Finding and leaving home

Paul Theroux couldn't have been more correct about finding home at the end of a long travel. Here in the Hof is home for me.

The most caring and sharing people I met during my travels were right next door. Heike and Wolf Dieter doted over me like my sweet grandparents. I was expected to join lunch everyday, and was told to only call if I was not able to join. Each day brought a spread of delicious plates so that I "won't be able to forget home-cooked German food". And during these two-hour lunches, they were interested in every detail of my week and my trip. I had to smile at how well she had tempered her worries about me all these months.

The week was a buzz of activity. My packed boxes were picked up. Bicycle boxes scavenged to pack up Schopper. Paperwork to be dispatched. Students to meet and colleagues to notify. All this in a carousel of friends and cafes, catching up on life both here and on the road, and how my Stupid Sandals plan had beaten the odds. And to say goodbye because I was leaving Bremen the next week.Read more