Europeans-at-heart. A journey of discovery through 28 EU capitals (eBook)

Portugal, Lisbon: 'Let me kiss your waters' Those who have never been to Lisbon cannot appreciate just how beautiful melancholy can be. It sits in the seemingly nostalgic ruins of this former seafaring city, and is expressed in the longing-filled no-tes of fado music. Melancholy is everywhere here ... except amongst Portugal's younger, proactive generation. I sit rhythmically nodding my head and tapping my feet. The dark-haired, black-eyed and tanned gentleman sitting next to me looks at me strangely. I take my headphones out of my ears and tell him: 'Fado, I'm listening to fado.' He gives an understanding smile and seems glad. Accompanied by the sounds of this traditional Portuguese music, our small, white, teleférico gondola carries us over the Tagus River, past the Lisbon Expo Park bordering the sea. It's so wonderful to be able to have a few moments up here in the air where I can enjoy a clear view of the city and the water. I alight close to the Oceanário (Europe's largest aquarium) and find myself at the heart of the diverse Parque des Nações area, a centre full of artistic architecture which was built specifically for the World Fair exhibition in 1998. I walk past the high-tech Oriente train station, a building designed by the Spanish star architect Santiago Calatrava which features an elegant, futuristic, foliage-style roof, and along the river promenade to Torre de Belém, a light house and defence tower built in Manueline style: a Gothic form of design characterised by maritime decorative elements. My only previous experience of Portugal was a week-long, child-free beach holiday on Madeira 20 years ago. What I now know about this country and its people is largely thanks to a very dear friend who lived on the Algarve coast for a few years. She waxed lyrical about it so much that I actually went to the cinema to see a film by German director Wim Wenders entitled 'Lisbon Story' - a captivating declaration of love to this city and its people. The film and its wonderful soundtrack, which was written and performed by the Portuguese band Madredeus, started my never-ending love affair with fado music. That is why, as I take a few moments to rest on a boulder at the water's edge, I immediately pop my headphones back in and listen to the music of the platinum blonde Portuguese singer Mariza, a woman who is an icon to the younger generations. 'Ondas sagradas do Tejo / deixa-me beijar as tuas águas / deixa-me dar-te um beijo / um beijo de mágoa / um beijo de saudade / para levar ao mar / e o mar à minha terra', she sings. I once googled the meaning: 'Sacred waves of the Tagus / Let me kiss your waters / Let me grant you with a kiss / A kiss of sorrow / A kiss of longing / For you to carry it to the sea / And the sea to bring it to my land.' It may not sound as stunning in English, but when sung in Portuguese it will give you goose bumps. Fado, a music full of heart-wrenching lon-ging and tear-jerking melodies sung to the cascading sound of guitars, was accepted onto UNESCO's intangible cultural heritage list in 2011 - and rightly so! Ahead of me, far across the 'sacred waves of the Tagus', I can see the defiant Torre de Belém: a symbol of protection for sailors and the city's landmark. The gigantic Cristo-Rei (Christ the King) statue with outstretched arms sits enthroned atop the opposite bank. It was built in the 1950s by a high-ranking cardinal after he was ins-pired by the statue of Christ on a visit to Rio de Janeiro. Beneath it, Europe's longest bridge - the 17-kilometre-long Vasco da Gama - crosses the river. The bridge is named after the man who discovered the sea passage to India via the South African Cape of Good Hope in 1498. His compatriots were also successful explorers: Ferdinand Magellan sailed around the most southern tip of South America, whilst Pedro Álvares Cabral conquered Brazil. They broke the monopoly held by Arab traders, opened the sea channels for extensive trade with India and the Far East, and transformed this small nation on the edge of Europe into an important colonial power. For many years now, Portugal has had other things on its mind besides the sea. In 1974 the army toppled the ruling dictatorship with the so-called 'Carnation Revolution'; since then, the country has turned itself into a stable parliamentary republic and, in 1986, it joined the EU. As well as being home to the European Monitoring Centre for Drugs and Drug Addiction, the city also houses, amongst others, EMSA, the European Maritime Safety Agency which was established in response to the sinking of the Erika oil tanker which caused an oil spill along the Brittany coastline. ... Germany, Berlin: 'Berlin, Berlin - we're going to Berlin' Berlin has always been a haunt for unorthodox thinkers, revolutionaries and idealists. Even today there are still many places in this exciting city - justifiably dubbed 'poor, but sexy' - where you can find a wealth of creativity ... just not in the Reichstag. August 2012. Berlin may well be a very old city, but the 'Dicke Marie' [Fat Mary] is even older. This common oak tree began to sprout back in 1107; Berlin, however, had to wait another 130 years before it made its first appearance in historical records. Allegedly, Alexander von Humboldt (who later became a famous explorer as well as a renowned geographer) and his elder brother Wilhelm von Humboldt (a philosopher, diplomat and founder of the University of Berlin) named this famous tree after the well-built cook who worked in the nearby Tegel Palace where the two spent their youth. Even Goethe has paused to catch his breath under this impressive botanical specimen. Today Bernd and I are the only ones sitting on the bench beneath its foliage. On a red- and white-squared table napkin that we have brought with us, we start to unpack our lunch. It consists of French ham, Italian cheese, Spanish tomatoes, Greek yoghurt, Bavarian espresso bought from an old family roasting house, and a couple of original Berlin schrippen, i.e. bread rolls: the perfect picnic for European explorers like us. It's also the ideal location - beau-tiful and quiet - to prepare ourselves for our visit to Germany's bustling capital. 'What do you instantly think of when you hear the word 'Berlin'?' I ask Bernd as I tuck into my bread roll sandwich. 'Mainly politicians, such as Kaiser Wilhelm, Adolf Hitler or Erich Honecker - not exactly the heroes of German history. Then the building of the Berlin wall, the wall's 'strip of death', Kennedy's speech, the Berlin Air Lift - again, not exactly happy memories', answers Bernd with a sorrowful look; he doesn't like to hear a bad word spoken about the city that rescued him from military service in the wild 1960s (due to political divisions, young men living in Berlin were exempt from being drafted into the army). A place where, during his studies, he crossed paths on a daily basis with two people who embodied the German hippy movement - Rainer Langhans and Uschi Obermaier from Kommune 1 - and where he walked side-by-side with his fellow female students as they protested for women's rights. 'Berlin had a huge influence on my life', says Bernd pensively, 'especially in terms of how I approach people who think differently. Back then, Berlin was the place to be if you wanted to be different - it was a wild, exciting time, and I spent nine years living right at the heart of it, constantly protesting against the decrepit status quo. It didn't take long for this new climate to override my conservative upbringing.' 'And don't forget all those barebosomed female protesters', I say teasingly, before changing to a more serious tone. 'The fact that you had to wash your own clothes when you lived in a shared flat, and that your female friends were really into feminists, like Alice Schwarzer, is definitely part of the reason why you never wanted me to be a kept woman - and it saved us both a lot of grief!' Bernd nods in agreement: ''Berlin, Berlin - we're going to Berlin!' That's certainly something to be happy about!' And he's right. The chant he just quoted brings back fond memories of the final game of the festive World Cup that Germany hosted in 2006. It was a tournament that definitely was 'a time to make friends' with the rest of the world, as FIFA's slogan had predicted. 'It's actually the celebratory song that the fans sing as they make the hallowed way to the German cup final in Berlin, but the Berliners don't seem to mind. They're not ones to make a fuss', adds Bernd. What a crazy summer that was. For four whole weeks in 2006, and in 2014 as the Winner of Football World Championship, the country was turned into one massive festival, with everyone in a jubilant mood; even the most vehement of football opponents enjoyed themselves watching the games on the big screens set up everywhere, from Hamburg to Munich, or on the enormous fan mile in Berlin. And the world was amazed: they were impressed to see that the Germans were actually really nice and good humoured, and so - 60 years after the end of the war - the rest of the planet finally moved on from the age-old adage that Germans = Nazis. I suppose better late than never. And now we have official confirmation of Germany's new-found adulation; according to a survey conducted by the BBC in June 2013, 'we' (for the sake of simplicity, I'll include myself in that group, despite my Austrian roots) are incredibly popular: 59 percent of those questioned are of the opinion that Germany has a positive influence on the world. That puts us in first place, ahead of Canada and Great Britain, whilst last year's winner, Japan, drops down to fourth place. Surprisingly, 68 percent of Spaniards, 78 percent of Brits and 81 percent of the French see Germany positively; at least the Greeks lived up to expectations with 52 percent expressing a negative view. So what are all these people basing their positive opinion on? ...