Travel Journals

A Hunger in Berlin
by Abha Iyengar

Key West
by Sandy Summers

Prague: Pivo, Prosm!
by Ellen Kamilakis

From Umbria to Le Marche
by Jackie Goyette

Observations of Those On the Road
by Matt Superfisky

That Smile
by Claire Rogers

Avoiding Travel Scams
by Julie Vick

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Travel Journals

A Hunger in Berlin
by Abha Iyengar

Walking down the tree-lined Unter den Linden; I ignore the cold wind whipping my cheeks and sink my gloved hands deeper into my fur-lined coat pockets, thankful that I am dressed to the gills, up to my ear muffs. As I walk down this majestic avenue, I pass elegant buildings, cafes and museums. This was the place where intellectuals did once meet and discuss issues over cups of coffee. Hitler had done away with all the trees, but they were replanted thereafter right up to the Brandenburger Tor (Brandenburg Gate) by the communist government. I become lost in thought, thinking about the war-scarred Gate which witnessed jubilant celebrations after the Berlin Wall fell in November 1989.

There are no sunny afternoons in Berlin in December, the month I was walking there, and people said it was a wonder that it had not snowed yet that year. Lucky me! At least I could take my jaunts in the open. I would have hated being snow-bound and stuck inside looking out. I had begun my walk from the Alexanderplatz, and after having walked a considerable distance, I felt my stomach rumbling. I had eaten a heavy German breakfast of Schrippen (fresh rolls), garlic and pepper cheese, eggs and ham, all washed down with black coffee. All of this somehow had not affected me, since here I was, hungry once again. The winter air does make one ravenous, especially one like me, who belongs to tropical climes.

As I walked towards the Brandenburger Tor, I knew what I definitely did not want to eat. I definitely did not want to eat the staple food of the Germans—mashed potatoes and meat sauce. Somehow the Germans could eat this meal day in and day out, but it was not my meal of choice at all. I looked at the cafes I passed along my walk, and I felt they would not suit my pocketbook.

Oh well, I guess I could wait till I returned back to some coffee and rolls at the place I was staying.

I approached the Gate and was awed by its majesty. At the same time, the aroma of good things roasting assailed my senses. There were stalls there serving sausages, of all things. Hot "wiener wurst" with mustard sauce on a cold December afternoon. In Berlin, this is the best thing for a hungry stomach. I had two of those, and then burped in appreciation. It didn't make a hole in my pocket, either. More important than that, though: I loved it! Happy and replete, I turned back, ready to begin exploring Berlin once again.

Abha is an Indian woman writer who writes in all genres, but prefers to write creative non-fiction and poetry.She writes on women, human relationships,travel,spirituality and design. Abha loves to travel and explore new frontiers of the world and of the mind. Her publications include her article, "Population" in "Science, Technology and Development" (Wiley Eastern ,1991);Poems in "Femina":a magazine for women, 1996; 1997;Prize-winning Haiku poems in "Life Positive":a journal of holistic and spiritual issues, 1997.