Germany                          Goslar                  26 October 2024


   Autumn's arrival in Germany is a true event, rivaled perhaps only by
   the anticipation of Christmas - though even that comparison may feel
   unfair, as these two times of year seem almost incomparable.
   Inspired by an old dream, I decided to visit the Harz Mountains,
   beginning my adventure with the choice of where to approach the
   range.  Although I had planned to explore the mountains themselves
   later in the winter (and hopefully to take a steam train ride from
   Wernigerode), I chose instead to start in Goslar, a charming town
   only a few stops by train from Wernigerode, where I had been before.

   Goslar is a small town with a population of only about fifty thousand
   people.  Like Wernigerode, it's famous for its impressive collection
   of well-preserved half-timbered houses, giving the place an air of
   historical authenticity.  Goslar's origins trace back to 922, and
   from 1081 to 1802, it even held the status of an imperial city
   (Reichsstadt) within the Holy Roman Empire.  This meant the citizens
   (Bürgerschaft) paid taxes directly to the emperor rather than to
   local dukes or princes.  I don't think I'll ever cease to be amazed
   at how well the Germans have managed to preserve the authenticity of
   these small towns.

   Getting to Goslar from Wolfen was surprisingly straightforward: from
   Jeßnitz, I caught the S-Bahn to Halle, where a direct RE4 train then
   took me to Goslar.  The journey was lengthy - 33 minutes to Halle, a
   43-minute transfer, and another two hours to Goslar - so I prepared
   by packing a thermos of hot tea and charging my travel laptop.  I
   spent the time studying German, and later, on the return journey, I
   took the opportunity to draft this weblog entry.  Deutsche Bahn
   proved impressively punctual, and the view from the window was a
   steady parade of autumn landscapes settling into hibernation.

   Upon arriving at Goslar's Bahnhof, I was taken aback by the lively
   streets, bustling with people, an unusual sight for a town of this
   size.  Yet, only a short walk from the station, I found myself in
   near solitude, the streets quiet and peaceful.  I allowed myself to
   wander without a specific route, happily losing myself amidst the
   endless rows of timber-framed buildings.  I had already glanced at
   the map earlier, so I had a general sense of direction and didn't
   feel the need to check it again.  It's refreshing, isn't it, when you
   leave a strict itinerary behind and let yourself stumble into new,
   unexpected corners?

   While exploring the Altstadt, I came across a small park with a lake.
   There, an elderly man with a striking white beard sat on a bench,
   observing the leaves falling gently onto the water, sending ripples
   across the surface.  Not far from there, I found yet another park,
   rich with trees turned gold and crimson.  Parks seemed to be
   everywhere, each with its own charm, and when I found one that was
   almost empty, I decided to stop for a tea break.  I'd picked up some
   tiny pretzels at REWE on the way, which made the perfect pairing.

   Then, something unexpected happened - a true autumn leaf fall!  I was
   captivated, watching the leaves cascade down like a gentle rain.  It
   dawned on me that, despite being an adult, I'd never truly observed
   such a spectacle before.  Perhaps I had simply been too focused on
   other things, or perhaps I'd always walked through the wrong places
   at the wrong times.  Surely, I must have seen something like this as
   a child, though most of my childhood memories have been carefully
   tucked away by my mind.  While this might protect me from painful
   memories, it also means some of the good ones are lost as well.

   This walk somehow rekindled a sense of life within me, restoring a
   desire to keep going after some challenging weeks.  Not just for
   moments like these, of course, but for them too.  Something clicked
   within me, a sudden understanding that, despite the trials I've
   faced, I'm ready to keep fighting.  And, truly, there are things
   worth fighting for.  While I'm not ready to share all the details
   just yet, the walk helped me articulate why I want to keep being
   here.  Perhaps, one day, I'll share those thoughts with you too.  But
   for now, they remain private.

   On the way back home to Wolfen - yes, I'm beginning to call it "home"
   now - I found myself surrounded by two young Germans on the train.
   They looked on with interest when they noticed the variety of
   stickers covering my laptop, nudging each other and pointing out how
   cool it looked.  Though they aren't my own stickers, they come with
   their own story, one I've shared in another entry called "The Team
   Lead's Legacy."  Now, as night has fully fallen outside the window
   and the train carries me back towards Halle, it feels like the end of
   a beautiful film.  The screen has faded to black, the audience has
   left, and the lights have yet to come back on.





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