Blissfulbritt | Page 2

- Leiphmier Moos
  
  Posted at 2:00 PM by Brittany, on September 3, 2020
  
  When I first arrived in Germany I set a goal of traveling to one new country every month. I planned to live in Europe for 15 months, which meant 15 new countries total. My original plan was to leave Europe in April of this year, and I successfully visited 15 new countries by the time April rolled around.
  
  Then Covid hit, the world shut down, and I was forced to stop moving.
  
  The Corona quarantine months were some of the best months of my life. I had already been feeling burned out by all the travel, but I am living in a culture where this is what we do. We work, we travel, and we repeat. Not much time to rest. Heaven forbid I actually stay in Germany instead.
  
  It has been nearly six months since I have been on a plane, or taken a train or a bus to a different country (I have biked to Austria a few times, and one time took a train, but Austria is literally a pebbles throw away.) Instead I have been throwing myself feet first into Germany – by bike.
  
  I never considered myself a biker, but now I can’t imagine my life without this sport. When I was a runner (many moons ago) I never felt the way I feel when I bike. Exercise is meant to be therapeutic, to celebrate what your body can do, and I feel this whole heartedly when I bike. My bike has been my saving grace, and I have grown quite attached to it.
  
  I regret to say it took me FAR too long to figure out how/get the courage to take my bike on the train. The whole process reminds me of when I first bought my Cannondale (which I cannot wait to ride again next month) and rode it onto the ferry sitting among the other bike commuters of Seattle.
  
  The ticket process is simple enough, there is an all day bike ticket for Bavaria and with this I am able to bring my bike onto the train any time, all day long – for only 6 euros. Knowing where to take the bike is another story. Sometimes cabins are full, and I have to pretend I know what the train workers are telling me when they are trying to guide me through narrow rows to another cabin.
  
  With my newfound knowledge of transporting my bike, I decided to visit my dear friend MaryBeth in her new city of Ulm for a Sunday of biking. I have biked all over Bavaria (and still have so many untouched bike paths), so I wanted to explore another state. Ulm is in the state of Baden-Württemberg, and the landscape is like night and day to the state of Bavaria.
  
  Not only is Ulm a larger city than where I live, there are few mountains around and the bike paths take a bit longer to get to. MaryBeth and I decided to bike to a wetland park that is about 15 miles from where she lives in Ulm. This made for a beautiful and different than what I was used to 30+ mile bike ride.
  
  What I loved most about this midwest looking terrain was all the corn fields and sunflowers. There were no big hills, just open fields of farmland.
  
  Our chosen destination was called Leiphmier Moos, and I wanted to go here because MaryBeth told me this wetland preserve is home to some Highland Cows. Perhaps it’s what they signify, or where they come from, but my love for the Heilan Coo is strong.
  
  Moos is the German word for moss, and I have found the areas that end in “Moos” are typically wetland areas. Moss aside, this preserve not only had Highland cows, but it also had bull frogs, ostriches, and water buffalo. I was only lucky to see the first three.
  
  After my temporary pretended teleport to Scotland, we headed back towards the city. We made a pit stop along the way at an abandoned lake where we had a snack and escaped the sun for a moment. My adventures with MaryBeth are always a good time, no matter what we do I always enjoy spending time with her.
  
  The last six months have been incredibly eye opening for me. I don’t want to say I regret how I spent my first year living in Germany, the travel was wonderful, but I do wish I had prioritized this beautiful country more. I’m thankful I was forced to slow down and thankful I was able to bike my heart out in southern Germany.
  
  I see myself living in Germany again someday, which is wild to say because my heart has always been set on Ireland or Scotland. I have a soul tie to the UK, but I now have a soul tie to Germany after my time here. All this to say, you never know where you will end up. All I know is that I am open to just about anything these days!
  
  Q: Is there somewhere in the world you have an unexplainable draw towards?
  
  | 35 Comments Tagged Biking, Brittanys Life Abroad, Frosty
- Change is a Beautiful Thing
  
  Posted at 2:00 PM by Brittany, on August 27, 2020
  I am an emotional human. I attach myself easily to people and to places (although I hide it well, it takes a lot for me to show my vulnerable side), and although I consider myself a minimalist – every so often I attach myself to things (currently my bike.) That being said, while I would consider myself good at enacting change in my life (usually impetuously), I also struggle immensely with change.
  
  OK, but who doesn’t?
  
  I think my biggest hurdle when it comes to change is that I like control and certainty. When making decisions I have a hard time feeling fully confident in the choices I make, because I easily panic wondering if I made the right decision. Truth be told I don’t really believe there is a right or wrong decision, there is just “a decision” and life follows accordingly. Certainty is almost never an option.
  
  Life adjusts to the paths we choose.
  
  I have learned a lot about myself in the last year, specifically in the last handful of months. I started a brief, but helpful counseling routine from March-July and while my journey is no where near complete it was a nice introduction into some deeeeeeep work that needs to be done. I also discovered some truths about myself during the three month Corona quarantine, when my life of non stop travel was brought to an abrupt, but necessary halt.
  
  Traveling has become a huge part of my life in the last decade, and it wasn’t until recently that I discovered while traveling is amazing – it can also be a bandaid. The moment I get antsy or feel the discomfort of stillness (aka prime time to sit with emotions) I do something drastic. Travel has been one of many ways I continue running from emotional traumas I have been running from since before I can remember.
  
  This is not to say traveling isn’t also a way to heal, it has been extremely liberating to embark on some of the adventures I have embarked on, but there is such thing as too much travel.
  
  I have somewhat unknowingly been carrying a lot of emotional baggage throughout my life, stemming back to my childhood. My last relationship triggered some deep rooted abandonment issues and I am now noticing how some of my behaviors the last few years have been a result of these stuffed emotions. The human body is an amazing machine, and does what it needs to in order to feel safe, but eventually the storms need to be faced.
  
  Trauma is not something you can outrun, it must be worked through, felt, acknowledged, and honored before the energy in your body can be released.
  
  Every single one of us as humans have some type of stored trauma in our bodies. And so many of us suffer with similar emotional setbacks. I have found myself not allowing enough down time to actually process my emotions, and I am constantly running from one thing to the next. So often we are told to quiet our emotions, don’t show weakness, if it wasn’t a physical abuse it wasn’t a big deal, emotional abuse isn’t as serious…
  
  I’m here to tell you it’s serious.
  
  While I am farther than I was yesterday, and the day before, I am painfully aware that I need to press the pause button on life.
  
  What a better time than now to do this, while the world is quite literally in a moment of pause (or at least it should be.) My life in Germany has been a whirlwind. I have done so many things while moving at a speed my body was never meant to keep up with. I have lived so much life in such a short period of time, but along the way I started to loose my balance. My footing became wobbly, like walking on loose gravel.
  
  I’ve found myself in a limbo where it feels like I am falling and the floor underneath me is no where to be seen.
  
  My health has taken a backseat and this high paced lifestyle is no longer serving me. To be honest it never really was. I so desperately want to live a life in Europe, and I have stuck with a job that has robbed me of my sanity and my peace. I am in desperate need of a rest, and a reset. It has been a difficult decision, but it’s time for me to return to Washington, press the pause, and reevaluate what I want in my life.
  
  I have come up with a few things I hope I can enforce as non negotiables moving forward.
  - Stillness – I need time in each day where I wake up without having to rush off to a job where my nervous system is bombarded with action for 8 hours straight. My autoimmune disease flares when my body is stressed.
  - Community – while honoring my needs of being alone, I must prioritize fostering a FEW deep, core throbbing friendships. Loneliness leads to unhealthy coping behaviors.
  - Balance – this is my favorite word for a reason, my life needs a balance in what I eat, how I move, and how I share my time.
  - Boundaries – I struggle with boundaries. I give my all when I don’t have my all to give. I don’t speak up when my voice needs to be heard. I know what I need to feel balance, and I need to ensure I set these boundaries.
  - Adventure – I need the right mix of adventure and reality. Time to sit with my thoughts, but also time to see the world at a much slower pace.
  - Healing – I want to feel my emotions more. I want to feel sad, I want to feel happy, I want to feel despair, I want to feel joy, I want to FEEL. The only way out is through.
  - Bravery – I muuussssttt get over my anxiety surrounding meeting new people. The only boundary I’ve enforced has gone too far the wrong way and the walls surrounding me are sky high.
  I am devastated to be leaving Garmisch, this place has become my home and the mountains surrounding me have become my therapy space. I feel pain and sorrow thinking about no longer living near the bike paths that have lifted me up when I was falling apart. Part of me feels like I am giving up, but at the end of the day I don’t want to settle. I don’t have a clear vision of what the right decision is, but I do know I need to pause.
  
  My body has been screaming at me to do something different for months. It’s both a blessing and a curse to be so in tune with my physical body.
  
  I have been living in a cyclical cycle of ups and downs for nearly a decade, and I am finally realizing why there has been no significant break in this loop. I run to the next adventure hoping it will heal my wounds, when I am the only one who can. So while I might feel unsure of what the right decision is, I am choosing to trust in the process of life. My need for control stems from a need to feel safe, but at the end of the day I will never have full control. Only God has that power.
  
  All I can do is choose to sink or swim while my life plays itself out.
  
  I have one month left in Garmisch, and I will be moving to Washington at the end of September. I don’t know if I will ever feel total peace about it, but each day I challenge myself to get further away from my black and white thinking. When I came here I was only planning to stay for 15 months, and here we are almost two years later.
  
  I will live in Europe again, but I will have a better lifestyle more conducive to my needs. I need to remind myself that although I love this area, my life as a whole is not in a sustainable balance. I could have sought out another job, but at the end of the day I ain’t living the life I need or want right now, and it’s time to face the music that is emotional healing. Healing leads to change, and change is a beautiful thing.
  
  Besides, it’s also time to see my family after a lonnnggg time away. My cat has no idea the storm that’s coming his way. (Me, I am the storm.)
  
  Q: How do you make difficult decisions?
  | 42 Comments Tagged Brittanys Life Abroad, Garmisch
- Austrian Alpine Lakes
  
  Posted at 2:00 PM by Brittany, on July 29, 2020
  
  Back in 2015 when I started hiking regularly, I fell in love with alpine lake hikes (this one is my all time favorite.) In order for a lake to be considered “alpine” it must be above a certain elevation (somewhere around 5000 feet, or 1524 meters), and is often fed by mountain runoff. In Washington where I am from, these alpine lake hikes start close to sea level, which means it’s quite a climb to see them.
  
  Anyone can visit a regular lake, but you have to work to see an alpine lake.
  
  Here in the Alps there are cable cars to help cut off some of the climbing, but the assistance in reaching an alpine lake doesn’t make the journey any less spectacular. Last summer I was introduced to two lakes in northern Austria very close to where I live, and I had been daydreaming about seeing them ever since. I finally made plans to spend a day in the mountains, and it was a day I won’t soon forget.
  
  These two lakes are within the same hiking region on the Meininger Mountain range in Ehrwald Austria. I have ridden my bike to Ehrwald a couple times, and I originally thought about biking to Ehrwald, hiking to the lakes, and biking back. This brief psychotic episode was short lived thankfully, because that would have been rough.
  
  Instead I took a train (with my bike) to Ehrwald (saving an hour and a half of uphill biking), biked to the cable car where my pal Galiya and I took the cable car up the mountain (saving two hours of hiking) and began our journey to lake number one around 10:30.
  
  First stop: Seebensee.
  
  The views on our way to the lake reminded me of the Swiss Alps, and were far more expansive than any of the hikes I have done in Bavaria just next-door. I couldn’t believe I waited so long to experience Austria in this way. The mountains kept going, and around each corner was a new view unlike anything we’d passed earlier in the day.
  
  It took us about 1.25 hours to make our way to Seebensee, and the terrain was doable for any hiker. I was out of breath a few times, only because Galiya and I were speed walking. After necking it back to enjoy the journey we fell into a comfortable pace. Once we arrived at Seebensee we found ourselves surrounded by other humans, and rightfully so – the lake is gorgeous.
  
  We also found ourselves surrounded by lots of alpine cows. My favorite!
  
  The weather was starting to get quite warm, and I was relating on a personal level to that cookies and creme cow in the above photo. Galiya and I brought our bathing suits so we could dip our overheated bodies into the lake, but we decided to save our plunge for lake number two.
  
  Second stop: Drachensee.
  
  The climb to Drachensee was more intense than the walk to Seebensee. This required over 300M of climbing in a short span of earth. We started the climb around noon (aka the peak heat of the day), and my body was definitely feeling the burn (inside and out.) I took my time, and stopped to savor the view of Seebensee a handful of times while I let my heart rate calm down.
  
  What I love most about hiking in Europe, aside from the jaw dropping views, is the diversity among hikers. People of all ages and shapes come out to hike, and everyone goes at their own pace. I saw more people over the age of 50 hiking to Drachensee than I saw people my age or younger. It’s not only motivational, but inspirational! I strive to live a life that will allow me to continue hiking well into my 60’s and even my 70’s!
  
  We took about 30 minutes to climb the switchbacked hill up to Drachensee, and at the top of this hill lives the Coburger Hütte – a mountain hut where most people stop to savor a bit or a brew. Galiya and I skipped the crowded hut and continued the final few minutes down to Drachensee.
  
  We had every intention of swimming in this lake, until we arrived. Drachensee is a beauty of a lake, but her inner core disappears into a thick darkness hiding whatever lives under the surface (Drachensee = dragon lake.) I don’t like swimming in water where I cannot see what is underneath me, and I have self diagnosed myself with Thalassophobia.
  
  Side note: this Buzzfeed article made me want to vomit and I could not finish looking at the photos!
  
  The deal breaker for me was seeing a large pipe leading into the lake from the shore, and almost immediately disappearing into the darkness. Nope, nope, nope. Instead we sat around the shore of the lake where little to no other humans were, ate a snack, and savored the view while our core temperatures cooled off naturally from lack of movement.
  
  The trails surrounding Drachensee are seemingly endless, for more intense hikers and even climbers there are routes that continue onto the peaks above the lake. There is a Klettersteig route as well, but I like living so I opted for the lake as my “summit.” We planned to go for a swim in Seebensee after avoiding being sucked into the dragons lair of Drachensee, and began our descent back down to our first stop.
  
  Initially I couldn’t figure out why no one was swimming in either of these lakes. When the sun is strong and people are out hiking, it’s hard to find a spot to set up and swim because everyone is out swimming. I was worried all these German speakers knew something we didn’t, but we decided to go for it anyway.
  
  I quickly discovered why no one was swimming.
  
  This icy blue water was just that – icy! The moment I stepped my toes into the water I was met with an overwhelming surge of cold. I slowly continued to wade deeper into the water, hooting and hollering the entire way. Had it not been for my feet slipping on the algae covered rocks I likely would have taken much longer to submerge my body.
  
  I then went in and out of the lake three times. I guess I was a sucker for the pain. Overall it was my feet and hands that suffered the most. I could have kept my core in that water for much longer. After cooling off our internal heaters we sat on the grass next to the lake watching small human specks walk across the mountain peaks surrounding us.
  
  We were in the middle of a cow party, and had a handful of cows come to see what we were up to.
  
  As we dried off and reclothed, we made our way back towards the cable car to start our journey back home. Not before stopping at the Seebenalm for a bite to eat and a chat with a tiny human. A small boy came and sat with us as we ate our food and I proceeded to make him count in German for us (he spoke to us non stop in German, but I only understood 1/10 of what he was saying.)
  
  He was such a sweet and pure soul.
  
  Our original plan was to bike back home (it’s mostly downhill), but after a full day of hiking (we managed ten miles) we decided to train back home. We made it back down off the mountain at 1700 – 6.5 hours later! It’s days like this that make it really, really hard to leave Europe.
  
  Q: Does swimming in bodies of water without a clear view of what’s below you scare you too?
  
  | 29 Comments Tagged Alpine Lake, Austria, Brittanys Life Abroad, Hiking
- Blaubeuren, Germany
  
  Posted at 2:00 PM by Brittany, on July 16, 2020
  
  *A very special Happy Birthday to my Papa today, he is a remarkable human!*
  
  Blaubeuren (not to be confused with Blaubeeren) is a hidden gem of a city about 20 minutes by train from Ulm. My dear friend and former roommate MaryBeth moved to Ulm at the beginning of June, and 2.5 weeks later I took a train to visit her so we could spend some time together.
  
  I just missed her too much. 😉
  
  While trying to decide what we wanted to do for our one full day together, MaryBeth suggested we go to Blaubeuren and see the Blautopf. The Blautopf (literally translates to blue pot) is a turquoise spring where professional divers explore the depths below the surface in order to access entrance to the Blauhöhle – the largest cave system in the Swabian Alps of southern Germany.
  
  I could never dive deep under these waters without having a panic attack, but I sure enjoyed being mesmerized by the still blue waters from land.
  
  This spring reminded me of my time in Yellowstone, being surrounded by hot springs of similar colors. Only this spring was not boiling hot.
  
  A small path leads around the Blautopf for different views of the spring, and I was amazed by how different the colors were from one side to the other. I did slightly enhance the above photos, but for the most part these are the true colors of this spring from one side, and the below photo is the color from the other side.
  
  It looks like a completely different spring/pond. The views of the Abbey to the left and the surrounding buildings to the right gave a spectacular view and reflection though. This spring alone was worth the trip to Blaubeuren and I was already happy with our decision to come here, but the day just kept getting better.
  
  Upon arrival into the city, I noticed a large cross atop a small hill off in the distance. Knowing MaryBeth is up for anything (one of the many reasons I miss her so much) I asked if we could go find the trail to the top. We weaved and bobbed in and out of neighborhoods before finally finding the trail.
  
  It was a short 15 minute walk to the top, but the views were lovely. A few other parties of people came and went, but we shared the top with three older German men for a good 30 or so minutes. We spent the remainder of our time up top (which was quite a while) discussing the current state of the world from a Christian perspective.
  
  It’s conversations like these that make me feel like a whole human again. I only wish I had them more frequently.
  
  The Swabian Alps are clearly much different than the Bavarian Alps where I currently live, but they have their own kind of charm. I love the green tree covered hills cradling the city center below. Blaubeuren is an amazing city and had it not been for MaryBeths move to Ulm, I would have never thought to stop here.
  
  This city quickly became one of my favorite cities in Germany.
  
  After we spent time at the cross, we wandered further away from the city center following the mountain ridge lines. Off in the distance we could see some castle ruins atop another hill, and this became our next destination. I love friends who love walking for hours. Although the ruins don’t look too high off the ground, the path getting there took longer than I thought.
  
  We finally found the ruins, only to discover a fence around the bottom clearly indicating entrance was verboten. Suddenly we saw a group of people walking around the inner ruins and then they walked out of the gate like it was no big deal. We arrived at the ruins around the same time as an older couple, and the older man watched the group come out of the gate and decided he was going to go in.
  
  Naturally, I followed the old man.
  
  I try to follow the rules most all of the time in my life, so this slight bend of the law had my adrenaline running at full speed. I ran up the steps of the castle to follow the old man, and once we made it to the other side of the entrance we made eye contact, exchanged a laugh, and quickly looked at the view below. He mumbled something to me in German, and I just laughed and nodded as I had no idea what he said.
  
  Just smile and wave.
  
  After I safely made it out of the fence without the Polizei catching me, we wandered our way back down the mountain. I showed MaryBeth the awful photos I snapped in my running panic, because she was in the process of getting her German Visa and wasn’t willing to risk getting into trouble – smart girl.
  
  The walk back to the train was leisure and relaxing. The river running through the town beckoned people from all over to swim, and wade. We made it back to Ulm at a decent hour where we made dinner and played cards with her boyfriend Ben. The older I get, the easier I am to please with evening activities.
  
  Give me a good meal with good people and I am content.
  
  We spent the following morning enjoying coffee together, chatting more about life, and walking around Ulm a bit. I say it a lot because it’s something I cherish so deeply, but I am immensely grateful for MaryBeths friendship. I am also thankful I will forever have a place to visit when I come back to Germany. 😉
  
  If anyone is curious what it’s like to live as an expat in Germany, MaryBeth has started sharing her experiences on her blog! Check her out.
  
  Q: Would you rather stand tall at the top of a mountain, or swim deep in the depths of water? I’d rather crawl up the sketchy mountain I hiked a couple months ago than ever dive deep in the water.
  
  | 25 Comments Tagged Blaubeuren, Brittanys Life Abroad, Germany, Ulm
- Wandering and Pondering
  
  Posted at 2:00 PM by Brittany, on July 13, 2020
  
  Since returning to work full time on 15 June, I haven’t done many outdoor activities. My first few weeks back to working full time were rough. It’s amazing how quickly your body adjusts to not being on your feet all day, and at the end of my work days I was useless. My days off were spent resting, or doing something low key.
  
  My body has since readjusted to working full time, but I still opt for chill after work adventures – if any at all.
  
  I haven’t hiked much since I finally summited the Kramer at the end of May. The bigger hikes take more planning, and my body has to be in a specific condition for me to succeed, but one mountain I can always count on even when I feel less than 100% is the Eckbauer. Although I never feel 100%, but you get the idea.
  
  The Eckbauer is the perfect balance of “I need to move because I feel like a slob,” and “but I don’t want to do anything crazy.” The elevation of this summit is a mere 1237m (4058ft) with a gain of 529m (1736ft). Just enough of a sweat – an hour of a climb, without feeling destroyed at the end. At the top of the Eckbauer there is a Hütte if you fancy a bite or a beer.
  
  This hike is arguably one of my favorite views for minimal work.
  
  The Eckbauer is right next to the Olympic Ski Stadium, where the 1936 Winter Olympics were held. Before the Olympics, the town of Garmisch (where I live) and the next door town of Partenkirchen were separate entities. They did not associate as a unit. That was until Hitler decided he wanted to have the Olympics in little ol’ Garmisch.
  
  Garmisch alone was too small for something as monumental as the Olympics, and Hitler decided to combine the two towns into one. While each town is still individually referred to by their original names, the technical name for the entire area is Garmisch-Partenkirchen. But don’t ever go into Partenkirchen and call it Garmisch, the older locals still value their separation.
  
  I love history.
  
  Another small hike (more of a mountain walk) I did last month was on the Kramerplateauweg, which I have walked on manyyyyy times. I normally wouldn’t blog about this because I have done it so many times, however this time was different.
  
  Spring and summer time means animal time on the mountains surrounding Garmisch. What this means is the cows, goats, and sheep come out to play. The farmers in the area have spots of land on some of these mountains for their livestock to roam, and for weeks I saw a small patch of white specks on the Kramer from my room.
  
  These specks made loud bell clangs that carried throughout the valley, and I knew they must be sheep. While I was on my walk this day, I found my way into the open field of sheep and it was like walking into Narnia. I didn’t seek the sheep, but suddenly there they were, and suddenly my life had a kind of meaning I didn’t know it was missing.
  
  I admit there were a few times the sheep came walking towards me briskly, and it scared me. They were just curious and wanting to say hello, but anytime an animal with teeth approaches me, aggressive or not, I get a bit freaked. They just wanted to know if I came baring gifts in the form of food, but I sadly disappointed them.
  
  I sat with these sheep listening to the comforting clangs of their bells for about ten minutes before heading back down to my bike. This was an unexpected, but wonderful surprise. I find such joy in the sounds and smells of farmland. I know that sounds bizarre, but it reminds me of the simpler times of open rolling hills in Ireland.
  
  One more notable post work adventure I embarked on last month was to Badersee – a very small lake in Grainau. Grainau is the next town over from Garmisch (opposite of Partenkirchen), and I ride my bike here often when I want to shake out my legs. These backyard quickies are such great options for movement after work, or just on days I don’t feel like committing to a long bike ride.
  
  A quick 15 minute ride, an even quicker 10 minute walk through the woods, and Badersee provides a breathtaking view.
  
  I live in an amazingly beautiful place of the world, and the thought of leaving brings a physical ache to my heart. I feel the heavy throbs of sadness every time I think about it, and unfortunately I have been thinking about it a lot lately. My time here is coming to an end, but if I had come here with a significant other I could probably stay forever.
  
  Alas, I have struggled with my job for a while now, and I have already stayed longer than I planned simply because I am head over heels in love with Bavaria.
  
  My plan is to leave at the end of September, but I know this will be like pulling a rotten tooth without anesthesia – painful, but necessary. I would love to stay in Germany, and there are other options for jobs, but there is a small piece of my heart that tells me this is not the time. I am trying to balance my heart and my mind, and I am trying to trust that God has a plan for me I do not yet see.
  
  I knew when I came to Germany my time here would be ephemeral in the grand scheme of life.
  
  Sometimes I daydream about truly diving into the German culture, learning more German (Mein Deutsch ist nicht gut), making friends with the locals, and completely overhauling my life. Then I think about my cat, and my family and something stops me every time. Change is something I have always struggled with, which is ironic for someone who has enjoyed working seasonal jobs the last three years.
  
  This job has been different, I will have been here just under two years, which is a significant chunk of time. The longer the time, the harder the change. Life here is nothing like it was when I first arrived though, and I sense the need to move on. As much as it physically pains me to say. I have become increasingly more lonely the last few months, as my core group of friends has left.
  
  This might seem contradicting as I have posted about fun friend adventures, but those are brief weekends among months of loneliness.
  
  I have only just begun to open the can of worms that is self healing from past trauma, and this adventure has been amazing, but it’s time to put more focus and energy into healing my spirit, mind, and body. I have also noticed with the return of my period, my emotions are out of control for one to two weeks of the month.
  
  I’m talking really dark headspace.
  
  Once the PMS weeks are over, my loneliness calms down, my body feels better, and I feel more intrigued by pursuing life in Europe with a different job. Is this the change I need? It’s hard to say, I don’t know which way is up and which way is down right now. Part of me does not want to come back to America, but I also feel very out of balance right now.
  
  One thing is for certain – I cannot keep working, and living where I am. It is not healthy for me in any way, shape, or form. I must prioritize quality friendships ASAP. I will leave it at this for now as I reminisce on my June jaunts, and as I daydream about all the adventures I hope to embark on before I leave beautiful Bavaria.
  
  Q: Have you recently made a difficult change that you knew was necessary?
  
  | 13 Comments Tagged Brittanys Life Abroad, Garmisch, Germany, Hiking
- Kuckuck für Triberg
  
  Posted at 2:00 PM by Brittany, on July 6, 2020
  
  English translation: Cuckoo for Triberg.
  
  Triberg was the final stop on my weekend getaway with Galiya and Austin (my previous two posts share the other stops if you missed them.) Our original plan was to go to the Black Forest on day one, Burg Eltz day two, and Nürnberg day three. When Galiya suggested this itinerary I was glad I had already seen Nürnberg because otherwise I would have been overwhelmed.
  
  I’ve been talking so much about wanting to slow down my travels, yet I agreed to a weekend crammed full of driving. Thankfully, during our drive the first day we readjusted and decided to spend the final day in Triberg, which is also in the Black Forest. The driving time was similar, but Triberg is much smaller than Nürnberg.
  
  Air B & B Views
  
  After our adventure to Burg Eltz, we made our way to Triberg for the remainder of the day. We arrived around 1800, with plenty of time for a nice home cooked meal, and a walk to a nearby children’s park. Galiya and I spun our hearts out on a spinning wheel “ride” of sorts, the three of us attempted a wannabe zip line, and I haven’t laughed that hard in months.
  
  Where were these kinds of parks when I was a kid?
  
  The following morning I woke up before my compadres and made myself a cup of coffee while sitting on the outside balcony enjoying the view. I often struggle with my current job – the high pace, inconsistent schedules, living so close to those I work with, and lack of alone time really gets to me. I then take a weekend getaway and I am reminded why I am still here. It’s quite literally like a drug for me.
  
  I sat and stared out at the golf course in front of the balcony, watching the automatic lawnmower run circles around the grass. I felt the wave of peace I often feel when I am sitting in a town far away from the hustle and bustle of work/other Americans. My heart aches more and more for a true life in Europe – but not this one.
  
  The longer I am here, the more I am starting to believe my ideal life in Europe is possible, but I just don’t know when.
  
  After Galiya and Austin woke up, we all enjoyed coffee together before making breakfast. I love, love, LOVE traveling with humans who enjoy cooking meals instead of going out. I know there is something special about going out to eat while on vacation, but for me I prefer to make my own meals if possible.
  
  Lucky for me, these two were all for it.
  
  With a belly full of brain food, we headed off to the Triberger Wasserfälle, a famous waterfall we thought would involve an epic hike through the woods. This waterfall is one of the highest in Germany, but only because the town of Triberg has a high elevation. The last time I visited the Black Forest I tried to find an epic hike, only to end up at a tourist attraction at the highest elevation of the forest.
  
  Something similar happened this time.
  
  This time, it was Austin who suggested the waterfall. We arrived only to discover not only did we have to pay to get in, but it was a waterfall we could see from the entrance to the woods. Needless to say this was not what we expected, however the waterfall was beautiful and I’m still glad we went.
  
  The annoying part was that we had to wear our masks walking around the forest. I am ALL FOR the masks…trust me, I am living in Europe and I have seen first hand the success of mask wearing. HOWEVER, when outside I think it’s annoying. Everywhere else in Germany we don’t have to wear a mask when outdoors, so this was rough.
  
  I was breathing like a fish before death walking up some of these hills, and the mask was making it worse. We managed to take off our masks with enough time for a photo before waterfall patrol found us and told us to put the masks back on. #rebels. Don’t worry, we were more than 6ft away from others.
  
  The waterfall walk took us all of 30-45 minutes, and we spent the rest of the late morning walking around the shops. The Black Forest is believed to be where the Cuckoo Clock originates from, and Austin was on the hunt for a clock for his mom. My mom has also been longing for a true German Cuckoo clock, but my overthinking mind hadn’t been able to pull the trigger on a clock because there are too many options.
  
  I discovered Austin and I are quite literally the same person. He struggles almost more than I do when making an important purchase (although I have similar struggles even over items that are under $10.) I just can’t decide when there are so many choices, it’s immobilizing. Thankfully for me, his struggle was my gain and I had so much time to stare at these clocks while he was deciding that I ended up buying one too!
  
  I bought the battery operated version of this one.
  
  I ended up choosing a classic looking clock, hand painted by the main who ran the shop. He and I chatted about his woodworking history in a town near where I am living, and he was such a patient, kind older man. I’m terrible at surprises, so I told my mom that evening about the clock. Mostly because I was worried she wouldn’t like it.
  
  She’s either lying to appease me, or she really does like it.
  
  Cuckoo clocks in hand, there was only one more stop to make in Triberg before we headed back to Garmisch…
  
  Triberg is home to “The World’s Largest Cuckoo Clock” and this large building has a bird in the tiny upstairs window that comes out twice an hour. We managed to make it just moments before the birdie came out to say hello. The greeting from this bird was the most anticlimactic chirp, and we all shared a laugh and a “that was it” comment.
  
  After our date with the large bird we made our way back to Garmisch, and I sat in the back seat of our rental car watching the road pass me by thanking God for these two selfless, kind humans. As if the trip couldn’t get any better, Austin and Galiya asked if I was ok listening to a sermon series they had been enjoying on the drive home.
  
  It was music to my ears. ❤
  
  Q: Cuckoo clocks – annoying, or fun? I think I could manage one, but having more than one in my house would drive me mad.
  
  | 26 Comments Tagged Brittanys Life Abroad, Cuckoo Clock, Germany, The Black Forest, Waterfall
- Burg Eltz
  
  Posted at 2:00 PM by Brittany, on July 2, 2020
  
  Many moons ago, I saw a photo online of a beautiful castle in Germany. I knew nothing about this castle, but I knew I had to see it in real life. I tucked the thought into the back of my mind for as long as I can remember, but on my recent weekend getaway with Galiya and Austin we drove 6 hours round trip in one day just to see this castle.
  
  It was worth every minute of the drive.
  
  We left our Freiburg Air B & B around 0900, and arrived at Burg Eltz around noon. I anticipated this would be a busy time to visit, and it was. Because of this I didn’t manage to go inside the castle, but we walked around the grounds for a better view.
  
  I wish I had more information about the castle from a formal tour, but what I do know is that this castle was untouched by the war, and is owned by the same family from when it was built. The castle is tucked into the woods, and required a 20 minute walk from a small parking area through forests of trees and valleys.
  
  We stayed in the area for a little over an hour, walking around the exterior and soaking in the views. Austin took a handful of photos of Galiya and I in front of the castle, and these are some of the first photos of myself I have seen in a long time that I didn’t hate.
  
  It’s taken me a long time to feel “comfortable” in my bigger body, but moments like this are huge victories for the disordered eating voice in my head.
  
  I have an average build these days, but I sometimes catch myself looking at photos of myself when I was quite small. The days of dedicated running (to the point of anxiety and physical fatigue), the days of a plant based diet (unknowingly eating WAYYY too few calories for my activity levels), the days of stress and an emotionally abusive relationship (causing me to go extended periods, and at times full days without eating.)
  
  Yeah, the unsustainable and unrealistic lifestyle that brought forth a tiny frame.
  
  At the time, I didn’t realize what I was going through/doing was problematic. The bucket full of water finally tipped over, and it has taken me a long, LONG time to get to the point I am today. It wasn’t until this past September that I started consistently eating more calories. I’ve gained weight, and with the extra pounds I also gained back my period.
  
  Anytime I look at myself in photos or a mirror and start to feel unhappy with my body I remind myself how far I’ve come.
  
  I am far from perfect, food allergies will always be a fickle thing to navigate with a disordered eating history, but I am getting better each day. Accepting my body where it is in this current moment has allowed me to fully enjoy my experiences and to be present. It makes a world of difference when I travel with people who understand I have to eat certain foods to ensure I feel well, which automatically lowers my overall anxiety.
  
  I am thankful I can look back on this castle visit with nothing but positive memories. All of my travels have had some positives associated with them, but a lot of them have also had moments of struggle, where food choices took over my mind in an omnipotent way. At the end of the day all that matters is that I feel well, and while this is never a guarantee with Sjogrens Syndrome, I do my best to make positive choices everyday.
  
  My adventures require planning, sometimes days prior to the day of activity. Adequate rest, hydration, stress management, and most importantly food. I pack bags of Brittany friendly foods to ensure I have enough to eat on these longer days out and about. This not only keeps my brain happy, but it makes life easier for everyone involved.
  
  I’ve only recently found a balance with this way of life mentally. I would travel solo because it made life easier, but automatically shutting others out because I assume they will be burdened by my needs is a disservice to all involved. My company is just as worthy as anyone else’s, even if I don’t have the same flexibility as others.
  
  Life is not perfect, just like this “real life” view of how the castle looked on this day. Lots, and lots of humans.
  
  These last two posts about my weekend getaway have both had a deeper story mixed within the photos of castles and new cities. I may divagate from the original subject, but the two topics still conflate in a way. As I continue to heal from the inside out emotionally, I find the moments I feel the most progress being made, are the moments I share with specific people.
  
  For so long I have tried to “heal” myself with my lifestyle choices, but that’s not how this works. We can eat the most perfect Eden like foods, rest often, meditate daily, but without healing the loneliness deep within a human soul the other actions are moot. I believe this now more than ever.
  
  It is so easy for me to fall into the black holes of “I am too much of a burden” with my limitations in life, but this has brought me NOTHING but emptiness. Those who want the best for me will always move towards me, and those who don’t…wont. At the end of the day who wants to be around those who don’t want the best for them? Certainly not me.
  
  Q: Do you have any limitations that make you feel like a handful at times? If I don’t bring my own food when I go out and about I feel extremely anxious with other people. I like being prepared so that I don’t keep everyone waiting while I try to find a Brittany friendly restaurant. This is a limitation I am happy to work with.
  
  | 25 Comments Tagged Brittanys Life Abroad, Burg Eltz, Castle, Germany
- Freiburg im Breisgau
  
  Posted at 2:00 PM by Brittany, on June 29, 2020
  
  Three months. Three beautiful, calming, compunction free months. This is how long I went without traveling, and in these three months I felt at ease. Before the Coronavirus hit, if I had any amount of time off and I didn’t travel somewhere I felt like I was wasting my time off. Even when I started to slow down, I would still have some lingering guilt if I didn’t want to travel somewhere.
  
  First world problems, I know.
  
  My last official trip was to Romania, and I returned to Germany on March 13. One week later the hotel I work for closed to the public, and I spent three months biking my heart out all around Bavaria. I would have never had the time, energy, or thought to do as much biking as I did had I not been “forced” to stay put.
  
  On June 12, exactly three months after my trip to Romania, the opportunity presented itself and I took a weekend trip to the Black Forest with two amazing friends. This trip was last minute, and when I discovered I had the same weekend off as a good pal (Galiya) and her boyfriend (Austin), I accepted a gracious invite to tag along with them.
  
  This was a perfect way to ease back into traveling.
  
  My ideal trip is somewhere I can drive to. Having a car brings a sense of control that is impossible to find with a train or bus. This isn’t always possible, but living in Europe makes this a little bit easier. It’s amazing how quickly a train ride, a plane ride, or BOTH can exhaust me. The three of us rented a car, making this trip effortless from the start.
  
  Galiya and I both worked until noon on the Friday we left, giving us plenty of time to drive to the first city we wanted to explore – Freiburg im Breisgau, or Freiburg for less of a mouthful. Freiburg is in the Black Forest, and I have driven through parts of Freiburg twice prior to this trip, but I had never stopped to smell the roses.
  
  Freiburg is a college town, and this small city is one of the most culturally diverse cities I have seen in all of Germany. We arrived in enough time to spend a few hours wandering the streets and seeing the center of the city. We ended our day with some ice cream for Galiya, a milkshake for Austin, and a moment of pure, unfiltered happiness for me.
  
  I no longer want to travel just to travel, and these smaller weekend trips are becoming more of my desired getaway. My first year living in Europe everything was new and exciting, but like all things after time the shiny new toy feeling wears off. Don’t get me wrong, I would LOVE to spend more time traveling, but I don’t want to rush anymore.
  
  If I can’t travel “right” I would rather soak up the city I live in on my bike or in the mountains. I have enjoyed all of my travels, but the ones I remember most and look back on with longing were usually weekend getaways. It’s amazing what a forced change can do for your perception. I suddenly feel content staying right where I am in Germany.
  
  Prior to this trip I had been feeling lonely. These feelings come in waves for me, and while I confidently preach about feelings of depression or anxiety, something about the word “lonely” has a shameful attachment for me and I feel weak. Feeling depressed is a common feeling for humans, especially in the world we live in, but depression is something I can manage alone.
  
  Insert loneliness and suddenly I need other people, and that’s something I really struggle to navigate.
  
  I pride myself in my independence, and feeling lonely doesn’t make me any less independent, but it reminds me how important and essential human connections are. It’s ok to need and want to spend time with others, and just because I have a hard time finding people on my wavelength doesn’t mean I can sit by idly expecting people to fall into my lap.
  
  Ironically, I had been praying a lot the week before this trip for more meaningful friendships. My prayers were answered almost immediately, and Galiya and Austin were two people I knew I enjoyed on the surface level, but I had no idea I would grow to enjoy them on a personal and spiritual level during a short weekend getaway.
  
  I discovered they are both Christians, and while this is never a requirement for my friendships by any means, I find when my faith is shared with others the friendships tend to grow deeper, faster. Conversations become effortless, my walls of anxiety around my food issues break down, and I feel accepted exactly as I am.
  
  My soul cup was filled to the brim after our evening in Freiburg, and this was only our first day together. People often say they knew their spouse was the one right away, and I am beginning to believe it simply based off of how I feel when I am with people and immediately click with them. It doesn’t happen often for me, so when it does it’s monumental.
  
  Freiburg is an eclectic city, surrounded by beauty, but if I think of this city in the future I won’t think about the tree covered hills, the canals lined with bikes, or the circle of salsa dancers, I will think of the mysterious and powerful way God works in bringing people together at just the right time. Traveling with others is more about the company than the destination.
  
  I don’t want to live in my protected bubble of isolation anymore, I want to be vulnerable and open. I want to show my raw, broken soul to the world, and only those who want the best for me will move closer to the chaos that is my humanity. I am thankful for people like Galiya and Austin who unknowingly help me continue to heal my past relational traumas.
  
  The proceeding days away were just as lovely, and have set the bar very high for any trips I commit to in the next few months.
  
  Q: Have you had any heartwarming, unexpected experiences lately?
  
  | 24 Comments Tagged Brittanys Life Abroad, Freiburg, Germany, The Black Forest
- Murnau Meilen
  
  Posted at 2:00 PM by Brittany, on June 22, 2020
  
  Has anyone noticed the alliterations I have attempted for some of my titles the last few months? Todays post is a German alliteration meaning “Murnau miles.” Murnau is a town in Bavaria I have blogged about before, and although I biked to Staffelsee about two months ago (which is the lake right next to Murnau) I hadn’t yet biked directly to Murnau.
  
  A friend of mine reached out to me a bit ago asking me if I’d consider biking to Murnau, because she was in need of a magnet for her boyfriend. Due to the Coronavirus restrictions with her job she was unable to leave town. I had no immediate plans to bike to Murnau, but after she asked me the seed was planted.
  
  I took about three weeks off from biking longer distances after my previous longer biking adventure (which was less than ideal.) I was feeling refreshed after this break and decided it was time to go for another bike ride further than my usual 20 or so miles round trip. While trying to decide where to go, my friends request popped into my head.
  
  I set my sights on Murnau, packed a bag full of water and snacks, and off I went.
  
  The ride towards Murnau follows a path I had done before, but eventually comes to a fork. I had previously followed the fork to the right, but Murnau was to the left. Per usual, as I approached new territory my excitement grew and my energy surged. I had also just seen two naked men standing and chatting in the river enjoying a beer.
  
  New bike path, or naked men responsible for energy surge? One may never know. (Also, I only saw backsides…so this story is definitely PG-13.)
  
  Not the men, but same river.
  
  I wish I could say my desire to do a good deed and buy my friend (honestly she is more of an acquaintance) a magnet was the sole reason I wanted to bike to Murnau, but that would be a lie. It was a good initial reason, but the icing on the cake was when I decided I could also visit my favorite coffee roaster.
  
  I discovered the Murnauer Kaffeerösterei a handful of months ago when I bought a bag of beans from my local grocery.
  
  I’m a big fan of buying local coffee, but the first time I tried a blend from this company I didn’t like it. The coffee was too bright for me, and while the tasting notes were predominantly flavors I enjoy, there was a citrus note in the mix which I should have known I wouldn’t like. I gave the company another shot when I saw a Latin American blend – Nossa Senhora Brasilien.
  
  Tasting notes of nuts and chocolate – absolute perfection.
  
  This coffee has been my favorite coffee in all of Europe thus far. It’s so good I have a hard time not drinking a cup every morning, even on the days when my body tells me she doesn’t want coffee. I knew the roaster was in Murnau, but I didn’t think about actually going to see it until I went for this ride.
  
  The path to Murnau is fairly flat, and passes by rivers, small towns, livestock, and open rolling hills. My favorite.
  
  I arrived in Murnau after an hour and 45 minutes, walked around the city center, bought a magnet, and then headed down to Staffelsee to soak my feet. It was a warm afternoon and I momentarily thought about going for a swim in my birthday suit (inspired by my river friends), but there were too many people around. Although it’s legal to be nude in public here, my modesty always wins.
  
  After I sat by the lake for a while, I headed to the roastery.
  
  I didn’t plan to drink any coffee, it was already 1500 and if I drink coffee after noon I have a hard time sleeping, but I still wanted to see where all the magic happens. The building was a small trailer like building, similar to what might be seen if two shipping containers were made into a coffee shop. It was cute, with just the right amount of outdoor seating.
  
  I went inside to browse the merchandise, and I was surprised by how many people I saw. I thought about buying a mug, and I sat staring at it for 15 minutes (I wish I were joking, pray you’re never with me when I’m considering purchasing something) before deciding against it. I was going to buy a bag of coffee, but they were all whole bean.
  
  I am sure they grind the coffee for you, however I felt oddly intimidated by the language barrier with all the people around. I’m usually fine – but this day I decided I didn’t want to ask.
  
  I plan to return sometime for a morning cup at this adorable roastery, and maybe then I’ll buy some beans. If not, I always have my local grocer. The ride back to Garmisch was beautiful, but when I got about an hour away from home the weather changed for the worse. Torrential downpour, accompanied by thunder and lightening.
  
  I have never biked so fast on flat ground in my life.
  
  I prayed out loud over and over as if I were meditating on a mantra, asking God to keep the lightening away from my bike. I made it out of the storm unscathed, and I was exhausted by the time I got home. I managed 40 miles round trip by the time I made it back, and although I was tired I enjoyed every moment of this ride.
  
  Except for the stretch of ill weather.
  
  In typical Bavarian fashion, the weather flipped a switch at the drop of a hat. I wonder if the cows ever complain about this climate. I usually love it, as long as I’m not miles from home on a bike. This ride was my final long ride before returning to work full time (the hotel I work at opened last Monday), and it was the perfect way to bid adieu to a chill work schedule.
  
  I’m thankful my body felt so great on this bike ride. I never take for granted all that I am able to accomplish these days, and the difficult rides make the smoother rides that much more enjoyable. ❤
  
  Q: Have you ever gotten stuck in a storm with no option but to keep going? I thought about stopping in somewhere if the lightening got too bad.
  
  | 17 Comments Tagged Bavaria, Biking, Brittanys Life Abroad, Germany, Murnau
- Kamikaze Kramer
  
  Posted at 2:00 PM by Brittany, on June 18, 2020
  
  Kamikaze – “having or showing reckless disregard for safety or personal welfare.”
  
  Yea, that sounds about right. Where do I even being…
  
  Last September, my friend (and former roommate) MaryBeth and I decided to hike one of the mountains behind where we live. As I mentioned in this post, I had been eyeing this mountain since the day I arrived so we decided it was finally time. If you read the post I linked, you will know our attempt was unsuccessful, so we decided to try summiting the mountain from the other side – hoping it would be less scary.
  
  Spoiler: It was not.
  
  Cross marks the summit.
  
  I’ll start from the beginning. The day we gave the Kramer a second chance was beautiful. The sun was shining, the temperatures were warm, and it was a complete 180 in weather from our first attempt. I was feeling good, my body was ready, and I was excited to see a new to me route (the Kramer literally has never ending trails.)
  
  The route we chose this time was a bit longer in distance, but was supposed to be less sketchy once closer to the top. This route also has a well known Hütte called Stepbergalm a little over halfway up, and we had both been wanting to see it/grab a bite or a drink. The day we hiked was the day the Hütte reopened after temporary closure due to the Coronavirus.
  
  Everything was lining up – it was going to be a great day…
  
  Stepbergalm – 1592 m
  
  The hike to the Stepbergalm took us about 2 hours and 20 minutes. The trail up was beautiful and moderately inclined. I never felt unsafe, and my anxiety was low. I was smiling, and singing, and relishing in the beauty of the mountains surrounding me.
  
  I was also savoring this time with MaryBeth. I knew she would be moving out soon, and this was likely our last hike together in Garmisch. She moved to Ulm a couple weeks after this hike, which is just a short two hour-ish train ride from Garmisch. I plan to visit her before I move back to the states, and hope for one more weekend getaway together.
  
  MaryBeth was nothing short of a blessing to me while living in Germany. She was not only my roommate, but my best friend. She got me through difficult times at work, difficult times at “home,” and was an all around amazing adventure partner. We managed to travel to six countries together, and I know we will be travel buddies for life.
  
  Divagations aside, back to the story.
  
  Upon arrival at the Stepbergalm, we sat and savored a snack before completing the final push towards the cross at the summit. The estimated time to the summit was an hour and 45 minutes from the Stepbergalm. I was still feeling great, and was confident we would summit with ease.
  
  And thennnn the rocks got larger and looser and I suddenly regretted denying the use of hiking poles.
  
  This guy died on my birthday in 1930 – is this some kind of bad omen?
  
  Going up with loose rock isn’t usually an issue, it’s coming back down that makes me nervous. Naturally when going up, all I can think about is how stressful it will be to come back down. We reached a section of the trail that was surrounded by trees without any sudden drop offs, so imminent death was not a concern, but I was still getting anxious.
  
  We passed the section of large loose rocks and falsely believed we were in the clear. The path flattened out for a bit, and although the trail was thin, it was stable. We began laughing again, we settled into a comfortable pace, we savored the views we were starting to see, but then as quickly as it returned my ataraxia was swept back under the rug.
  
  We saw the cross off in the distance, but something in my gut told me this was not going to be a cake walk to the summit. The slim path was now becoming a roller coaster like track of ups and downs and the loose gravel was back. I suddenly became very aware of how high I was, and how unsafe I was starting to feel. Kamikaze Kramer.
  
  We quickly learned it didn’t matter which route we took to the top, they were all equipped with a frightening trail towards the final push. Our pace slowed to a crawl, and at one point I was literally immobile, clinging to a large rock. I began laughing, similar to the beginning stages of hysteria, and told MaryBeth I wasn’t sure I could keep moving.
  
  I managed to push past my rock of safety, but my body was shaking as if I had spent all night out in the cold. I don’t often feel this amount of fear when I am hiking, but all I could think about was how one wrong step would send me slipping, and the exiguous trail left me envisioning the worst.
  
  And then, just when we thought it couldn’t get any worse we saw her. The sheer rock wall to the summit. Fully equipped with loose gravel. The summit was surrounded by people, and I wondered if any of them had to revert back to infancy like MaryBeth and I while crawling up the side of a mountain.
  
  I could feel the eyes of those at the summit watching me move at the pace of a sloth, and I wondered if they could sense my fear. If we had been a different species of animal they would have been able to smell my freight from miles away.
  
  We decided to skip the sheer rock wall, and promptly sat at the base of the final stretch. I once again had no desire to “touch the cross” indicating I reached the summit. We had reached the elevation of the summit, and as far as I am concerned we summited. We sat at the base of the cross for a good ten minutes anticipating the descent.
  
  We sat at the base of the cross because we were both too fearful to move back down what we had just gone up.
  
  I prayed for us (yeah, we were that scared) and off we went. I scooted on my butt for the portion of the trail that has a sharp drop with loose rocks, and when I found my way back to my rock of safety I felt relief. I struggled more going up, and MaryBeth struggled more going down. She became immobile at one point, but eventually mustered the courage to continue.
  
  We finally made it back to the first sketchy path just past the Stepbergalm and after seeing the summit I no longer thought this area was sketchy. My perspective was immediately altered. We made it to the Stepbergalm just as they were closing, and our hopes of having a post hike drink blew away with the wind between the trees.
  
  We sat on the hill by the Stepbergalm to eat some food, and to mentally prepare for the two and a half hours of hiking we had left.
  
  At this point I managed to switch my laughter from hysterical to “what the hell did we just do.” I couldn’t help but wonder why no one else I’ve spoken to has been phased by the sketchiness of the summit. Were we the only two people to find this hike terrifying at the top? I never realized how afraid of heights I was until this hike.
  
  Needless to say, I will never hike this mountain again, and I no longer have a desire to hike the Zugspitze (Germanys tallest mountain, which is also in my backyard.) I have realized my preferred hiking is the kind where I don’t feel my life is in danger. I don’t enjoy kamikaze hiking!
  
  Most people wouldn’t be as dramatic as I have been in this post, but these were my feelings throughout this hike.
  
  The views from the “safe” part near the summit were mind-blowing, and the valley where the Stepbergalm lives is like something out of the Sound of Music. I would happily hike to the Stepbergalm again, just to sit and savor the valley, but 10/10 would not do the summit ever again.
  
  As I get older I have become more in tune with my intuition and my “gut voice” when I feel unsafe. This hike had my gut doing backflips like a gold medal gymnast, and I was happy to skip the last 5 minutes of this hike. I regret nothing, and this is now a comical memory I become overly dramatic about when discussing with my peers.
  
  I’ll never forget the Kamikaze Kramer.
  
  Q: Would you need to go right next to the cross to consider this a summit, or would you still feel you completed the hike without the final few steps?
  
  | 29 Comments Tagged Bavaria, Brittanys Life Abroad, Hiking, Kramer
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