

Still not used to the weight of my backpack, I walk with quite some discomfort. The area around the central station is very full and I’m a bit annoyed at some people staring at me. After a few minutes, I reach an emptier street, full of construction works, so zero cars. I walk up what feels like an endless hill to the apartment. Fuck, I forgot to check how hilly this area is. I also notice I’m quite tired already. And I’m hungry. And my back hurts. Okay, just a few more steps…

I reach the address, take out the key from the lockbox, open the entrance to the house. It’s an old house and I like its aesthetic. Excitedly, I try to open the apartment door… without any luck. The key doesn’t fit somehow. I try again and again. This can’t be happening. Am I stupid? I go out and sit down on the porch, thinking what next step I should take. I write my host and try to call her with no luck. I go into the house and try again. I check the name on the doorbell what feels like a hundred times, cross-checking that it’s really the same name attached to the keychain. I start closely looking at the form of the key and the lock, and see that they clearly don’t fit. Wonderful. Things are going wrong now already?

I turn to the Airbnb support and a nice agent tells me to go sit in a café, as we figure this out. Coffee’s on them. Alright. I find a sweet coffee shop called Campus Suite and sit down in relief at getting some rest. The place is really nice and cozy and very empty, what a relief. And with a hot chocolate in my stomach, everything seems a bit less absurd. The agent helps me find another place, a much better one, I realize with a tiny bit of excitement. And one that is not so far. He cancels my old booking, and I’m ready to go.

Tired of walking (what a good, promising start, I think to myself), I find me a scooter and take it to the new place. It’s much closer to the Central Station and the location seems much more interesting. I take the key out of the lockbox, walk up a very tight and steep stairway, up to the third floor, and just as I open the door, I hear Hip Hop music. Oh no, is someone here? I walk in carefully, look around and realize it’s just some radio playing off a loudspeaker, as some sort of welcome music. That’s sweet. But it’s a bit scary at first. And then the relief hits me. I put down my heavy backpack and walk around, exploring the apartment, happy and amused at the way things worked out and being aligned with a much better place after all. I lay myself down on the couch and sigh in relief. Arrived.

Part 3 – Kiel, Show Me Your Secrets

After what feels like two hours wasted resting and writing an official complaint to Airbnb to speed up the compensation process, I manage to find enough motivation to still make something out of my hiking purpose for this day. I almost doze off on the couch, but then a tough voice reminds me I get only this one chance to make the best out of my visit, and if I choose to stay on the couch, that’s a very bad start. That does it. Okay, I’m getting up.

Of course, the route I had originally set out to walk is a lost case by now, but I still want to have seen a bit of the city, before I leave tomorrow. So I spontaneously plan a new route on Komoot, take some snacks, my camera, a book and head out. First, I walk past the Central Station, still a bit sleepy and confused from my day. I don’t feel very comfortable in the area. Very macho men keep staring and smiling at me every few meters I walk, which confuses me. Also, it’s very full and noisy, and the vibe is not the most uplifting somehow.

I keep walking up the street Sophienblatt, until I reach a park, Moorteichwiese. Immediately, I feel different. The area is much calmer and there’s barely anyone walking the streets. The sun shines through the trees, casting a beautiful, playful shadow on the houses. I pull my camera out and shoot my first real photo of the trip.

I keep walking, letting the golden sunlight warm my skin. I walk through a park, down a hill, I pass by a couple sitting under a tree, enjoying the sunlight, and two girls unlocking their bikes off the fence. I take it all in, still feeling a bit restless, and keep walking.

There seems to have been a festival or something, I notice, as I see a fenced area the size of a football field, being cleared out by lots of people and families. There are a lot of kids, playing, running around, screaming. I walk past two women, one of which suddenly yells at her daughter, who keeps whining around, and I notice two festival organizers watching from a distance, with a very attentive and serious face. I walk on, wanting to get out of here.

Next, I again walk down Sophienblatt, towards a bridge. This time, fascinated by the sunrays lighting up the street and the houses. I am also fascinated by the aesthetics, colors and shapes of the houses and use the chance to make many photos.

I proceed to the bridge, Gablenzstraße, and enjoy the spaciousness of the pavement, and the view over the rails. I love that no one bothers me, as I stop and make a couple of photos from the top.

A few steps later, I find myself walking through the parking lot of a public indoor swimming pool, Hörnbad. I enjoy the calmness that grows with every step I take, moving away from the loud street above.

A child happily runs over white circular markings on the pavement, while its mother tries encouraging it to come back.

On the other side, I see a seagull and a raven competing over a crumpled up paper bag, which is obviously empty, but they haven’t reached that realization yet. A young man with a green shirt and white pants walks past me, and I love the way his outfit complements the surrounding so nicely.

The sun is setting and I admire the warmth of the light highlighting the tree tops. I realize that I’m really tired and decide to cut the tour in half and make a short break in a park I’m about to enter and then to start heading back, while passing the harbor. And so, after several failed attempts of passing a drunken trio of friends with two dogs that take up the whole pavement, and one of them being nice enough to notice I need to pass and letting me pass – “gosh, the woman needs to pass, let her pass, shall you” (laughingly)– I sit down in a rounded area of stairs and let the sun warm up my face.

A calm couple sits a few meters away from me and a group of teenagers sits above me, on another level, much higher. I try to find the calmness to read a book, but my mind is too scattered and my soul too agitated from the day, so I choose to just have a snack and to edit some photos from the day on my phone.

Let’s continue. I walk up some stairs and go left, down Bielenbergstraße. Through some bushes, I spot a very old woman, wearing a light pink outfit, walking with her dog, very slowly, on a very narrow path, standing out in the midst of the dark bushes and trees around her. And just as I am about to pull out my camera to capture her, she looks at me. Dammit. I know some photographers have the guts to still take a photo in that moment, but I am always too shy and too scared to make the person feel uncomfortable. Or worst case scenario, to have them come screaming at me, like I experienced so often in Cairo, without me even taking a photo of the person directly. Damn those annoying scars.

Well, I enjoy watching her walk in her calmness, without taking a photo. It seems more to me like the dog is guiding her, not the other way around. I admire the groundedness with which she walks, despite clearly being unable to walk well anymore. And then I move on.

As I reach a traffic light, I spot three antennas casting their shadows on a house in a beautiful way. I also love the way the golden light just warms up the whole scene.

Walking ahead, I reach Elisabethstraße, which feels like an old alley, with many old, cute houses. The sun casts its remaining light on the roofs of some houses, and some windows reflect the sunlight, casting it on the street. I live for such details.

I take my time walking through, capturing all I can capture, and taking it all in in awe. I realize I feel much more energetic and fulfilled than I did half an hour ago.

A few steps ahead, I spot two old men hanging around a kiosk and smiling at me in a creepy way, as I approach. Ugh, why does this keep happening? I actually change sides and walk to the other pavement, upset that I have to do this, but I don’t feel like getting into any sort of conflicts today or having anyone ruin my precious time. I keep walking, proud of myself that I can shrug this off much quicker than I used to be able to. At least something positive about it. Although 18 year old me would strongly disagree that this is something positive.

Crossing Karlstal, a big street, I start seeing more and more people, many of which are young boys, hanging out in little groups of 4-5, scattered all over the place. I then hear lots of noise – kids screaming, people talking in big numbers, scooters and bicycles driving across, and I notice with surprise that I’m entering a square – Vinetaplatz – with lots of activity going on. And I hear lots of Arabic. Many families with children running and screaming around a playground, women conversing, men speaking loudly, almost like they’re yelling, but they are not, as they gather in groups, standing around in corners of the square. I smell shisha. I feel overwhelming familiarity, as if I am back in Egypt. I choose to enjoy the familiarity, at the same time craving for the calmness I am seeking on my trip and walk ahead. I can imagine it turns into a very lively square once it gets dark.

Soon, I walk down another pavement, surrounded by trees, next to a church. Pastor-Gosch-Weg. The light blue sky painted with pinkish hues awaits me at the end of the path. I walk and walk and face a beautiful surprise.

I find myself at the top of some bridge, with a lovely view over the city. Something about the vibe of it reminds me of Cairo. Like I’m in Heliopolis, looking over the city from a high building or something. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I enjoy the feeling this strange association is leading to, and I enjoy the fresh evening air cooling down my skin.

The city seems quite grey from this perspective, I think. But even all this greyness looks lovely from the top. Seagulls squeak non-stop, circling above me, landing on the top of houses, only to continue gliding through the air a few moments later again. I walk, until I reach some stairs. It’s very calm, a pure enjoyment after a lot of noise.

I can spot the harbor, and I look forward to reaching it and to slowly put an end to this long day. Walking down the stairs, I see some young seagulls fighting over a styrofoam plate with some leftover crumbles and sauce. I am amazed at the size of these birds, which really feel like flying dinosaurs to me. I am relieved that they are seemingly the ones scared of me, and that they are not aware of the power they have.

A few steps later, I reach Germaniahafen, a small part of the harbor, with small ships docked. I stand there for a couple of minutes, watching a diversity of people walk by, while some skateboarders whoosh past me.

I decide to walk by the water, passing a couple with a brown dog curiously looking at me, with its ears lifted, and a person without a home, preparing to settle in their spot for the night.

I reach the Hornbrücke, a folding bridge, by now also a tourist attraction in the city. Sadly, I don’t get to see it folding this time, but I embrace my tourist persona and make many photos and videos, while standing on top of it. I enjoy the vast view over the water. I dream of taking the ferry that commutes between Kiel and Oslo from that harbor next time. I never really traveled by boat before and am curious how that would feel. But for now, I just enjoy the soft evening twilight.

I again reach the central station, pass quickly by a supermarket for some first day reward treats and dinner, and as I get out, I spot a fascinating reflection of the sunset on a building. Despite the messiness I carry everything with, I stop and fiddle around for my camera, capturing that beauty. I even inspire another person to stop next to me and make a photo as well. How lovely. With gratitude and fulfillment, I walk through calm side streets leading to the apartment, settling into the relief of things working out today after all and curiously anticipating the adventure that awaits me the next day.

__ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __

Route walked:

Trip stats:
6,34 km – 1 hrs 12 minutes (in motion) – 5,3 km/h (average speed)

If you’re interested to see the path I walked on komoot, follow this link:

https://www.komoot.de/tour/1292110278