At last, we officially conquered biking through the woods. We were able to make just two turns at right angles to end up on the road to the S-Bahn, and avoid both the quicksand part and bumpy tree roots dirt paths of our first days, giving us more time on the blissed out woodsy part. Our route includes taking a bridge over one freeway and biking under another freeway before arriving at the station, but each of us is comfortable navigating the route on our own. Major progress!

However, my assumptions about bugs here were a tad off. I had thought there were no mosquitos here, but it turns out that if you go for a leisurely evening bike ride around dusk, there are in fact mosquitos in the woods. Not a lot, but some. So I’m now sporting a few bites on my arms and legs. Oddly, they hardly itch and haven’t swollen up like the ones at home, so that’s a plus.

Our destination today was Wannsee, where there is a beautiful lake, ferry, boat rentals and a beach. The main impetus for the journey was to cool off in the lake on a pair of kayaks, and that mission was accomplished. I kept dunking my hands and feet in the water to enjoy the cool temperature, even though it was a little murky and left goopy green algae on Julian’s feet. Ick.

But along the way, there was large gate leading to a beautiful old building just before the driveway down to the boat rental shop. The sign outside the gate read, “The Notorious Wannsee Conference took place in January 1942. Remembering the Jewish people who died due to national socialism.” Clearly we had to stop before jumping in the lake.

We had read about this place– it is actually the most famous WWII museum in all of Berlin, and obviously super close by, so we walked our bikes in through the gates to an outdoor plaza where the first exhibits were displayed. I was really impressed by the way the museum curators chose to make links between past and present, pointing out that Wannsee in 1942 was a symbol of the Holocaust, where the term “evacuation” was used to disguise the actual intention of the Nazis at the meeting: coordinating the mass murder of all Jews. But they opened the exhibit by marking the commonalities of this 1942 “final solution” meeting and a meeting held in January 2024 (!) in Potsdam where representatives of New Right parties (the AfD, Identitarians- who are opposed to cultural mixing and promote the “preservation of homogenous ethno-cultural identities” and the CDU) discussed ways to expel millions of immigrants and their descendants from Germany. YIKES! The museum itself was very well-curated and included a library of documents and books, so I’ll be making a return visit on my own (when the weather cools off) for sure. No A/C in a museum is pretty brutal in a heat wave. We were all dripping in sweat and ready for the lake.

After Wannsee and our easy bike ride home through our well-trodded path, I shifted gears and prepared to head off to my first local yoga class which I’d signed up for online. I had the address of the studio plugged into Google Maps, and after strapping my yoga mat to Forest’s backside, set on my way. Of course I got a bit lost, taking just two wrong turns, but eventually found my way, and discovered that the yoga studio is basically across a field from Julian’s school. I walked into the lobby, trying to tip toe since class had already begun.

Inside was a Pinterest perfect yoga studio, complete with bamboo walls, buddha statues, big leafy plants, a well placed lamp, a burning candle and the same cork floors we have upstairs in our bedroom. I started to unzip my yoga mat out of its carrying case, only to discover that there was already a mat, block and blanket set up for me– front and center next to the instructor. So much for a clandestine late entrance! The instructor came out to kindly greet me and indicated that the first part of class would involve chanting. Cool! So I took my spot, and enjoyed bathing in the vibrations of the teacher’s voice. We then did the ritual three “Om’s” and started to warm-up. It was only then that it occurred to me that the entire class would be conducted in German. That was a big OOPS on my part. After blending in so easily looks-wise, it hadn’t even occurred to me that I would be a complete foreigner language-wise in a German yoga class. Fortunately, there is a universality to vinyasa yoga, and I was able to follow along just fine by watching the instructor in front of me, or the students behind me when I was upside down. The only three words I understood in the entire class were: 1) Namaste; 2) Trikonasana (triangle pose); and 3) Happy Baby. The class was 75 minutes long. It was also basically a sauna in the studio. I know hot yoga is a thing, but it has never been MY thing. I had no towel, and after the sweat dripping down my face started dripping up my nose in downward dog, I decided to take action and pop out into the lobby in search of a sink, or at least a paper towel. I found neither. The closest alternative was box of tissues, so I grabbed one and started dabbing the sweat from my face. After re-entering class, the tissue lasted for all of a minute before it was completely saturated. Fortunately the instructor took pity on me and while I was lying face down in pigeon pose, she deposited a small washcloth by my mat. What a relief! The rest of class basically sounded like gibberish but weirdly familiar sounds, and I was suddenly quite moved by my own family connections to this country. Even though my grandparents fled in 1937, their ancestors’ roots in Germany trace back to the mid-1600s. So that’s several centuries of my relatives who called this country home, and not only spoke the language but also were at home in this culture and place. While visually following along in the yoga class and largely blocking out the incomprehensible sounds of the instructor’s voice, I pictured my late relatives watching over me, following along perfectly and wondering what my problem was. The class ended with a lovely scalp massage for each of us while we were in savasana (final resting pose), and I finally felt cooled off by whatever type of delightful essential oil the instructor rubbed on my head. We said our Namaste’s, and then everyone retreated to the back of the room where there was a door to an area for props, and both a bathroom and massage studio. That would have been the place to go in search of a washcloth! After class, the other four students gathered in the lobby while the instructor poured hot tea. I know that technically drinking hot beverages is supposed to be good for you in hot weather, but I really could have used a tall glass of water with ice! I admitted to the instructor that I only knew about five words of German so far, but she said she wouldn’t have noticed since yoga is a universal language. I felt compelled to explain to her why I was sweating like a pig, so I briefly noted that I had just moved here a week ago from an area of California near the ocean, and my body was in a state of shock from the high humidity and heat here. She asked what had brought me here– was it work? And I told her that I am a teacher on sabbatical, my son will be attending the nearby international school, and then felt compelled to add that my family left here in 1937, but we recently regained German citizenship. She feigned interest, but I think she likely didn’t understand at least half of what I said, which is fair. I politely sipped my hot tea and then picked up my bulky yoga mat and fanny pack and bid the classmates “tchuss!” as I headed back to my bike. Glad I won’t have to bring my mat on the bike in the future, as it was a tad awkward. Although at this point, I think doing English-language yoga videos in the guest room is probably a better bet.

On the way home, I decided to swing by the closest grocery store, but I didn’t have a grocery bag or a backpack with me. So I was determined to only purchase what would readily fit in my available mode of transport (Forest). I ended up with a small bag of Persian cucumbers, a box of tomatoes, a box of green beans, a box of limes, a box of tiny apricots, one package of sliced cheese with dill (my new fave) and a bag of cookies. Even if I had wanted to buy a bag, none was offered– neither paper nor plastic. Kind of harsh! So I stacked up the items in my arms (all the classic Euro mini size) and walked out of the store to arrange them in Forest’s front basket. Nailed it! They fit perfectly, and the thin cardboard boxes for the produce kept the items from slipping out of the basket. This is mission critical since the ride home involves bumpy cobblestone and brick bike paths.

However, I did have major basket envy as I geared up to depart, and spotted a cute young couple parking their bikes to buy groceries. They each had multiple baskets, plus a waterproof bike bag fastened to the back of one of the bikes. The rain here is no joke, so I hear. Clearly I need to get Forest some upgrades in this department.

Hopefully this heat wave will end soon, as sleeping has been a challenge. I keep sliding down the bed on top of the sheet and nearly slipping off of the edge. The weekend’s forecast calls for rain– hooray! However, what will that mean for biking in the woods? Will Forest’s tires do well in the mud? Will I enjoy biking as much with mud splashing all over me? Or are the trails dry enough and the rain sparse enough that we can enjoy a few more weeks of mud-free woodsy trail biking?

The jury’s out on that one.