I have no memory of why I chose to spend a semester in Konstanz. Perhaps I knew about the Bodensee – I’ve always liked water and I rowed competitively during my first few years at uni, so living on a (huge!) The lake would have appealed. Perhaps I simply wanted to go somewhere I’d never heard of. Somewhere untainted by literary expectations from year upon year of novels set in Berlin and Munich and Cologne. Whatever my reasoning, one day in March 2023 I found myself stepping off a plane to begin my life in a city I knew nothing about.
March in Germany is decidedly stubborn. It selects its weather sometime in mid February and starts as it means to go on. And go on it does. That year it rained. It hailed. Fog floated over the mountains and the lake was barely visible through a forest continually assaulted by gales. In fact, I hardly believed there was a lake until April came around, although I crossed it almost every day whilst walking into town. Such was the fog that the bridge I crossed might have ranged over a canyon or a country lane as easily as it stretched over the water.Yet, I immediately fell in love with the town.
Baden-Württemburg carries with it the spirit of centuries of fairy tales. The Brothers Grimm linger even beyond the bounds of the Black Forest, and it’s just as believable that there might be a monster in the Bodensee as in Loch Ness. House after house carries the marks of centuries past in dates written above doorways and frescos by long-gone artisans. Stories told by Omas in cafes breathe life into the characters painted on walls, and the nostalgic paradises of lakeside childhoods past are almost within touching distance. Within days my temporary dissatisfaction with the weather had transformed into reverent idolisation of the city.
Then classes began. To the extent that it is possible to enjoy a lot of 8am classes on the 15th floor of a building with a broken lift, I enjoyed them. I have always appreciated the intricacies of German grammar, and so the course itself satisfied me. But it was the walk to campus I really loved. Where other students took the bus, I would warm up for my 15-story climb by inhaling the verdant world.
My route began as a simple stroll through a 1960s development. But as soon as I started my descent down the hill, the whole landscape changed. It became green as far as the eye could see as lone trees and meadows and forests and grassy fields wove themselves together. A stream splashed its way across the spread, tying up loose ends. Best of all were the many critters who crept between the tapestry’s strands, transforming the park into a scene worthy of Princess Aurora. The most curious amongst these would actively seek out human contact, appearing to the left and right of the path to display their fur-ed or feathered glory. Others stayed hidden. Regardless, the city’s magic was only bolstered by knowledge of the creatures who shared my world.
The natural world seemed somehow stronger, larger, more present in Konstanz. The cuckoo outside my window certainly believed himself the strongest of them all, and saw to it that I never forgot him. He continually protested the clock-prison ascribed to much of his race by ceaselessly proclaiming his own freedom. His noise became the background of my life, and I still expect to hear it whenever I open up my German textbook. Wolves paced the region, too. Tales of their misdeeds would surface every few days, but always from too far away to be any cause of concern to the little city. For someone like me from a country where cows were the animal of greatest threat to human life, it felt strangely unreal to to live side by side with such ferocious beasts. However little I would have enjoyed meeting one in reality, I always harboured a secret wish to catch just a glimpse. After all, every fairytale needs its wolf.
As the semester wore on, I visited some of the many islands that surround Konstanz; I saw the botanical paradise of Mainau and the vineyards of Reichenau. I plastered the walls of my student room with evidence of each day that had passed, determined not to forget a moment. I found 8 friends from across the globe and together we stretched out and discovered the world beyond Konstanz. The semester was a whirlwind of emotions I would repeat in a heartbeat. The joys were intense. The frustrations were fleeting. Throughout it all, it was the world I saw on early-morning runs and walks, the world I admired from my window and photographed for my family, that secured me. Konstanz became home. The view became my anchor.
Lively Words 