2025 – My Year in Review

Prologue – When a Year Feels Bigger Than You

Sometimes a year begins like an unopened suitcase: full of possibilities, full of surprises — and with a small tremor in your hands, wondering whether you’ve packed what you truly need along the way. 2025 was exactly that kind of year: wide, demanding, rich.

And for me, it was something else, too: my first year as a blogger.

Who would have thought that at 70+ you can reinvent yourself — build a website you wouldn’t have dared to dream of, and write week after week as if each text were a fresh page in your own life. It’s astonishing how much courage lives inside you, once you stop being reminded how old you’re “supposed” to be.

I learned that traveling at 70+ loses none of its magic. Only the pace changes: slower, deeper, more deliberate — as if the world were quietly saying: “Now breathe. You’ve earned this calm.”

And somewhere in between, my old little motto keeps me company: A smooth sea never made a skilled sailor. Maybe that’s what keeps me moving — curious, with both feet firmly in life, and with enough humor to smile even over my own wrinkles.

Singapore, Cambodia & Australia – A Wide Arc of the World in the First Quarter

January to March carried us around the globe — one long breath from continent to continent.

Singapore — so immaculate it makes you feel a little crooked yourself. Cambodia — temples that whisper, even in the world’s crush. Australia — first wild and red in the West, later soft and luminous in the East.

And then California. Lena’s laughter, so familiar to us. A reunion that has nothing to prove — it simply is.

We came home like seashells filled with sound: waves, engines, voices — and a jet lag that clung to us with stubborn affection.

April – Berlin Sparkle

A short visit to Berlin — every year again, like a small tradition that refuses to vanish from the calendar. We stopped by Mike at our favorite boutique in the Nikolaiviertel, and I found something — as always. (You could almost think Mike and I have a quiet agreement: I show up, he finds something for me.)

We walked back to the Adlon on foot — that grand hotel that collects stories the way others collect stamps. One night there: a hint of nobility, a hint of nostalgia, and Berlin — a city that can make you feel awake and curious in under 24 hours.

June – Nice, Summer Light & Family Time

June brought Nice — that southern French light that softens everything, even your thoughts. Family time the way we love it: unplanned, lively, a little chaotic, and therefore all the more precious.

Arya, the little whirlwind, who after his first “Bonjour” immediately wants to know the only thing that matters: “Grandpa, where are the presents?” A sentence that holds more truth about childhood than any parenting book.

And then Isaiah. The first meeting — a moment that wanted nothing except to be. Quiet, warm, light as a summer breath. You hold such a small life in your arms and feel time give a brief bow. In moments like that, family isn’t a big word — it’s a feeling that stays.

Between the North Sea, the Baltic & the Wonders In Between

In between, everyday life made its big entrance: neighborhood kids with impressive lung capacity, dogs auditioning vocally for Wagner’s Ring, and us in the middle — amazed, laughing, shaking our heads.

But there were also those quiet, good moments you only recognize on a second look: Baltic walks, wind-tilted days in Timmendorfer Strand and Travemünde.

NordArt in Büdelsdorf is one of those fixed points in the year we look forward to every time. A day when art doesn’t instruct, but gently brushes the soul – and quietly reminds us how much beauty there is in this world, and how precious it is to keep rediscovering it.

And then Sylt. Even the drive on the car shuttle train through the Wadden Sea feels like nature taking a graceful bow: the horizon wide, the wind an old acquaintance, the sea a quiet conductor. For us, Sylt is an island greeting to the soul — a short break with a long-lasting effect. You step out, breathe deeper, listen more closely inside yourself. And for a few hours, the world behaves as if it were less complicated.

Another summer day arrived like a small gift: our surprise visit to Usedom. Inge had no idea — until we suddenly stood in front of her, Baltic wind in our hair and that “Well, look who’s here” smile. We spent hours together as if we’d personally brought time along: walks, conversations, laughter — friendship-light in holiday sand.

And one more day that settled in and stayed: Hohwacht. My sister Lindi, my brother-in-law Andreas, my nieces — traveling in a rented camper, an adventure they bravely took on for the grandkids. We met in a small garden café by the Baltic, temperatures pleasant, the wind in a terrific mood.

And as it goes in our family: when Reinhold doesn’t talk, things get astonishingly quiet. Lindi is sparing with words, Andreas too — an almost spiritual family meditation with a sea view.  Sometimes closeness needs no big words. It knows when it has arrived.

August – Hamburg Breezes

Then Hamburg — a short visit, the kind we slip in now and then, our small Hanseatic escape. We stayed at the Westin in the Elbphilharmonie building, looking out over harbor, water, cranes, and that big, salty breath the city carries.

This time we wandered across the bridges of Speicherstadt, stood on wooden planks that seem to breathe stories, and let ourselves drift between red brick and waterways. A city walk like a northern German handshake: brief, clear, honest.

And in Between: Reinhold, the Planner of Hearts

Reinhold is always planning. Sitting, standing, walking — probably even half-asleep. He reads, sorts, researches, discards, starts again.

Sometimes he’s like a quiet engine that keeps everything running, even when the wind hits head-on. It’s a great piece of luck to have someone at your side who doesn’t just dream — but also does.

And so this year ended: not with fireworks, but with that quiet feeling of “We did well.”

Reinhold by my side, his constant planning engine, my wandering curiosity — together we made a well-practiced duo that works even when the wind comes in sideways. And as the days grew shorter, that soft little grin appeared — the one that says: “Well then. Another year done — and we’re still standing. And not too badly, either.”

Epilogue – A Year That Tasted Like a Lot

2025 could do many things: surprise, challenge, delight — and sometimes test the limits of patience. But in the end, it left behind a year that gave us more than it took. A year that didn’t flatter us, but walked alongside us with steady loyalty. And in retrospect, that’s a quietly comforting thought.

And then there was India.
Not a journey like the others. A place that doesn’t ask if you’re ready. Dust in the air, heat on the skin, a look that stays with you.
India didn’t fade — it stayed.

Now California is calling. Family is waiting, the sun too, and 2026 is already standing politely at the door. We open it — without drama, without drumrolls, but with a calm smile and both feet firmly in life.