Bremen: die Stadt der Rathäuser

I am enjoying my week+ in Bremen.  I've been here several times before, but on full-family visits.  This time it is just Pops and me.  Lara and I coordinated this visit to overlap with time that her family would be away so that we could minimise the amount of time that Pops would be with a professional carer.  Pops doesn't need active care 24/7, but he needs someone to be generally around to make sure he is alright.  A side effect of this different kind of visit is that I am getting to know the city in the way that I usually would when I travel.  

Lara knows the city, has a car, and is a great cook, so when I am here we are mostly socialising at home, with occasional errands or meals (both usually by car) out at her favourites.  This visit, I have more time and no direction, so I am doing what I normally do: taking transit and exploring areas on foot.  It makes me feel so much more connected to the city.  On the first day I noticed a difference in my perception of Bremen: it's a lot more diverse, and has a lot more going on, than I had realised before.  Lottie also came for a visit and I took her on a tour, which meant connecting the various dots of previous trips together, as I was navigating us around by tram and foot.  It created a new, more joined-up mental map of the city for me, and I quite like it.  It's not Berlin or London or anything like that, but it has more character and breadth than I'd previously supposed.

What's been difficult has been seeing Pops' decline.  It's noticeable.  More forgetful, quicker to dip into repetition.  His facts are getting sloppier (he thinks he lived in Vegas for over 30 years; the "Prophet" of Whitby has become Mother's in one of his go-tos - not sure what he's conflating there), and he's physically slower and smaller.  The worst thing, though, is the vacant look in his eyes.  Sometimes it comes across as confusion or boredom, but many times it's like he's just done.  There's rarely a sparkle there.  Even when he's telling the story about "Mother's" it's like he's looking at some distant point behind me, as if he doesn't even care about the story, he just doesn't know what else to do but tell it.  There have been a few vibrant moments, but it's like he's slipping into a void.  Which I guess, in a way, he is.  I'm thankful that he's not angry, aggressive or (for the most part) paranoid.  But love him or loathe him (who could?!), my dad was always a lively character, and that is now fading along with his memory.

I am so thankful my Dad is here for this phase of his life though.  We've been mostly together, but he's gone out to do his own thing from time to time, because he could.  One, he has old enough knowledge of this city that he can remember how to get to his hideaways and back, but two, there are walkable neighbourhoods and public transport that allow him to have that independence.  He goes to the local bakery, the corner store, Netto, his favourite Irish pub or the library when he needs something, or is just bored and wants to get out of the house.  If he were still in America, he'd be stuck at home, all day, every day, with maybe a weekly visit to the nearest Walmart when the local senior transport was serving his area.  I can't imagine how much more his mind would've atrophied without this level of autonomy and stimulation.

Mit gemischten Gefühlen aus Bremen,

Shaun 

The old and the new on Bremer Marktplatz.

I originally planned a side trip for Pops and me to visit Lottie (and Wuppertal!), but when the reality of his condition set in, I cancelled on the morning.  Amazing Lottie and her husband discussed it and decided that she should come here last minute instead, despite having plans with their three kids and in-laws on the books.  Friends like that do not come into your life often.  Treasure them.

Bremer Roland has been looking over the town square since Joe Biden was born in 1404.  ("The Roland statue at Bremen is the oldest surviving example...the symbol of civic liberty and freedom spread to other cities and has become a symbol of the new Europe." - Wikipedia)

Since I've had more time in Bremen, I am doing one of my favourite city activities and checking out some of the local museums.  First on the list was the Paula Modersohn-Becker Museum.  It's the first museum in the world that was dedicated to the work of a female artist.  Apparently Hitler was not very impressed with it, but I was.

Next up was the Weserburg Museum of Modern Art, a mini-Tate, as it were.  There was some great stuff, but what I really loved was that there was this surprisingly large venue in the middle of the city that had so few visitors*.  For me, there is an occasional connection with a specific piece of work when I visit a museum, but mostly I just love the combined experience of place, people and art.  I've never been to a museum before that had so much on offer and allowed so much time and space to take it in.  I had most galleries to myself for the duration.  No silent ballet around others between viewing the works and reading the descriptions.  No pressure at all to move on from something I was taking in.  I was able to watch the entirety of 'We Are Here!' from Utopia Now (fabulous) without the distracting shuffle of people in and out of the room.

Tomorrow I plan to go to the Kunsthalle, but that will come after the publication of this edition.

*What I also love is that there is sufficient state funding to allow this.

Pops showing a brief moment of vim this evening at Gallo.  He loved that the waiter ("Alberto's man") recognised him and made sure we were looked after.

London?  Berlin?  Bremen?  They've got more in common than I thought.

Winter is (still) here

It's been an awfully long Winter.  And I don't just mean the 900 years of Tory government.  Like 2011-12, 2023-24 has been one of those years where Winter came in early Autumn and is still with us.  I love low, grey weather - I am happiest in a jumper and no sunglasses.  But even this many months of dreary, cold, wet weather is too much.  Will it ever end?

At least politically, it has finally ended.  Britain is basking in the sunlight of hope, if not actual sunlight.  Football might even finally be coming home.  But while I am happy to see the back of the Tories and a change in tone and political leaning, I really don't think life in Britain will be much different at the end of this parliament that at the start.  There will be some good-press stick-it-to-'em tax rises, and there might be a bit more money for the NHS, education and local government, but there is no civic or political will to change the fundamentals of broken Britain.  At best, we will see tinkering in the right direction over the next five years.  But that was the choice we had on 04 July, and we got the best option.  At least we're not in America's shoes.

While we haven't been able to escape the political tempest on these sceptred isles, we did get a break from the meteorological one.  Over Sushil's birthday we had a sunny holiday in Nairobi and Zanzibar.  New places for both of us, a little bit of gritty urban exploration followed by some relaxing downtime on hot, sandy beaches - and an upgrade to business class on the return flight - turned out to be a great break far away from it all.

Fingers crossed that hopeful sunlight manifests itself faster and stronger than anyone thinks.

Cheers,

Shaun

Nairobi is the 'New York of East Africa', a busy, buzzing metropolis full of opportunity and freedom for millions of people from Kenya and beyond.  It's notably in the developing phase of its history, with gleaming skyscrapers next to decrepit piles, and lush, gated residential estates lining potholed roads, but it has the energy of a place on the up.  We were there before the recent protests, though, so not sure if there's a different mood in the air now.

There are entrepreneurs everywhere, including those taking advantage of the TikTok economy.  Good lighting and cameras are expensive, so aspiring influencers can hire them from dozens of teams who line the streets of central Nairobi.

We made it to the top of Mount Kilimanjaro!

My brand new sunbrella got to go on its first holiday with us.

First sunset in Zanzibar.

The turtle sanctuary in Zanzibar. Who doesn't love turtles?

One of the commonest things to do in Northern Zanzibar is a boat trip to the 'Maldives of Zanzibar', a gorgeous area of sandbanks and coral.  While it was genuinely beautiful, I was not prepared for the volume of boats that were doing the same exact route to the same exact Instagram hotspots.  When you see the pictures online, it looks like they are in pristine solitude.  What you don't see is that behind them there are 30 other boats full of tourists positioning themselves just so to get the same misleading image.  And we were there in low season, I can't imagine it at the peak.

And then the dolphins - the poor dolphins.  When any were spotted, all 30 boats would speed towards them and encircle them so people could jump into the water to take a snapshot.  They must’ve felt like they were being hunted and been terrified.  It was awful to see and I’m horrified I played any part in it.

Stone Town, the old colonial part of the capital, was more my vibe.  Touristed, yes, but lived-in, walkable and lively.  We opted to take a female-guided walking tour.  Despite the many Western visitors, Zanzibar is conservative and Muslim; female empowerment is low.  Our guide was great, clever and funny, and surprisingly candid about her life and the reality of women on the island.  She's still single because she wants to find a husband who will allow her to work after they are married.  In a sense, and within her paradigm, that is a sort of empowerment.  Ten or so years ago there were no female guides, and now there are more than 20.  Progress can be slow, but progress there is.

Memorial at the former slave market in Zanzibar. Arab slave trade, not European, some are quick to point out. Happening while under a British protectorate, less quick on that bit.

Wishful thinking in Stone Town.

Prison Island never actually hosted any prisoners, it ended up being used for quarantine instead, but is now a sanctuary for giant tortoises.

Final sunset in Zanzibar.