the big life.

“there is no passion to be found in playing small in settling for a life that is less than the one you are capable of living. “

what wonderful, beautiful words these are. and how hard are they to manifest if you are not madiba. or someone similarly fabulous. but then again, isn't that what he is saying – that we should all be that amazing.

i am so tired of my life as it is right now. and yes, i know on the grand sceme of things that is ungrateful and petty and my own problem, my own fault at the end of the day.

i found the picture above tonight and while a bit cheesy, it seems to sum up what i am longing for right now. my feet in warm sand and sparkling light over my head and someone to laugh with, to hug me hard, and kiss me even harder.

the nasty, enticing smell of a big city after a hot summer rain.

the adhan. spices in my nostrils.

the exhaustion that sets in after a day of exploring a new world.

freezing cold and the knowledge that your skin glows in the light of candles and the vapors of mulled wine. whenever i used to come home after a night out with friends in winter, everything was so quiet, it felt like i was the last person on earth and it was equally scary and welcoming at the same time.

i long for the smells that have been the same since childhood. that are so familiar and so new because now i'm a grown-up.

the smell of jasmine and the noise of traffic.

seeing animals i have only ever seen in books before.

not being able to sleep because the crickets are so loud.

speaking 3 words of a foreign language but being understood.

speaking my mother tongue and being understood.

making new friends amongst old.

surprising myself.

laughing at myself.

laughing out loud.

being able to say i don't want to let you go. being able to let go.

being scared and brave about the same thing and at the same time.

making new friends and feeling immediately 'arrived'.

rain and darkness.

summer heat. snow flakes on my skin melting.

feeling alive again.

living that big life that i am meant to live.

travelling home. two ways.

at this point i am comfortable to say that the only thing i like about the French is their macarons and their champagne.

 

after 32 hours of travelling i made it back to cape town. the part when i ate all the ladurée macarons, my last euros could buy, and drank all the champagne at the business class lounge was fun. the part when i was stuck on the plane for an extra three hours at the airport till 2am wasn’t fun. neither the part when i subsequently missed my connecting flight and was put on another one that was also two hours late. and neither when this one was also stuck at the airport for another hour due to a dent, which may or may not have been caused by a poor little bird (captain’s words, not mine – fuck that bird!). did i mention that they put me in the last row, middle seat, and that air france managed to lose my luggage yet again?!
yeah, all so not fun and even the macarons barely made up for it. but as they did, i need to thank marie for telling me about the ladurée stand at the airport. i don’t think it would have even occurred to me to look for it, if she hadn’t told me.
so now i’m back and my luggage too with a little delay. i’m sick and exhausted, emotionally and physically. however i am happy to be back in the sun, with my solar powered fairy lights and a big pot of freshly grown basil on the balcony.
but for all of you who were hopeful that once i travelled back to cold, dark germany in the winter and would be inclined to change my mind about moving there, i have to disappoint you. despite the less than fortunate circumstances i liked it. 

i liked that the people in shops and restaurants were really friendly and generally knew what they were doing. a large number of girls sported an unfortunate choice of eyebrows (as in none, replaced by a black marker line), but while it made them look a bit scary, they were still all really friendly and i think it might only be a regional thing.

oh how i loved that things run on time! except very busy surgeons when they meet you for dinner, but how often will that really become an issue in the future?!

my nephew asked me when i was going to come visit him again (i didn’t get to see him this time around) and so i told him about my plans to move to hamburg where he lives. he was so freaking excited and just kept on asking for real? like really?
so i have to move now before he turns into a snotty teenager who couldn’t give a damn about where his aunt lives. 

 

but seriously i am also moving back for the love of pasta. i mean look at this…

i almost cried when i saw the wall of pasta at karstadt and tried to figure out how i can take all some back. in the end i didn’t take any because my bag was full, but i have planned to return there immediately when i move back and buy all some of it.

last but not least: germany is pretty when the skies are blue and yes, even in winter they sometimes are.

relax, don't do it.

i’m still getting used to the south african winter. after a few winters of being incredibly cold i learned my lesson and got a good duvet and started to wear proper shoes and a jacket. before i was one of those grumpy, cold people, stomping my flip flop clad foot: but this is africa, why do i need to wear a jacket?! but now i learned and the weather and i are fine.
however the work seasonality is still a strange one for me. like so many other people here, i too work in a seasonal job – production. that means long, work filled days during summer and short days, filing and picking up three phones calls per day in winter. i know i should enjoy less work and while still in summer i do look forward to the winter season. before i usually come up with a list of all the incredible things i want to do with my newfound freedom free time. last year’s winter list included:

give my flat a make-over.
give my wardrobe a make-over.
lose 5kgs and make my abs visible.
learn french.
blog every.single.day. and spellcheck too.
learn to cook new meals that do not include pasta. okay, that would never be on any list of mine.
write the novel. oh yes, i too have that plan, don’t we all?
write real letters to friends and family at home.

guess what is on this year’s list?

Pastaholic goes hunting.

I’m really loving the South African winter right now. Especially when it looks like this…

I didn’t love it so much anymore when all those exciting mushrooms we found, were so slimy when cooked that the sauce has a gluey consistency and we all wish we would have eaten the homemade pasta on its own. The day was saved by homemade tart to fill our bellies instead, lots of red wine to wash it down with, and Catan to make us forget the horror of it.

Needless to say the next time I want a mushroom sauce my hunting ground shall be Woolies & Co.

Capepole.

The nice thing about being single is that I can a) spend too much money on Country Road pyjama pants without being judged and b) don’t have to care that they are the unsexiest item of clothing I now own. They are soft, comfy, and warm and go perfectly with my equally unattractive sheep skin slippers. I’m not wearing them out of defiance and to show the world that I don’t care I’m single. I NEED them. Something I finally accepted by taking ‘Winter Essentials in SA 101’ after freezing throughout my first Cape Town winter. Same goes for a cashmere pillow. Essential!

The trinity of winter essentials.

People look at me like I’m a crazy person when I tell them – I have never been as cold during any winter as I have been in Cape Town. Yes, that does include 19 winters in Bad Hersfeld, 2 in Hamburg, 1 in Cologne and 6 in New York. Cape Town takes it home, winner of the coldest winter ever contest. No, I’m not kidding. Cape Town winters are just particularly nasty for me. And just because there are good reasons for it i.e. much more rain = wet creeping cold, bad isolation, not enough choices in quality cashmere jerseys; doesn’t make it okay or any easier to bear.
Admittedly I get cold easily. As previously discussed I do think it’s the reason why I started doing Bikram yoga. It doesn’t matter whether I practise or teach, it gives me an hour and a half of not freezing at some part of my body. Imagine my sorrow when I came to the studio Friday evening for class to find out that we had ran out of gas and I would have to take a cold class. By the way – cold class is a proper term in this case, not me being whiny. So we started with 29 degrees, which at best could be described as balmy. Glad to know I’m not the only one who is addicted to the heat fix. I had to tell people to stop giving me dirty looks as the lack of warmth and sweat really wasn’t my fault and I was the one, freezing most in my little shorts.
Saturday morning was marginally better as the gas was renewed, but the heat came on too late for my taste so I was still moping. Sunday evening I was finally a happy girl again, as I had ventured to Constantia for a class and the room was steaming hot so people actually complained after class. Obviously not me, being the teacher’s pet and asking them to turn it up even more. Yes, I often do get annoyed with myself...

Winter view from my window.

I briefly wondered whether it was overkill to take my cashmere poncho to wrap myself afterwards, but it turned out it wasn’t. Due to the stupidity of leaving my lights on, I had to first beg my uncle to come and then wait for him for 40 minutes in a chilly car. Poncho came in handy. So would the slippers. Unfortunately I assumed people would think me even crazier if I’d wear them out, so I left them at home and warm.
It’s at least warm in my flat as last year I managed to find the unthinkable: A flat, not only across the street from work, but with a built-in heater and a mezzanine level for my bed right under the ceiling, which keeps

toasty all throughout. Happiness, because believe it or not once the cold inside is gone, I quite enjoy watching the mist, rain, clouds of Cape Town winter outside.