The Bremen Town Musicians

I’m sitting on a train to Amsterdam, beginning a whirlwind of traveling for the next month and leaving my home of the last five weeks.

Bremen, Germany is an appropriate place for Christian, Elisa and me to have spent our time. The Brothers Grimm site Bremen as home of the famous “Town Musicians:” a donkey, dog, cat and rooster who, too old to continue their work on the farm, flee to Bremen to avoid the fate of too old farm animals and become musicians. The story is much more elaborate than this, but I can’t do it justice—wikipedia.

Mr. Randall Bills (tenor, on extended contract at Opera Theater Bremen) greeted us upon our arrival in Bremen and served as our guide, voice teacher, mentor, and friend (and landlord, in Christian’s case) during our stay. We got an inside look at opera in Germany through Randy.

Three operas viewed, two auditions attended, and several coachings received from Randy and friends definitely qualify us to be counted amongst the Bremen Town Musicians. We learned more than we would have in the same amount of time in grad school while having the opportunity to meet singers from all over the place (many of whom encouraged us to forget America and get our butts to Germany).

Things surely weren’t all business in Bremen, though. We had a lot of free time and were able to leisurely explore the city. The center of town was a ten minute walk away, via the main street or along the Weser River, where Randy and I would often run in the mornings.

Through the center was the Hauptbahnhof (main train station) and beyond that, the Burgerpark. In the Burgerpark, one can buy gelato or coffee, paddle down the streams running through it, visit some friendly pigs and llamas at the petting zoo, or just wander, admiring the trees that are beginning to put on their fall colors.

We met a lot of internationals through our host, Laura. Laura was kind enough to let Elisa and I sleep on her living room floor, as well as introduce us to her friends from France, England, Serbia, and Italy—all engineers whom she met in her German class. (There is a large center for engineering in Bremen...it's something like the second largest Airbus site and has a lot of space companies).

Laura is not an engineer, but an elementary school teacher. We looked forward to hearing stories about her students everyday. My favorites involved the message box installed in her classroom for kids to send private notes to her. These notes included: “Dear teacher, you look gud.” and “Do you lik dogs?” to name a few.

Laura also introduced us to our favorite Bremen haunt: Piano, a café and restaurant where cute rower boys serve you delicious breads, cheeses, meats and whatever else you can imagine to make up the perfect brunch. It was here that I recognized my addiction. To bread. Carb up!

Our other favorite place was Ikea. Ikea is magical, whatever city you may be in when you visit it. It’s the closest thing Europe has to an amusement park, and the food is even better! After walking through dozens of fashionably (and cheaply) furnished kitchens, bedrooms, and bathrooms, we bought our own bag of the infamous Ikea Swedish meatballs to make for dinner that night. Ikea is just the gift that keeps on giving.

Two nights before we left Bremen, Freimarkt began. Freimarkt is like nothing I’ve ever witnessed. It is a carnival in the States times eight hundred thousand. It celebrates the fall and lasts a seventeen days, after which the Christmas markets begin.

Bremen hosts the largest and oldest Freimarkt in Northern Germany. A seemingly inconsequential platz behind the Hauptbanhof is packed with food stands, rides, games, drinking tents and--over the course of these seventeen days--more than four million people. Overwhelming, to say the least, but such a sight to behold and such treats! Bratwurst, candied almonds, huge meat and cheese pretzels, gelato, chocolate apples and bananas and grapes, crepes, and candy comprise just a small amount of the deliciousness available. (Anyone noticing a common theme to my posts? Yeah, I love food, is this a problem?)

As if entering the Freimarkt itself isn’t enough like stepping foot in to another world, there is the Bavarian Tent. Bavaria is a region of southern Germany comparable to Texas: people are wealthy, wish Bavaria could be considered a separate country, and boast accents that the rest of the country mocks.

With enough people to be its own village, the Bavarian tent is loud. Everyone has beer (it’s served by the liter) and everyone is singing along with the band, oom-chucking away German drinking songs (children’s songs?)…all night. I didn’t last very long in the Bavarian tent, but I won’t soon forget it.  

I loved Bremen and hope to make it back soon, but now we’re off. I have to make it through Amsterdam, Rotterdam, Paris, Munich, Florence, Rome, and Geneva in the next three weeks and I am so ready.

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