A Bike Ride Through The Heimat

How often do people live in a town and never truly see it? My guess is pretty often. We get caught up in the day-to-day stuff and usually end up spending quite a bit of our time doing things around the house or getting away. Am I right?

What do you think would happen when you took a day to be a tourist in your own town? Magical things, I bet!


That is just what Toblerone and I did one of the days we were back in Germany. He grew up in this tiny little village on the top of a mountain but I had never seen it through his eyes like I had this one day. It was truly beautiful.


We decided to travel by bike. We rode from one town to the next (where his mother’s family is from). I had never seen this side before. I missed out on the beauty of it all.

We traveled around and stopped in the next town over to visit Toblerone’s Grandpa, Rudi. Check out how beautiful his space is. I may or may not have shared a bit of champagne with him. (He probably would have preferred beer – next time!)



We rode past the windmills…


And of course a pit-stop for some lunch!



My favorite part of the day was visiting the chapel in the town.




We went inside (luckily I didn’t go up in flames!) and I lit 4 candles in honor of the grandparents we have lost.

3 4


It wouldn’t really be me if I didn’t cause a little bit of commotion before I went back home…now would it? I rang the church bell for you all! Which actually wasn’t that easy, that thing is HEAVY!

We stopped along the way to many homes of family members and friends to say hello. It was a special day and BEAUTIFUL weather! It was so nice to see this other side of Toblerone’s Heimat (home) from a different perspective!

Just the hubs and I on our little bike tour! And check me out with no make-up and my 30 year old wrinkles! LOVE LOVE LOVE the aging process 🙂




Until next time, Readers!!!! xoxoxoxo

Who Took The Cork Out Of My Lunch?

Almost a year ago when I came to Germany for the first time (when it was cold and snowy) I went to a winery (my first one, ever!) with a few of Toblerone’s family. If you missed that blog, do go back and read it here first and then come back to this one.

We decided to head back again while it was blistering hot for some wine tasting and a picnic! Grand idea if I do say so myself! The drive itself is about an hour or more away which sucks but it’s well worth it! Upon arrival Toblerone’s uncle, The Mayor (for real), purchased 12 cases of wine within 5 minutes. I kid you not! Mind you, we are 5 people squished into one car leaving only the minimal space in the trunk for everyone’s purchases! Germans love their wine!

We tasted this and that, that and this and I was feeling the laughter start to bubble inside of me. You know that moment when you realize you’re buzzed and everything seems to be either hilarious or very serious. I was reading the back of a wine bottle like it was my rough draft for the President’s speech! Everything in my glass tasted awesome no matter what it was. I couldn’t tell the difference anymore between what was red, white, champagne, or pee. It was all amazing!

Toblerone's Uncle (left) and Dad (right)

We packed up our car with our purchased cases, leaving no room for our cooler of snacks! Holy NOT ok! Up we went to my favorite spot at this winery. The circular monument/chapel for the dead Nazi (not all by choice) soldiers. I know, sounds morbid and morally wrong but you need to read the other blog, like I told you to, first. Why is this my favorite place? Because there is something magical about this small little chapel in the middle of a winery with quite a view. And there we were eating our wurst sandwiches, drinking our newly purchased wine, and enjoying the view of the surrounding countries. Hello France, Hello Switzerland, and Hello Germany’s Black Forest! 

I finally took some pictures for you guys of the inside of this sweet little chapel. With large frames on each wall with all the photos of those men, and boys, from this particular town that died in WWII. This town isn’t large so it made me think that at one point, there were probably a total of 10 dudes in the town after the war. What a ratio that must have been! As I looked at all the faces of lives lost I couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sadness. All so young and all share the same undeserved fate. And then again, maybe this had to do with the massive buzz I was working with!

It was SUCH a nice day and I swear to all that come to visit me, I will absolutely, 100% bring you to this place. To eat, drink, and be fantabulous! Not to mention, there is something so right about eating the wine grapes right off of the tree. Speaking of…we planted two wine trees ourselves..can’t WAIT until those babies come in!!!

Most importantly, before you go to the bathroom or clean the grout in your tiled floors with a toothbrush…please (PLEASE, I’M BEGGING YOU!) go over to the facebook blog page, and “like” the page! It’s easy as a click since I put the the handy dandy link to the right hand side here 🙂 Vielen Dank für Ihre Unterstützung! (Thank you for your support!)

Until next time, Readers!! xoxoxo

In The Heart of Post War Germany

The stuff they don’t teach you in history class you learn by finding out for yourself. When I went to England all the time, I would visit other countries and castles and restaurants. It’s so important to learn the customs of other places. I thought I was more educated by having hands on experience rather than reading it from a text book

I’m sure you all remember talking about WWII in history class and now that I’m here…I am seeing a very opinionated side was taught to me in class. Nothing against my teachers, it’s just that they left out the bits about how the other side lived and survived or felt. Feelings. Thats something they need to teach more of. Having us watch Schindler’s List doesn’t really give you what everyone felt. You get one view point from that.

My first trip to Germany, Toblerone’s family sent me off to many different places to check out what Germany was really all about. That was great! I really got a sense of where I was and how life would be here for me. One of the places that stands out the most to me is not a large castle or huge city with old as dirt buildings. It was, hands down, the most sincere and gratifying experience I have ever had. EVER.

We started the day off with heading to a winery with Toblerone’s Aunt, Uncle, Cousin, and Dad. That was the fun part. I barely ate breakfast since I had jetlag pretty rough so after all the sampling I was half in the bag! We decided to buy another bottle (after the 50 cases of wine were already purchased) and head up the hills of the winery to a little “lookout” spot. As we walked up the hill we could see a small round chapel of sorts. So quaint but perfect for a little prayer.

As we climbed up the hill, in snow of course (this was early December), along the path were small mini-monuments regarding the death of Jesus. I think there were 8 or 9 that would describe his path carrying the cross, etc. It seems no matter where you go, you are in the depths of many religious folk. Certainly not what I’m used to.

We arrive at the top of the hill and at the “lookout” spot and you can see for miles. I can see the Black Forest, France, across the village and back into Germany. It was crazy beautiful. I wish I could send a piece of this memory back to everyone.

We opened up our bottle of wine and sipped away with the view surrounding us. After a few sips or so, of course I felt it was necessary to go into this little chapel and check it out. I, of course, didn’t take pictures of the inside because at that moment, an older man walked in and I felt it would be impolite.

As you walk in you can see 3 rows on either side of pews and then at the front a statue of jesus. On every wall was maybe 40-50 pictures in a frame of soldiers who faught in WWI and WWII. All of these men were from this village where we were in. The old man told us that he knew every single one of these men and he put together these frames to honor them. He was one of the lone survivors from the war and came here often to water the flowers inside, keep things clean, and send a praryer to his fallen friends. As I looked closer, goosebumps grew on my arms as I read under each picture the family name, when they died, and how old they were.

It was a dark and confusing moment for me. I was taught in school to think that the German military was the devil and Germans are our enemies. I was always proud of Americans and the military. I never once in my entire life ever stopped to think about the others. They are people too…they had families, wives, children. All was gone in an instant. Looking at the pictures you could see that there were young boys fighting, no more than 16 years old. To imagine that this man came here to say hello to his friends he knew so long ago and lost so suddenly, I can’t even begin to fathom the feeling.

Later on we went to Toblerone’s Omi’s house for a quick visit. One conversation led to another and she brought out a very well maintained collection of medals from another room. Medals from the “opposite side.” All proudly displaying the National Socialists German Worker’s Party (aka Nazi Party) emblem, which we all know as the swastika. I remember people drawing these symbols on their notebooks in school as part of some rebellious stage and being sent immediately to the principal’s office. Here I was staring right at something that was so tabu in my world.

These medals were telling stories of Toblerone’s family. His great grandfather and great uncles all fought in the war, one medal dated 1892, if I can remember correctly, which we think is his great great grandfather’s. I love history and being surrounded by it rather than reading it. This was incredible! You can also see in the picture the top of a sword which was worn as a representation of pride for his great uncle who was a general in WWII.

There were five brothers all together, and two never came home from the war. The impact still lays heavy on the family and you can tell as they talk about this with tears in their eyes.  Most of the time, most Germans who had no choice but to fight didn’t always agree with Hitler and his ways but it was either the concentration camp or fight. Not sure I would choose the camps either…

It’s an amazing experience and quite humbling to be reminded that Americans aren’t the only ones in the world. Many remember the way Germany looked post-war and this feeling is raw for them. It’s hard to forget the memory of seeing your favorite cities in ruins and your family never to return again. I think it’s important that people don’t forget that even though you may fight for one side in war, the other side are people who have families and feelings just like you. Sometimes you don’t have the choice who you fight against, war is war.

(This is dedicated to my wonderful Grandfather and his friends down at the gas station. Hi Grampy! I heard from a little birdy he was printing out my posts to discuss with his buddies down the street. I hope this one sparks a 2 hour conversation!! xoxox love you!)

Keep an open mind readers!

Until next time…