Impressionist Berlin

Opal, Hero and Christian on the first travel leg from Seattle to Berlin

Parent Fail.

When I read up on bringing our 19-month old on tour to Berlin for Bohemia, I learned he was still technically an infant, so he could sit on my lap for free. But I was encouraged to buy him a ticket and bring his car seat to clip in to the airplane. “It’s safer! They will sleep better!”.

And you know how I felt about that twelve hour flight with a 30 pound little big boy who can run and jump in my lap “for free”.

So, yes, we were bringing the carseat! I certainly did not want to run into a situation in Berlin where we needed to drive and Hero wasn’t easily able to join.

I didn’t connect the dots – not every car seat fits into an economy seat of an airplane. Christian carried it in a three hour line through security only to check it at the gate. Once we arrived at the Brandenburg airport, we flagged a cabbie down in a large minivan perfect for all our luggage and the Bohemia suitcases - and he pulled a booster seat out of the trunk! Hero had slept most of the flight and was elated to have new clicks and straps to play with on the well-worn seat, while we parents glared at our Gorilla car-seat bag brought across the world for nothing.

“Look at all the Dads.” 

Christian is checking out the group of parents and children mingling through the Kinderspielplatz. Soft hills of packed dirt and sand lead to a smooth, wooden play structure. It’s well-worn and beautifully wrought, with trampoline chambers, weighted water scales, and hobby horses galore.

It’s true, men are everywhere with children, kicking balls, bouncing infants in their carriers, soothing tantrums. Hero and Christian dive right in to their Daddy-Son bonding week, while I relax on the park bench with our backpacks.

After playing to our heart’s content, we collapsed in the spacious Airbnb (completely worth putting it on the credit card).

Across town in Kreuzberg, my fellow Bohemian artists on tour were having a very different experience.

“Are you on the WhatsApp thread?” This simple question was key to my vicarious satisfaction during our Berlin tour. All of the child-free Bohemians were messaging about their tourist escapades, brunches to be had, or photos of pretty cocktails showcasing the bar menu at Katz Orange.

“Help! Is anyone there? I slept in and the courtyard door is locked!”

“Sorry, Andy!”

“It’s alright, I crawled in through the window”

Leaving the Ballhaus each night, I walked on air. I marveled at the graffiti art, the cobblestones, the U-Bahn and S-Bahn. My brain was full of theatre. This was not a surprise considering our plan for a Bohemian cabaret tour in Berlin. What was really blowing my mind though, was how I rushed to leave my fellow artists, bound for bars and arty conversations and connections, the Bohemian life.  It’s easy to extend the joy felt onstage into post-show small talk, and delightful.

My dressing room table at the Ballhaus Berlin

I wanted my time alone after waving my goodbyes backstage. I couldn’t wait to inhale the sulphuric smell of a new, very old, town. I marveled at the street signs outside our Airbnb. Even the frustration of the “opposite lefty loosey righty tighty” door locks made me giddy. I was hell-bent on bringing that magical show energy to snuggle into Christian’s back and hear all about his day exploring the city with our son.

“It’s going to be so hard to be the one going back to work all the time. Being with him is utter bliss.”

Tears leak from the corners of my eyes. It’s so true.

The climax for my character, Frederic Chopin, is playing one of his nocturnes live. In the Ballhaus, the piano was a Weimar era upright. But it faced the wall, so rather than looking at the audience, I got to drift away with the music. Utter bliss. Christian never saw a performance of my show while we were in Berlin. He stayed with Hero.

Opal playing Frederic Chopin at the Ballhaus in Berlin