Let's say you live in Germany. For years. How do you know when you've integrated?
Is it when you learn to order a beer and a bratwurst? When you wear socks with your Birkenstocks. Or when you decide to go north in the summer, instead of the south?
Yes, we spent a week on the Baltic coast, and it was swell. Sure, it was cold and windy, but we didn't wear socks with our sandals. Though, the thought crossed my mind, so maybe I'm progressing level by level toward integration.
But being cold and windy doesn't ruin it. It makes it better.
We pulled up our pants and ran knee-deep into the cold Baltic blue, and then ran back out. And then back in.
We dug and played in the smooth, white Ostsee sand.
And when we needed to immerse ourselves in water without shivering, the hotel pool was always there... during family-designated hours from 10-12 and 2-4. Also, I should note, a very sensibly German structure.
We ate pizza on a patio by the sea, braving wind, rain and the sun, which we weren’t altogether prepared for.
How did we get there? You probably didn't ask, but I'm going to tell you anyway.
We used our Deutschland tickets – that subsidized godsend that allows you to travel on any bus, tram, or train in Germany (except for the fancy bullet trains).
We cruised in on local trains until a little spot called Bad Doberan, then we switched to a narrow-gauge steam train, which, after nine weeks (due to my slothful blog writing), the 3-year-old is still raving about.
And when we're there, and this is why it feels like we've integrated, the Ostsee resort towns have a great vibe. It’s not a party place or crowded with tourists.
It's relaxed and chill. And filled with Germans, like locals, and foreigners like us, who’ve gotten it. An example: Our friendly Greek waiter spent a few years in Berlin, but quit the big city for work on the Ostsee and hasn’t left.
And it's almost a secret. Because who but people who live here would know that you’re supposed to go north during the summer.
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