The buildings before me appear to be dancing to the beat of their own song, much like the city that contains their movement. Serving as the state capital of North Rhine-Westphalia, Düsseldorf had no definition for me. We were strangers until I danced with the city’s Gehry buildings. The work of American Frank O. Gehry, the three waving complexes make up the center for arts and media in Düsseldorf. Each piece bears its own identity, shape and color. They set Düsseldorf apart from other German cities. They define a city with no preconceived definitions for visitors like me.

The Gehry Buildings reside in Düsseldorf’s MedienHafen, otherwise the Media Harbor section of the city. This corner of Düsseldorf bears no semblance to fanaticized images of Germany with lederhosen and quiet cobbled alleyways. Rather it has become a center for creative architecture. Several international architects have played a role in reconstructing this old Rhine port area, including Claude Vasconi, Steven Holl and Joe Coenen. Empty warehouses now house television channels, radio stations and ad agencies, gifting the area with its media defined name.

My guide Renata keeps driving home the point about this section of Düsseldorf. “Everything is like a ship.” Düsseldorf might be trying to find definition by creating something new and different in the old, but as Renata enforces, even the MedienHafen can’t escape what it once was. The old port area lurks behind new buildings shaped like ships, almost defining itself in a past memory. 

The Media Harbor section of Düsseldorf leads along the Rhine. In the early evening hours, the Rhine Promenade bathes in a gentle light. Past bars and restaurants, I find myself staring up at the Rhine Tower.

Measuring 240 meters from the very bottom to the tip-top, the tower is certainly not Düsseldorf’s prettiest puzzle piece. However it is all a part of Düsseldorf’s definition. I climb up to the Panorama deck, 168 meters above the city and the Rhine. 

Some daredevils lie flat on the observation glass for the ultimate act of Düsseldorf’s trust. The hope is that the Rhein Turm will hold up and not drop you, but I don’t put my trust in a city so easily. I observe others appreciating the views of the city and the river, mostly over a cold beer. 

The swaying sensation is hard to shake once I come back down from Düsseldorf’s best view. I seek out the Altstadt perhaps to cure the vertigo. Düsseldorf’s old town is an appropriate area to calm nerves as it is home to the longest bar in the world. While not just one bar, the saying comes from the over 260 bars, pubs and restaurants standing side by side in the area.

Spilling out into the streets, I notice everyone has tiny quarter liter glasses of dark frothy beer in their hands. The favorite beer of Rhinelanders and those in Düsseldorf is easily Altbier. In fact it is the only type of beer you can order at the five microbreweries in town. Simply called “Alt”, the dark, top-fermented beer upholds the old Purity Laws dating back to 1516 with an emphasis on keeping the focus on natural ingredients. I slug back an Alt at Zum Schlüssel, one of the oldest breweries in the city from 1850. Again Düsseldorf defines itself. In a world of microbreweries and innumerable types of brews to sample, this city only has one. What that says about Düsseldorf can only be understood while sipping on the dark brew. 

And at the same time, Altbier isn’t the only liquid of the city. Killepitsch liquor also hails from Düsseldorf. While some say the liquor composed of herbs and 40% alcohol acts in a medicinal fashion, others explain Killepitsch as a fine compliment to a hearty meal. I pop my head in the window of Et Kabüffke. The establishment serves Killepitsch through this tiny window. With one taste, the thick liquid sends quivers throughout my body as it burns down my throat. While I question the medicinal explanation for Killepitsch’s existence, the sip is another defining Düsseldorf moment, a burning indication that this city can be just as strong as the others. 

With a bit of a Killepitsch hangover, I make my way to Schloss Benrath the next morning. Built as a pleasure and hunting palace for Elector Carl Theodor, the bubble gum pink structure sits on 60 hectares of parkland for the public’s use. The main building is a bit of an empty shell. Most of the furniture and its contents were lost, but that doesn’t mean Schloss Benrath can’t tell a good tale. As my guide explains how Carl Theodor used each room, she drops the ultimate bomb at the end of the tour. Carl never even spent the night in his palace. It merely acted as a symbol of his power and wealth.

While it seems so wasteful to build a palace and never use it, that is just one of Düsseldorf’s defining tales. From my window at the Hyatt Regency, I attempt to define my Düsseldorf experience. The morning light begins to wake up the Rhine Tower and the rest of the city. It is a clarifying light, reminding me that just as the sunrises each day, Düsseldorf will continue to define itself for strangers like me.

Have you been to Düsseldorf?

My visit to Düsseldorf was made possible by airberlin and Düsseldorf Tourismus. 

“And then I found my voice,” she says ever so casually. Musical capability, especially in terms of having a voice, does not come easy. The character of Musetta in La Bohéme, played by Elisabeth Selle, sits before me at the Operanhaus Dusseldorf. The performance is set to begin in just a handful of minutes, but she is cool, calm and collected. I guess when you casually find your voice, you aren’t too worried about losing it. Her face is ready for the stage, but her attire and manner are not. She sips on coffee and recounts her character tonight, a role of love, joy, passion and jealousy.

Elisabeth is just one of the key players at the Dusseldorf Opera House. I sit among others in the cast’s backstage cafeteria. It’s a strange sensation to sit a few tables away from those you will see on stage in a few minutes. Dusseldorf’s Opera boasts one of the largest singer ensembles in the world. Located just on the edge of the historic center, a night at the opera in Dusseldorf is never too far or unobtainable.

Tours are offered of the Opernhaus Dusseldorf, inviting those who never found their voices to take the stage of their imaginations. I stand where the singers, choir and extras will be tonight, envisioning their view. They gaze out into a sea of people and red. The Dusseldorf Operahaus adorns in stylistic elements from the 1950s.

The tour leads past haphazard props and sets, those that strangely look put together even though they are backstage and not at the forefront. The stories behind them can almost be heard in the air, but tonight’s story is most easily felt. 

I wander around several pieces of furniture at the center of the stage. As tonight’s performance is La Bohéme by Giacomo Puccini, the setting is bohemian Paris. The opera hones in on the heart breaking and making relationship behind Rodolfo, the poet and Mimi. The duo of Marcello and Musetta add another power couple plotline to this operatic love story. 

The stage is covered in what seems like hundreds of pieces of paper. I walk as though I am on eggshells, wondering how the performers don’t slip and slide while trying to belt out their lines. They are singing the story on top of what are usually stories in the making. 

The tour ends in dramatic fashion. We head for the basement of the opera house. Visitors can comb through 50,000 costumes, ranging from giant golden eagles to plain dresses. Each is not just a piece of clothing by a key component to the performance taking off for audiences nightly. 

The curtain is calling, signaling that I must take my seat. As I watch characters like Marcello and Musetta, I recognize that I am observing a bit of a miracle. Those on stage have found their voices, perhaps all their lives or at some defining point like Elisabeth. It is a musical marvel, one where the audience claps until their hands turn red because they understand just how difficult finding a voice can be. This is something to clap about in Dusseldorf, a nightly phenomenon where voices are found.

My visit to the Dusseldorf Opera House was made possible by airberlin and the Deutsche Oper am Rehin. My thoughts and opinions are always my own. 

I arrived to Berlin on two hours of sleep in 48 hours, clearly at my best. Perhaps due to my lack of sleep, I saw Berlin in a two-day daze. From appreciating the breeze while biking through Tiergarten to feasting on Vietnamese food as my first meal with Anjelica Huston lookalikes at neighboring tables, I came home and wondered what was real and what was a figment of my jetlagged, zombie-like imagination.

Throughout my time in the city, the words “trendy”, “dynamic” and “hip” could be heard through every nonexistent sleep cycle. Berlin did seem too cool for me, the sort of place where you will stand awkwardly at an art gallery, nodding as if you know what you should be seeing. And before I could fall asleep on Berlin and think it to be some place I will never understand, I pulled out my camera and started snapping. Sometimes when we are transfixed on trying to see what we should, we forget just what it is we are seeing. A city twenty years after the fall of the Berlin Wall and the reunification of Germany is in a constant state of reinvention, of transforming one hip area into another like skipping stones.

My camera’s first shots of capturing cool Berlin came in parts of the Mitte and Prenzlauer Berg neighborhoods. We pause outside of Café Cinema where a woman with that purple-red hair puffs her cigarette while conversing with a friend. They both seemingly have nowhere else to be on a Monday morning. They are the essence of Berlin cool. 

Our guide is always quick to tell us that whatever we are capturing behind the lens is nothing someone hasn’t before. “You will find this in every tourist guide.” He laughs as though to dull the pain of essentially saying, “You aren’t seeing anything new.” We approach the old timey nightclub Clärchens Ballhaus as an artist paints the idyllic courtyard scene. The guide zips on past. There’s no need to stop. I disagree and marvel at a scene of great creation all around, the simple act of one of the 4,000 artists in the city painting. 

Berlin is home to over 400 galleries. That doesn’t include the 200 non-commercial showrooms and off spaces. And while Berlin can seem so above me, it can let me in at the same time to see what I think. Galerie Zink does just that. On display until September is an exhibition of Marcel van Eeden. Of course, the two large pieces I’m drawn to are titled, “Untitled”. 

The gallery shows us some of their other represented artists, including Rinus Van de Velde. The work shows the artist planning his expedition to the Himalayas, with the question mark as to whom the artist may be. Again, Berlin is a puzzle, even from within an art gallery’s space. 

On a bike tour of Berlin, those images of the city I had seen for years on television and in print all become that much more real. My two wheels grind to a halt in front of a piece of the wall. Running directly through the Mitte neighborhood, the division separated the East and the West. It’s hard to imagine a dictatorship putting up a wall on the night of August 12, 1961, but that was Berlin’s reality. Whichever side you slept on that night is where you would remain. 209 lives were lost trying to cross this division. 

Marking the end of the dictatorship, the Berlin Wall would come down on November 9, 1989, when I was busy renaming myself “Suzy” instead of “Suzanne” and building different walls, those of the pillow fort variety.

Berlin can disappear on you, suggesting its complex history. I experience the hat trick at the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe. Located in the Tiergarten district, the memorial is the work of Peter Eisenman.

It features 2,711 concrete pillars at various heights. They lay out on a base more akin to waves. You can disappear in an instant, only very superficially how many Jews must have felt. It is a dizzying and disorienting experience, no doubt the architect’s intention.

I thought that Berlin was a dark place as a whole before arriving in my jetlag daze. And while there are sides to the city you can’t help but experience those chills of history, there are also those that make you feel strangely at home. I head for KaDeWe, the city’s historic department store. Opened in March of 1907, Kaufhaus Des Westens was revolutionary for its time with five floors of goods and services. It became a symbol of new beginnings when the war ended and boomed when the wall came down. I find that Berlin can’t be all sunglasses inside. At KaDeWe, even mustard leans more toward cute than cool.

My camera’s battery is starting to go, just as my body’s battery fades. It’s nine o’clock but the sky would have you believe the evening is just beginning. At the little stand Bergmann Curry, I take a last look at a Berlin staple, currywurst. Essentially a cut up bratwurst smothered in ketchup and seasoned with curry powder, the dish is unquestionably Berlin. Herta Heuwer was supposedly the first to add curry to her bratwurst. British soldiers gave food-rationed West Berliners the spice. As I eat my currywurst on a paper tray with a tiny wooden fork, I realize Berlin isn’t too cool for me. Any city that cuts up a glorified hotdog, douses it in ketchup and curry and calls it their dish is certainly for anyone. It is a city trying to find itself and perhaps we are all just trying to find ourselves in it. Goodnight Berlin.

Have you been to Berlin?

This trip was sponsored by airberlin and VisitBerlin.

My bags are partially packed and I’m on my way. Besides being a ball of stress, balancing work and packing problems, I’m pleased to reveal where I am going next. On behalf of One Travel, I will be traveling with AirBerlin across Europe over the course of the next few weeks. I am heading to Berlin, Stockholm and Palma de Mallorca with AirBerlin as I blog about the adventure.

While I have been to Stockholm before, I’m excited to experience Berlin and Mallorca, two new destinations for me. In Berlin we will be biking, gallery hopping and touring some of the city’s neighborhoods. After a few days, we will then head to Stockholm for my second look at the Vasa Museum and a little boating around the archipelago. Finally, we will head to Mallorca for a bit of sun, but not too much for this redhead. Somebody pinch me.

Berlin

 Two visits to Germany in one-year makes me feel a bit spoiled. With my love for schnitzel, I will no doubt be consuming as much German cuisine as I can in a short few days. Perhaps it is my German roots, but I have always enjoyed my travels in the country. There is just something so sing-song about when a German says “Morgen!” that gets me going in the morning.  If you have any Berlin tips or suggestions for me, I would love to hear them. I have a bit of free time on the schedule to spend with Germany’s capital.

Stockholm

I remember being utterly blown away by Stockholm. The Swedish Princess had just married her prince of a trainer and the city was still recovering. It was so beautiful and warm in June. By the looks of the weather forecast, Stockholm might pour rain on this visit, but I have a feeling I won’t mind either way. Again, if you know Stockholm like the back of your hand, I welcome any suggestion you may have for me.

Mallorca

The trip will end with a bang on Mallorca. The Balearic Island in the Mediterranean Sea looks like a vision. I have only sampled a few slices of Spain in Barcelona and Valencia so I am looking forward to getting out on an island in the Mediterranean. We all know how much I love those with my proven affinities for Sardinia and Sicily.

The glamor of the European getaway doesn’t come without a few things I’m dreading. In a few hours I will board a flight from Denver to JFK and land around 7AM. I have the pleasure of sitting in a middle seat the whole way so you can imagine the possibilities of trying to sleep. Like all travels, our adventures are laced with long travel days. We suffer through them in order to reach the final product. After a full day spent enjoying JFK, I will finally be on my way to Berlin by evening. Until then, Auf Wiedersehen!

Have you been to Berlin, Stockholm and/or Mallorca?

With Easter Sunday just days away, I am reminded of all of the houses of worship I have seen. In Europe, one church after another starts to blend together, especially if you are on some whirlwind tour. Regardless, these spaces evoke a silence and calm away from the rest of the world. Even if you aren’t a religious person, you can appreciate the architecture, history and peace that comes while sitting in a pew.

St. Kevin’s Church, Glendalough, Ireland

St. Kevin’s Church in Glendalough Ireland has that rugged appeal. The saint set up a monastic site here around 570 A.D. In the heart of the Wicklow Mountains, a mist hangs over the air, as the simple stone structure stands somewhat altered from its deep origins.

Jelling Church, Jelling, Denmark

The burial mounds and runic stones at Jelling are considered to be Denmark’s birth certificates. Housing the story of Denmark’s beginnings is the Jelling churchyard. I couldn’t enter the church for it was locked. However, I could imagine the last pagan king of Denmark converging with the first Christian king of the country on these grounds.

Capela Dos Ossos, Évora, Portugal

Perhaps the most chilling church I have entered is the Capela Dos Ossos, literally translating to the Chapel of Bones, in Évora, Portugal. Around 5,000 people make up the walls of this chapel. From one skull to the next, you can tell the differences in person. At the chapels entrance a sign reads, “our bones await yours”, spine tingling to say the least.

Fulda Cathedral, Fulda, Germany

A distant grandmother was baptized here; perhaps that is why I felt pulled in the cathedral’s direction. Then again, it could be its size. Fulda’s Cathedral dominates the town. On Sunday mornings, little old ladies scramble to get inside before the bells cease their chimes. The tomb of Saint Boniface also lies within the Cathedral.

Duomo di Santa Lucia, Ortigia, Sicily

The Duomo in Ortigia is by far my favorite church in Europe that I have seen. Along its sides you can see the columns to the Greek temple to Athena. The grand architecture is a symbol of changing of faith, going from the belief in several higher powers to just one with its baroque façade. It faces a blindingly white square as it tells just what religion can be throughout time. The faiths may change but the structures are still the same.

Do you have a favorite church, mosque or temple from your travels?

Would you like to have your photographs featured here? Email me at suzy@suzyguese.com.

This week’s Wish You Were Here post comes from Andrew Couch of Grounded Traveler. Andrew left the US to pursue work in Germany, where he became an expat, living and doing as the Germans do. Be sure to check out Grounded Traveler, follow Andrew on Twitter and enjoy Freiburg, Germany through his eyes.

My newly adopted hometown of Freiburg is a university city nestled against the Black Forest near both the French and Swiss borders in the south west of Germany. They say it is the warmest and sunniest corner of Germany, which makes for wonderful times sitting outside with a beer, watching students wander by.

This town has been the site of a market for nearly a thousand years. There is a still very active farmers market that sets up in the cathedral square 6 days a week to sell any kind of local produce. Freiburg is proud of its green movement and organic foods are proudly presented to the crowds here. Don’t worry, there are also sausage stands for those with more meat inclined tastes.

Towers that used to be the gates to the city border the center of town. This one visible from the center of town, Martin’s Gate, is now home to a Mc Donald’s. It isn’t just tourists there. That place is packed with students every time I go by.

Freiburg sits astride the Höllental, Hell’s Valley, that extends up into the Black Forest. The town at the mouth of the actual pass is called Himmelreich, Heaven. In the summer warm winds called Höllentäler blow down from the valley into town in the evening. Having the forest literally on our doorstep gives a nice place to escape from with only an hour’s train ride.

Would you like to have your photos featured here? Email me at suzy@suzyguese.com.

This week’s “Wish You Were Here” photos comes from Danee Gilmartin at Museum Chick. I was pretty impressed with Danee’s photos and I suspect you might be as well. Be sure to check out Museum Chick and follow Danee on Twitter.

The magical Bavarian Alps seemed to beckon with every step that I took hiking up the steep foothill from the quintessential Alps town of Hohenschwangau that lead to the Neuschwanstein Castle. I hardly noticed the huffing and puffing coming from my chest as the incline got steeper. Paved trails help the less coordinated but the rugged nature trails were more enchanting. A horse and carriage driver offered to take me up most of the way but I thought hiking it was part of the fun, plus it was an opportunity to take some photos.

Then as if the scenery couldn’t get any better, there it was, the Neuschwanstein Castle. Built in 1868 solely for Bavarian King Ludwig II, the decadent castle was not finished in his lifetime, which was cut short with his mysterious drowning that has been speculated as being a murder. The cost of building this castle was so extravagant that it is said to have nearly bankrupted the Bavarian government.

I traveled a short distance from Munich to explore this impressive castle and still can’t decide which was better- the enchanting destination or the awe-inspiring hike.

Would you like to have your photo featured here? Email me at suzy [at] suzyguese [dot] com.