Back on the Bodensee

It's a little hard to believe, but right now I'm sitting at the exact same place I sat five years ago, overlooking Germany's largest lake. From the window, I can see the tropical Insel Mainau across the way (where in spite of the tourists, a wealthy family still resides in the island's palace). I'm here with my grandmother visiting her brother and his wife in Meersburg, directly on Lake Constance (or the Bodensee, in German).

Yesterday we took a boat ride across the lake to Konstanz, a well-preserved German town with a beautiful Gothic cathedral and thriving harbor. Konstanz was barely damaged during World War II, predominantly because of its hazardous location (one can see Switzerland from the dock).

Five years ago, I did a high school exchange program with my German class. Each of us hosted a student from Lindau (another island on the lake which boasts a view of Austria and Switzerland) in April for three weeks, and we then went to stay with them in June. The trip was certainly a good learning experience for me, even though I found all the partying to be a bit scarring while I was there. But now I'm back here, older and wiser, though still not partying (this time I think it has more to do with the crowd--three sixty-something year-olds--than with a deep and cloying fear of intoxication).

This morning we went to the local market, where we bought fresh cherries straight from the farmer and taste-tested homemade apple brandy at eleven in the morning. We also bought the ingredients for me to make everyone a batch of hummus, since my aunt loves to cook but didn't know how to make the dish herself. I also ate my first handful of stachelbeeren, which was immediately followed by my second handful. I was warned they would be sour, but I thought the ping-pong-sized olive- and wine-colored berries were just right. And as I watch a sailboat drift by out the window, I see that the whole weekend has been precisely that: just right.