Tag: germany

Postcards: Beware!

eskaftun

Remember, patreon is the place to catch every postcard story I write from now on, starting at $3/mo. One per week! If you enjoy these, I hope you’ll hop over to patreon and subscribe.

Image of the Little Mermaid statue in København, with swans and twinkly lights.
Dear Erica,
In England, they say that all the swans belong to the King—but they never asked the swans. Humans rarely think of other species. In Denmark (where the “mute” swan is the National Bird), they celebrate a fantasy version of my people, in which one of us is unwise, helpless, mute. But we are none of these things. And the swans are on our side. They’re in all your parks already, protected and underestimated. The war between sea and land is coming, and though you are burdened with legs I love you still. Beware the swans, save this one who flies with my message. Meet me at the beach.
Love,
Ariel

Image of a picture-perfect snowy Alpine castle.
Dear Joelle,
If “Abra Cadabra Travel” offers you a “tiny vacation you won’t believe,” say no. At first, the castle was magical—snow sparkling like fairy dust against a backdrop of mountains, trees, perfectly blue sky. Then, a furious earthquake struck, followed by a blizzard. We tried to leave, but after a day’s hike, we hit an impenetrable barrier that curved up and around in every direction. We saw only our reflection in it, no hint of the world outside. We’re trapped in some kind of globe with no escape. The earthquakes and blizzards continue. Save yourself!
Dinah

Postcards: Of monsters and mammals

eskaftun
Image of colorful petroglyphs and a grazing animal
Dear Janka,
Multi-headed dinosaurs, titanic snails, plodding yet hungry cave bears, and giant humanoids used to maraud into our village, stomping homes and eating whoever they came across. No one knew where they were coming from, until one day a group of us stumbled upon a rock face and saw the monsters in the rocks going about their slow lives. As we watched, a hungry head on a long neck emerged from the wall and swallowed up George in one crunchy bite.
Now we send animals out toward the rock face to graze. Some return, and some do not, but the attacks have stopped. It’s a good trade.
Visit soon! It’s safe now!
Paula
Image of two whistle pigs, apparently cuddling
Dear one,
I’ve returned home, to Narnia, to our little burrow, at your request. I hope you’re enjoying the rest of the vacation we saved and scrimped for all our lives. It does not bother me that you sent me home so early. After all, you did tell me to check one last time that I hadn’t left the gas on. “I’ll worry the whole trip,” you said, and I laughed at your silliness and hurried you into the cab to the airport.
What bothers me is that you were right to worry. Stay in Austria. Of our burrow, only ashes remain.
Love,
Your loving husband
Black and white image of an alpine horn blower at Mt. Pilatus, Switzerland
Dear Klaus,
I’m writing in regards to our community’s alphorn blower: please send a new one. I’m aware this is the 7th such request we’ve made in two years, but it’s not our fault that two of the fellows you sent were drunks, another took a nasty tumble getting up to his station, one fell ill, one rushed off to care for an ailing relative, and the last simply abandoned his post. There is no truth to the rumor that we have a yeti problem around here. But send a replacement post-haste, because only music can calm the
Viele Grüße,
Emil
Image of a furry creature with antlers and wings, holding a pipe and a walking stick, in an alpine meadow.
Dear Vicki,
Hiking in the Alps, I come across a fox, a pheasant, and a deer smoking from a glass pipe. Naturally, I joined them. The smoke was strong, and soon the clearing spun. I woke some time later with an itch in my wings, flapped them, and with horror realized they would no longer bear my weight. For I had clear memories of flight. And of digging deep into burrows my antlers would now prevent me from entering. And what would the owners of the hostel think of me? I wondered. It wouldn’t do to dwell on it. Fortunately, though my woodland companions were nowhere in sight, the pipe remained.
Peace!

Want your very own postcard story? You can buy one here.
Wondering WTF this is? Start here.

Christmas the European way

eskaftun

Take a Christmas Markets tour to find seasonal spirit

Emily C. Skaftun
The Norwegian American

Christmas lights in Innsbruck's Christmas market, with impressive Alpine peaks in the background
Photo: Freddy Alexander Bugueño / Wikimedia Commons
Innsbruck is a fairy-tale town dominated by the Alps on all sides.

Nobody does Christmas like Europe. I learned that just a couple weeks ago while taking a badly timed—but magical—tour of “Christmas Markets of Europe.” A number of companies offer these kinds of tours, with varying itineraries through northern Europe and even Scandinavia, but the one I took, offered by Trafalgar, started in Vienna, Austria, and finished up in Lucerne, Switzerland, by way of Salzburg, Austria; Munich and Oberammergau, Germany; Innsbruck, Austria; and Lichtenstein. In the end I chose this one because it was a good value, while also seeming the most classically “Christmassy.” I mean, what’s more Christmassy than the Alps?

(Technically, I suppose the Middle East is more Christmassy, but that’s a whole ’nother article.)

Continue reading “Christmas the European way” →