Ex-pat Newlyweds

My favourite jump to date.

Ask anyone fantasizing about a trip to Europe which cities they want to see and Paris will undoubtedly be on that list. Paris is the holy grail of European travels. Unlike some over-explored territories, no one will ever call Paris “done”. It’s Paris and no matter how many people trudge down its cobbled streets, it still lets you feel like you’re the only one to discover that piece of the world.

Josh and I had both been to Paris before, just never together. Both of us were 11 when we were lucky enough for our families to take us there. For Josh, it was his parents and sisters. For me, it was Trudy (practically my sister) and my grandparents. It was like a strange dream, going back to the city and chasing around the ghosts of our 11-year-old selves. The whole weekend was spent trying to figure out if we had actually been there ourselves or if it was something that we saw in a film or a picture.

Of course, we were in Denmark first. Loved it. I really only had a day and a half in Aarhus before we went through the smallest airport ever — yes! Smaller than Regina’s! — before Paris. Though I did go to Aarhus’s famous historic village museum, I spent the rest of my time doing what any other girl left to her own devices does: shopped. I liked it.

A taste of Aarhus, Denmark.

Off to Paris!

Seine River with the Eiffel Tower poking out on the left.

Thursday morning we left our charming little hotel, the Le Chaplain Rive Gauche, near the Luxembourg gardens for the nearby boulangerie for breakfast. We head out to explore the city on foot, wandering through the streets of St. Germaine and being lured into Laduree by a window full of macarons. Throughout the day we meandered through churches (St. Sulpice and Notre Dame) and over bridges until we ended up at The Louvre to fight crowds to say hello to a glass encased Mona Lisa with visits to the Venus de Milo, the winged Nike of Samothrace and many other masters along the way.

Croque Monsieur at Notre Dame.

The Louvre’s pyramid

Venus de Milo paparazzi. How many cameras do you see?
This is one of my beefs: people who take pictures of art. It will never do it justice! And your flash is ruining it for future generations! Just buy a print! Rant over.

Paris means a lot of walking, and we certainly got our fill on the first day. We kept dinner close to home, fuelling up at a Creole restuarant next to the hotel for Friday’s journey to the top of the Eiffel Tower.

When we were 11, neither of us went up the Eiffel Tower. Josh’s family is plagued by phobias while my story is we were 11-years-old and was told the only way we were going up was the stairs. Many years later, Josh and I finally went up to the very tippy-top, though I think the journey was far more redemptive for him. We climbed the stairs of the first two platforms and squished into the elevator to get to the top. There, we witnessed two proposals and snapped a lot of foggy pictures while marvelling at the lacework of steel that has become so famous.

Close…

…closer…

…at the top!

Coming down the Eiffel Tower from Sabine Devins on Vimeo.

And coming down…

More sightseeing that day included the Arc de Triomphe and a stroll down Champs Elysees. But it all seems so insignificant compared to our dinner that night.

At Le Timbre. He has no idea of what’s about to hit his taste buds.

Yes. The food. Friday, October 9, 2009, marks one of the greatest meals of my life. I could spend weeks in Paris just eating, but that night, we were lucky enough to stumble upon Le Timbre. Josh started with a liver pate and a confiture of onions followed by pork on a bed of lentils. I enjoyed a very French appetizer called Pounti — a dish that mixes guinea fowl and plums. My main was a roasted duck breast and roasted pears — two of my favourite things ever. It also seemed very appropriate to be enjoying pears for our wedding anniversary after they played such a big part in the wedding. Dessert: I had roasted figs in red wine sauce while Josh enjoyed his first Tarte Tatin.

The most. amazing. dinner. ever.

Flashback: Wedding pears!

The rest of the weekend was a little less intense as our feet threatened to stay behind. We made the mistake of enjoying an early-afternoon champagne from a foodfest that was happening on Montmartre, which put us in a hazy mood for the afternoon. I also got to eat a slated-caramel macaron. I wanted to just nibble at it forever. When we finally snapped out the champagne haze, we were at the Pompidou Centre — all the way across town. Dinner was French and I got to scold a chubby enfant in his own language for calling me une americaine, giving his family reason to boom laugh. Finally, we got to catch up with friends made in Toronto over drinks. Thanks to the Metro, we crisscrossed the city without our feet hating us too much. Also, my new French shoes helped.

We rounded up our touristing with a trip to the Orsay museum filled with French masters after returning to Laduree for a massive brunch. If you go there — you can order the brunch and its seriously more than enough for two. Bonus: They forgot to charge us for our upgraded order of scrambled eggs to asparagus omelet. Yay!

All that was left of our brunch before we remembered to take a picture. Oops!

Josh was more than happy to be returning home. He had spent very little time in his own bed in the previous two weeks. Paris is lovely but its no Berlin.

Again, I let Josh take the photographic reigns on this trip and I’ve made sure he uploaded his favourites. Click VIEW SLIDESHOW to see them all!

One year ago…

One year (and four days) ago, Josh and I stood under a tree at the Capilano Suspension Bridge in North Vancouver, B.C., and promised to our family, friends and each other that we would be husband and wife.

The day blurred by, between car rides, appointments, ceremonies and finally some dancing. Much in the same manner, the last year has flown by too. One year ago, we were lounging poolside in Maui. Today, we’re shivering in Berlin, but I’m not complaining.

In a way, being married is a bit of a frustrating restart button. Josh and I married five years (to the day!) after our first date, so really, we were celebrating six years of being a couple, one year of being — as my oma says — an honest one. But one year is longer than 90% of Hollywood romances, so we might as well celebrate big, right? We did, but that story will come later.

But really, if Josh and I survived the six month period from the end of August, 2008, to January 2009, I think we already know that we have a solid relationship. Those six months went a little like this:

Sabine starts a new job that expires at the end of November while Josh gets laid off along with the majority of the company and finds out about it from a phone call received at the top of the CN Tower in Toronto. We attend a friend’s wedding, leave Toronto the next morning to make it back to Vancouver for another wedding. Discussion. We decide that it makes no sense for us to find new jobs for three months and make the leap into planning a move to Germany. Meanwhile, there are still details for the wedding to figure out — like the cake, among other things. Cake gets sorted out, RSVPs are chased down and Josh visits Berlin for 36 hours, spending 10 of those in job interviews. He flies home, causes me to break down over candy, gets three job offers and takes the one from Nokia in Berlin. So many butterflies. Two weeks later, we say “I do” in front of 100 people and chow down. Sing Total Eclipse of the Heart and dance the night away. Two days later, on a plane far too early to get to Maui for 10 days of relaxation, promising each other to NOT BRING UP THE MOVE.

We arrive back in Vancouver 12 days later, glowing like only newlyweds do (it may have been the tans).

Both of us are back at work and congratulated a million times by friends, coworkers and strangers in person, over the phone and on Facebook. Meanwhile, we start trying to find renters for our townhouse while packing up all the summer things in boxes for Berlin. Contracts are signed, furniture and books are being sold on Craigslist. Goodbyes start being said in Vancouver as I fly back to Regina for one last trip to Earl’s for a margarita while some farewells start getting missed as time starts running out.

We leave Vancouver, arrive in Berlin, have our one and only “WHAT HAVE WE DONE?!” moments. Our apartment is near the river, but also by a prison and the bed is hard. There is no internet. Sabine gets her phone and life feels better. Apartment anxiety for two weeks until I walk into the doors on Granseer Strasse and know I’m home. We get the keys before our Christmas roadtrip to Cologne and eat way too much and come home with just as many treats. On our drive back, we make the first of three trips to Ikea at three days and nearly kill each other in the wardrobe department. Then, upon delivery to our house, the wardrobes nearly kill us. Fireworks at Brandenburg Gates, our last night in the hard bed and our summer clothes and furniture arrive in Berlin. Drown in a sea of packaging while assembling furniture with a Swiss Army Knife. Fill the fridge and finally, we can relax.

If you’re exhausted reading that, you can only imagine how I feel after typing that only after experiencing it. It was easily one of the most insane periods of my life but there is really only one thing I would change if we did it all over again: I would pay Ikea to deliver the furniture and carry it up the stairs.

Also, I wouldn’t have survived if I did it all with anyone else. Proof that ours is a good partnership and in that, we’ve got an amazing cast of supporters from our parents, friends and even the growing amount of readers at our little blog. It makes it all the more appropriate that we were married on Thanksgiving as we have a lot to be grateful for. Thanks to you all.

And yes, Paris was wonderful. Details will come but for now, I’ll leave you with a picture from our trip.

…four days ago.

I! Love! London!

My previous experiences with London were brief (in hindsight) and miserable. The first was a 24-hour sleepover in Heathrow Airport. I finally left the airport with a rash covering a quarter of my body and starving. The second was a journey from Stanstead Airport to Heathrow with a brief park pause in between. No rash, but not exciting.

Well, London, I’m happy to report you changed my mind about you.

I actually found all the CCTV “security” really disturbing. It actually bothered me. This is at Victoria Station.

Despite a very early flight, we packed a full day in on our first day in London. We met Dom for a fish&chips lunch after dropping off our bags at his house. Walked from Oxford Circus to Piccadilly Circus, through Trafalgar Square, past a gate protecting No. 10 Downing Street and past Big Ben Tower and the parliaments and finally through the halls of Westminster Abbey.

The parliaments and Big Ben Tower (Big Ben himself is really the bell inside the tower)

Westminster Abbey, where we visited the graves and memorials for a lot of historically important people, including scientists Darwin and Newton.

Josh snapping pictures with the Soviet camera in front of Buckingham Palace.

Squirrels in the park in front of the palace.

Second day, we visited the Queen (her house at least) and walked through the park to the British Museums. We easily spent our afternoon there and could have taken even more time. It’s a fascinating collection of antiquities from around the world all housed in a beautifully maintained and renovated building. The museum itself has been open to the public since 1759, allowing it to amass quite the collection. Highlights included the Rosetta Stone (the tablet that allowed archeologists to translate Egyptian hieroglyphics) and a collection of mummies. Yup. An entire collection of mummies. It was grotesquely fascinating.

The stunning interior of the British Museum.

Sightseeing is exhausting. But not as exhausting as London shopping. I got a head start on Josh and he went to the pub with Dom while I shopped — not doing anywhere near the damage on the bank account that I thought I would. Not a bad thing at all.

The Devinses pretend to be hobbitses while at the Shire.

Host Dom reliving years of teenaged rebellion over the towns he grew up in/around.

Friday was a very exciting day for me. Fact: I’ve read all the Harry Potter books. I’ve seen all the movies. While I was excited to meet Dom’s parents, along the way, we made a stop at the Gloucester Cathedral, where they film some scenes of the movie, including some of the dining hall scenes. I pranced where Harry Potter pranced. Ok, I pranced, he strode along determinedly to get He-Who-Shall-Not-be-Named.

Harry Potter halls! Eeeeeeeee!

During the 1700s, the Gloucester Cathedral (built around 1000 a.d.) was used as a boy’s school. During that time, many of the tombs, including this one of King Edward II, were graffitied by the cathedral’s resident students. Yes, that is 300-year old graffiti.

Josh enjoyed a “manly day” of dirt bike riding while I met with friends and explored London’s south bank with colleagues from Vancouver who are now in London. I repeated the day again on Sunday, but with a trip to the Tate Modern museum instead of a drink at the former OXO factory (as in the soup stock brand).

The view from the Tate Modern cafe.

Millennium Bridge — Dom tells us that when it first opened, there was an engineering mistake and it shook easily. It was closed down and fixed. Also, Harry Potter fact: This bridge gets destroyed by the bad guys in the opening scenes of the latest Harry Potter film.

London is big. And hectic. It has a frenetic pace that Josh and I could barely keep up with. It was also really disorienting to see signs in English everywhere. English food did not agree with me though I enjoyed fish and chips with malt vinegar — just like the stereotypes! We loved that the museums were free (with the exception of special exhibitions) and people watching in that city is great.

Tower Bridge — often confused with London Bridge, which is down the Thames River and actually really boring.

Cheesy tourist in London shot!

Apologies for the hurried recap. With all the madness over the laptop, I’m rushing to finish this before I face one of the most daunting packing challenges to date: What to put in my suitcase for Paris!?!?

Josh and I are off again, but this time to celebrate our first anniversary in the City of Lights. I can’t believe it’s been a year since we had our wedding, but at the same time, SO MUCH has happened between now and that day that it feels like a really long time ago. Our lives are unrecognizable compared to a year ago.

Now: to sort out what to wear in the world’s most fashionable city….

It’s a big day in Germany today. It’s Election day and I just voted in my first German election.

Even though I’ve had the benefit of a German passport, I haven’t been a very good German citizen. I’ve never paid taxes to the state, I didn’t go to school here and I never did any social services (even though its only men who have to do that). Finally, I’ve never voted and wasn’t able to until now.

I’ll confess: I skipped casting a municipal ballot in June (we were in Italy) and I didn’t bother voting in a referendum about religious education reforms in Berlin public schools. But today is the federal election! Today the whole country votes!

This year isn’t what the Germans call a ‘turning point’ election (Richtungswahl). Most here are ready to stay the course until the crisis moves out of the country. Germany’s economy, based on a luxury export market, has been hit hard by the markets, harder than expected (this is the world’s second-largest export market). Angela Merkel is expected to retain her lead of the country, taking it ‘cleverly out of the crisis’, as her campaign posters promise.

What she is hoping to change is the coalition she’s governing with. Currently, she’s partnered her conservative Christian Democrats with the left-leaning Social Democrats (everyone’s a democrat here…). She’s hoping to gain seats so that she can join forces with the business-friendly Free Democrats (like I said…).

Technically, I got to vote twice. Here, you get two voices: first you vote for your preferred MP in a vote for proportional representation, and then you choose the party that you want to represent your state in the state parliament. Complicated stuff, but this is Germany where we like to make our bureaucracy the antithesis to German efficiency.

Late this morning, Josh and I headed to the school around the corner. I went to the very last door for voters in distrcit 114. Gave the man my voting notification and my (German) ID while his colleague gave me my ballot.

Behind the plastic curtain I went, made the appropriate Xes. I emerged, folding my paper in half, dropping it into the slot, a better German citizen.

Technical note: London was lovely. The night we came back, we drowned our laptop (accidentally, of course), and have therefore been without. I will be able to post all about our London adventure on Thursday, when the new laptop will be accompanying Josh back from his business trip to Boston.

I’m making up for the lack of posts in August — I know Opa will appreciate it.

It’s amazing how the change of the month brings the change of the season. It was very abrupt here, with September 1 being the official last hot day. It’s chilled considerably already, with nights dipping down to 12 degrees.

Besides our little trip up a creek with a paddle, we’ve been really busy and sorry to say, didn’t share any of it with you… until now.

June/July were full of visitors. We had six sleepovers in six weeks! With all the visitors streaming through, it’s made me grateful that I don’t have to deal with roommates anymore. Don’t get me wrong — I loved our guests coming through. A few were acquaintances that became friends and to be honest, you have to expect that people will call you up out of the blue when you’re living in a destination city. I’ve been lucky enough to have relatives that lived here all my life, giving me a “homebase” for all of my European adventures. I’m paying it forward.

I hope our guests do too.

While it was exhausting doing “the tour”, all of our visitors wanted to do different things. Amanda was ok going her own, a little overwhelmed by Christopher Street Day celebrations (Gay Pride) and appreciative of the kindness she got from us, near-strangers when she arrived. Cousin Elsie came from Zürich just to hang out with us and spend some family time with us, eating and drinking and shopping. Joel wanted to relive his glory days of being a 20 year old in Berlin, while Aunt Reva and Uncle Steve swung by en route to England from Switzerland for a 24 hour site-seeing expedition filled with German food and beer. Scott was a last-minute booking with tickets to shows, a party all night and while proving that it is just me when it comes to making my guitar sound good. Finally, Julie and her cousin Dave made a stop in Berlin on their way to a Norwegian family reunion. While Dave got his fill of Second World War to Cold War history, Julie and I got a good fill of girl time while window-shopping and trying on silly hats in the department stores.

We thought we were in the clear for August, but another last-minute booking came through via our friend Dom and Alex was with us for a few days too. More bike tours, another all-night party (with an interlude for Mel and Andrew’s engagement celebration over Skype) and lots of wine consumed.

August was nice to be at home. We spent a weekend in Cologne visiting with the Omas. Marlene and Sandi (”the aunts”) were visiting, so we took some time to visit them too. We had a very competitive game of minigolf — par for the course (har har) when doing anything with Marlene and Sandi. We took the train — my favourite. For our way home, the Oma Schatz (a nickname that means Oma Darling she was Christianed with because she called all of us grandkiddies Schatz all the time) packed us pieces of pork schnitzel in tin foil, Haribo gummis and a box of Duplo (they are much cheaper here).

The weather was beautiful, with hot days leading to epic thunderstorms — the kind of which I haven’t seen since living in Saskatchewan.

While Josh has spent the summer settling into his new position of Architect at Nokia (his second promotion since he started there in December! I brag for him), I had my last day of my internship at The Local. While I didn’t need the clippings most interns go for, I needed the German news experience. Before this summer, I couldn’t tell you who Frank-Walter Steinmeier was (head of the SPD), or what Ulla Schmidt does (Health minister) or even how to spell Baden-Württemburg (ouch, I know). I can say that all that has changed, as well making massive strides in improving my German. You can read my last hurrah by clicking here.

We have lots of adventures planned for Fall. We’ll be in London in two weeks, with a couple of visitors before that and finally, the big first anniversary trip in October to…

PARIS!

(*squeeeeeeeeeeeeeellllll!*)