Fotoeins Fotografie

a question of home

Posts from the ‘Food and Drink’ category

Reichenau, Reichenau Island, Untersee, Bodensee, Lake Constance, Konstanz, Constance, Baden-Württemberg, Germany, Deutschland, fotoeins.com

Fotoeins Friday around Lake Constance: Reichenau (Untersee)

On a daytrip from Konstanz, I’m on a bus to Reichenau Island in Lake Constance. The bus’ final stop is next to the museum in town; from here, I spend the next few hours on foot traversing the western part of the island. There’s history in the Peter and Paul church, and it’s not long before the idea of “bread and fish” sharpens my appetite. I wander onto the island’s north shore to a small restaurant, Georgs Fischerhütte (George’s Fisher Hut), highlighting fresh catch from the lake and vegetables sourced from farms within a distance of 2 km. I get “Forellenfilet an Buttermandeln mit Reichenauer Gemüse” (grilled trout with almonds and Reichenau vegetables): it’s uncomplicated and delicious. By the time I make way back into the centre of town and the museum before closing, I’ve walked over 5 km (3 mi) with a couple more to tally up before the day is done.

I made both images on 22 September 2017. This post appears on Fotoeins Fotografie at fotoeins.com as https://wp.me/p1BIdT-e7f.

My Heidelberg: Highlights from Home

Above/featured: From Philosophenweg: across the Neckar, over the Altstadt, and up to Königstuhl – 21 May 2016 (HL).

Some have called this place “scenic, natural, and spectacular”; some call it “boring, provincial, and extortionate”. I could be referring to Vancouver, but that’s a subject for another time. I’ve long struggled with questions of place: what defines “home”? Can those definitions and qualities change with time? Do people have choice(s) and do they apply their choices in their search? Can people find meaning with “home”? Must “home” be restricted to only one place, or can different needs be met from different places?

Images can provide access to memories of having lived in a new country, experiencing the shock of the new, and settling into the mundane. I remember advice someone once gave me which became constant companion and reminder: that I was inhabiting a place at the same latitude as my birthplace, 8000 km in distance and 9 time zones apart on the other side of the planet, a place that’s seen its compact share of activity with flair and impact.

Most recall is naturally connected to sight. Occasionally, it’s a rush of the senses: the quick breeze on the skin, the ankle-spraining undulations of the cobblestone, how fog clings like a cold clammy cloak, the sing-song of birds among tall trees in the forest on the hill, the smell of grilled sausages in town by day, and the satisfying late-night noms of a spicy Dürüm Döner with a cool Ayran. And other times, human history leaps out and buries its claws, when the unthinkable must be acknowledged and understood in a synapsis of memory and senses.

In the autumn of 2001, I moved to Germany and Heidelberg: both sight unseen and without having learned any of the language. I stayed in town for a little under two years. What’s astonishing is I have no pictorial record of my time in Heidelberg, Germany, and Europe: I had no camera before the dawn of the smart-phone.

I have some great memories, even if time is casting long shadows. What I lost (no, gave away) was some part of me that actually has little to do with the “Schlager” hit song “Ich hab mein Herz in Heidelberg verloren“. It might be a piece of the heart, a part of the soul, or simply a scrap of good sense; but what it is precisely still remains undefined and shapeless. Finding solid answers about what I’ve surrendered might take years. And so, for the sake of clarity, I’ve returned many times since leaving town in 2003. A sharper focus comes through the post-departure blur whenever I step off the train in town.

I couldn’t have possibly known the experience of moving to and living in Heidelberg would be life-changing. Time so far has been kind, because it didn’t take long for me to adopt Heidelberg as “home”.

( Click here for images and much more )

The Pi(e) in Pie Town

Above/featured: Welcome to Pie Town. The 2018 Pie Festival was held on 8 September.

The two words reach your eyes and enter your brain.

Pie Town.

The questions are immediate.

What? Who? Why? How do I get there? Is there really pie?

A sense of calm eventually prevails, and that’s when planning begins. Because there’s firm promise: “oh there will be pie.”

Fast forward to our drive through the American Southwest over three weeks in October 2018, and our adventure is drawing to a close.

With morning sun and excellent conditions, we’ve departed Tucson for a long drive for which there are three goals. One, we must arrive in Santa Fe by tonight to catch our flights out the next day. Two, we have to stop in Albuquerque for a return visit and chomp on a spicy stuffed sopapilla at Mary & Tito’s Cafe before they close at 8pm. Three, we’re desperate to visit Pie Town which by design is on the way to Santa Fe. We’re on the road for over 300 miles (480 kilometres) through Arizona, into New Mexico, and to Pie Town, and that’ll be followed by another 220 miles (350 kilometres) to Santa Fe.

The car continues to roll along the paved undivided two-lane highway on a stretch of lonesome landscape with short stubby hills and tall grassy fields for company. US-60 is nowhere as famous as its northerly US-66 counterpart; both are historic national highways. As some have noted, driving present-day US-60 comes very close to similar conditions on US-66 in the latter’s bygone heyday.

The miles add up, and the hours tick by. Isolation is punctuated by farms, ranches, and small towns. We’ve made notes about the towns, because there’s always a need for fuel: gas for the car, snacks and drinks for the occupants. Small towns may not look like much on first approach, but I know the welcome greeting and warm atmosphere are in store as soon as we step inside a shop or restaurant.

Our destination in New Mexico isn’t “nowhere.”

Because there, pie awaits.

( Click here for images and more )

Santa Fe Bite, Santa Fe, NM, fotoeins.com

Cozy cafés, Southwest sabores

Our time in the American Southwest was much more than the extensive drives, more than the 3100 miles accumulated on the road. We were eager to sample the food, and specifically, the sustained burst of heat from red and green chiles famously represented in New Mexico. The following are some of our favourite flavours with visual reasons why we were not disappointed and why we want to go back.

  • Abiquiú, NM : Purple Adobe Lavender Farm.
  • Albuquerque, NM : Mary & Tito’s Cafe.
  • Flagstaff, AZ : Satchmo’s.
  • Pie Town, NM : Pie-O-Neer Pies.
  • Santa Fe, NM : Farmers Market / Posa’s El Merendero / Santa Fe Bite.

( Click here for more )

Arnott's advertisement, Museum station, Sydney, Australia, fotoeins.com

Fotoeins Friday: Arnott’s in the Museum (Sydney)

This post is the fourth of five Fotoeins Fridays in June, all from Australia’s most populous city, Sydney.

When I was working as an astronomer in Chile, I discovered from Australian colleagues the delectable Tim Tam biscuit by Arnott’s; the ‘classic’ caramel is my downfall. I questioned how I had gone so long without having had the beaut of a Tim Tam. For a company with long traditions in region and country, it’s fitting the advertisement shown here is mounted on the wall of a historical urban rail station in Sydney’s CBD/downtown.

I made the photo above on 2 April 2013 with the Canon 450D, 18-55 kit-glass, and the following settings: 1/6-sec, f/3.5, ISO400, and 18mm focal length (29mm full-frame equivalent). This post appears on Fotoeins Fotografie on fotoeins.com at https://wp.me/p1BIdT-bGb.

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