So, this is Christmas...

Where did this term go? I’m sat on the ICE leaving Stuttgart on the way to Frankfurt Airport. (despite the fact I’m posting from Amsterdam!) And I’m weirdly apprehensive about coming home, for no apparent reason. Lucy informs me that this is what is more commonly known as reverse culture shock.  At the moment I’m in strange frame of mind, I’m bizarrely excited by the though of being able to have a sausage roll or a pie. Amy laughed a lot when I told her how much I wanted pie.  There was a point last year when my section of the freezer didn’t entirely consist of pie and Ben and Jerrys, but neither of us can remember when. 

I am also looking forward to making up my hug deficit, Christmas dinner, English television (tonight I shall be parked in front of the Big Bang Theory claiming I am “unpacking” I shall then binge on How I met you mother, whilst playing with my new tablet, eating proper sausage and demanding Apfelsaftschorle…. Wait! That’s German… hmmm… I foresee an Aldi visit in my near future.  Oooo and also getting my room ready for the visit of the Hannah!!!! EEEEE!!

Anyway, I have survived, learned a lot made new friends, learnt the odd spot of Schwabisch, navigated my few minor catastrophes, dealt with Homesickness by means of tea and Friday morning porridge. I understand what people are saying to me most of the time now, though they are all as bonkers as we are, they too have a casual dislike towards the French,  they have 375 different types of bread. NOBODY needs that much bread. Especially as most of is as one person most eloquently put it, crust bombs.

I have also discovered that most of our German stereotypes are untrue, their bureaucracy, ( a word I can’t spell), is as messy as ours, their buses are as punctual as ours, the very notion of the famous efficiency is a lie and they have well developed and complex sense of humour, in fact  here in the south they even understand, and have been known to giggle at, our own very British brand of humour. Usually followed by pointing out that am a little bit weird, at some point I’ll get round to pointing out that even Brits think I’m weird too… or maybe not.

The stereotypes that hold fast however are sauerkraut and beer. I loathe cabbage. LOATHE IT. And they it like its chocolate, to illustrate teaching Christmas lessons this week, I was explaining Brussel sprouts and why nobody is sure why we actually eat them, after telling them the German word “Rosenkohl” one boy proceeded to announce “Aber die sind voll Lecker!” (But they’re totally delicious!”) I swear I didn’t headdesk.  Or follow up with “Nur in die Land die liebt Sauerkraut!” No that absolutely did NOT happen, much.

Anyway I am hurtling at 200Kmh toward Mannheim where I must change so that later today I can put my feet back on Northern (!) English soil, hug my mother and run into the nearest purveyor of pastry based goodness buy them out of sausage rolls, get into the car, on the left hand side(!!!) before talking myself to sleep. 

Until I get round to rounding up what happened in the last two weeks,

Merry Christmas,

Beth x