Even though I was kissed-on-the-forehead-good-night, my sleep that night in Jericho was rather bad. Really tired, I attended my taxi driver host's morning tour, taking people to work and kids to school. Afterwards, he dropped me at the Northern tip of the Dead Sea and we waved good-bye.


Sun rising over Jericho's palm trees.


Crossing in Jericho, with camels.


By the main square, kids on their way to school (and famous streetart in the background).


Happy family in Jericho.

Now, the Dead Sea, from far away, seems like a stupid clichée. From close and in real, it's that exact clichée - but so absolutely great and worth it. I was the first person on the beach in the morning, so I got a private floating lesson from the lifeguard (it's actually much harder than it looks, but I was immediately offered a Dead Sea life guard job!), swam out further than allowed, got myself tanned (and terribly sunburned in two tiny spots I forgot to put lotion on...), made some friends and was greatly amused by the international busloads of tourist arriving, dipping and disappearing in an instant.






(via iPhone)




(via iPhone)




Mudd and float impressions at Khalia Beach.

At night I decided to go south but missed the last bus, so a great guy working at the beach invited me to have dinner with his family back in Jericho and offered me to sleep over. I did and got to know a wonderful, huge Palestinian family in an age range from around 1 month to 70 years, all living under one roof filled with love. It was amazing. When Nic called me late at night to ask if I had found a place to sleep, I had to wisper as I was lying in bed in a room with six other girls sleeping. He did think for a moment that I got kidnapped, but I could prove him wrong.


Youngest family member in Jericho.






The lovely mother.

The next morning, I went back to the Dead Sea, I floated some more and finally decided to take the bus from the main road down south, out of the Westbank towards Massada - because a ton of people, including my super excited gynocologist, had told me I had to go, if possible for sunrise. So that was my plan, look for a bed nearby and get up early to climb up the rocks to watch the sun crawl up over the silver sea.


New friends at Khalia Beach.

First I waited for the bus for more than an hour, getting nervous a bit, as it was usually supposed to have passed me twice already, and I was in the desert, not carrying big amounts of water on me. Finally a truck driver stopped at the busstation, nestling on his truck and finally asking me (in Hebrew, I think - or Arabic... I don't know!) if I needed a ride. Of course I did, and I jumped on the truck.


My bus stop.

Now, have you ever been in a real, huge truck? It's amazing! I sat so high it felt as if I was the queen of the desert, fast on the road, with a big panoramic window in front of me. The lovely driver tried to tell me things (and I told back) - but there was no way we could communicate. He finally called a friend who spoke English to make sure where exactly I wanted to go and smoked many cigarettes and blinked at me proudly when I was completely smitten with the landscapes all around us.


Abondened houses by the road.


Life saver truck driver.


Very excited!


My hitchhike through the desert.


So pretty! (via iPhone)


Trucker style.

When we passed Massada, he dropped me by the road, and a lovely Tel Avivian with her old mother took me up the rest of the hill in her car. Massada, here I was. It was too late to get all the way up to the fort, the only hotel within walking reach was booked out and the McDonald's in the valley scared the shit out of me (though I love McDonald's, but we were in the desert - right?). So I ate some hummus in the tourist trap and jumped on the next bus back to Jerusalem (taking some awesome street photos from the bus), and from there to Tel Aviv. It was an impulse that turned out to be right I guess and I was happily back with my lovely hosts in Tel Aviv by late evening, sharing my stories and munching cheerios. Yum!


Desert on the way back to Jerusalem.


Most beautiful Dead Sea coastline.


(via iPhone)


(via iPhone)


(via iPhone)


Street photography Jerusalem (via iPhone).

All photos: Carolin Weinkopf

After a few days strolling through Tel Aviv and gaining weight due to delicious breakfasts, lunches and dinners, I decided to check out some of the rest of the country.

I took a bus from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem, and from there, I tried to figure out how to get to Jericho. The lady at the bus station looked at me as if I was completely crazy, stating she had no idea how to get there or where it even was.

Somehow I figured out I had to go from Damascus Gate (where, again, I had to ask several people where to go and what bus to take). Finally, I was sitting in a collect taxi taking me out of Jerusalem, to a town (which was more a road) called Abu Dis. Unfortunately the driver forgot I was going to Jericho (and of course, I had no idea where I was), so he took me way too far and when he realized later he put me into a taxi driving in the opposite direction, showing me where to take the next car.

The drive through the desert was breathtaking and, finally arriving in Jericho, a lovely scent crawled into my nose, jasmine and citrus blossoms.

Though Jericho is not big, streets seem to have no names and it was impossible for me to find the hotel with the promising name "Hisham Palace" (which has never been better described than by one of my favourite authors, Angelika Schrobsdorff, in "Jericho. A Lovestory." - which initially made me want to go here). I found a taxidriver who was more than willing to take me there, but after getting to the place we both loughed about our miscommunication - he had taken me to the place the hotel was named after, an excarvation site outside of the city.

We both giggled, took a photo at the site and in the end the friendly taxi driver took me home to his family, where I was fed and kissed on my forehead before going to sleep.


Jerusalem (via iPhone).


Outer Jerusalem (via iPhone).


Highway through the desert.


Sunset in Jericho (via iPhone).


Dinner in Jericho.


Hide and Seek.


Visitor during dinner.

All photos: Carolin Weinkopf

Tel Aviv is one of these fascinating cities that suck you in the second you put your foot on the ground. I loved walking for hours, no aim, no plan. The best thing about the walking was that whenever I came home, my hosts invited me for gorgeous, homecooked meals. Yumyum.

























All photos: Carolin Weinkopf

I was well prepared and knew what could happen when getting to the airport. I actually didn't think it would. But it did. Arriving in Schönefeld in front of El Al counters, I got questioned for 60 minutes and searched for 30 minutes. I had to show my couchsurfing confirmation, all booked hotels, emails I had sent to my family concerning the trip, facebook, my website and blog to prove that I was really a photographer and that I was not part of a terrorist organization... Everyone was really nice and kind, but I do think that this procedure is a bit over the top (...and I didn't know yet that it would be beaten by far on my way back).

(Not to mention it did not happen neither to my sister nor my dad, though they have similar travel histories and were both also traveling by themselves).


People waiting at the gate at Schönefeld Airport.

Anway, the flight was nice (except of the quite crazy Jesus-lives-lady sitting next to me on the plane, trying to convince me to join her Christian sect after I denied to be Jewish) and we arrived whole and save at Ben Gurion Airport. Took a train from there, walked a lovely 20 minute walk through southeastern Tel Aviv and reached the beautiful home of my hosts behind a mandarine tree. I spent the evening eating falafel and crisscrossing Tel Aviv by foot, observing drunken Tel Avivians walking the streets in Purim-costumes.


Beautiful mountains on the way (via iPhone).


Israeli coastline.


Kid with balloons on HaHagana (via iPhone).


Sunset over HaHagana (via iPhone).


The mandarine tree.


Dressed up, excited girl (via iPhone).

All photos: Carolin Weinkopf

After a scary, lonely trainride at 1 a.m., I arrived in Schönefeld, caught my flight and slept through food and views to arrive in Istanbul at dawn. Unfortunately getting all my stuff together and organizing Turkish lira took so long, when my bus finally left the airport, the sun was already up. Anyway, I met some nice people on the bus and had not so lonely coffee, tea and börek at a tiny street venue in Taksim. I spent a few hours walking around and being fascinated by this beautiful city, but I was so tired I couldn't really enjoy it all. Back at the airport I almost collapsed and decided Istanbul is definately a place to return, but maybe after having a bit more sleep.

The plane ride to Skopje was beautiful, flying by the Turkish and Greek coastline, tinted in warm sunlight. Macedonia is mostly covered in snow, Skopje even hidden under a thick layer of fog. The city has changed so much, there's new big, heroic buildings and statues everywhere. But I was welcomed with love and food, as always.

♥














All Photos: Carolin Weinkopf

Today I finally booked my trip to Israel. Can't wait to be on the road again in March.


Photo: Carolin Weinkopf

[Photography] [Travel]

I'm planning a trip to Israel in mid march and am looking for people to meet, to couchsurf at and to get advice for places to go and things to see. If you know anyone who knows anyone, take a heart and >>contact<< me. Any travel in unexplored territory depends on the people helping me there. I'm super excited but don't know enough to make plans just yet.


Photo: Flügelwesen@Photocase.de / Editing: Carolin Weinkopf

[Photography] [Israel] [Travel]

We got up early, packed our stuff and locked it in the hotel lobby, went for breakfast at a little café on Paseo de Gracia, especially enjoying the coffee and then took off for a walk through the city. We certainly didn't fullfill our goal not to shop that day - but at least we limited ourselves to a few stores only.

Walking loops and stopping occasionally for coffee or shopping, we made it to some interesting streets with locals hanging out, walking their dogs, drying their laundry or shopping on Mercat de Sant Antoni. We lost track of time ambling along and got a bit stressed finding the way back to our hotel to pick up our luggage. Cussing over those damn suitcases we made it to the Estacion de Autobuses de Nord and jumped the bus taking us to our family in Begur. After almost three hours watching the land pass by and falling asleep eventually, we got warmly welcomed by my dad, his wife and my little sibblings with spaghetti and wine.


Morning sun.


I saw what you did.


Pedestrian.


Tall men like short dogs.


Mercat de Sant Antoni.


Laundry day in Barcelona.


Meat meat meat (sister) meat meat meat.


Sleeping beauty on the street.


Sleeping beauty on the bus.

All photos: Carolin Weinkopf

This is the end of my "in words" series of my Tour d'Europe. The last days at the beach were my private escape from real life and I rarely took pictures. I'll post some, for sure, but this is the end of the story to be told. I'm back at home in Berlin since two weeks, a bit post-travel depressed but all together happy, I went to Hamburg this weekend and have a bunch of new photos to show. Back to real life now and big news to tell in the next posts.

[Photography] [Spain] [Barcelona]

After a beautiful flight over the Alps and a lovely Panorama on Milano, I arrived in Barcelona, took a bus from Terminal 2 to Terminal 1 and met my sister for coffee and croissants in the airport meeting hall. We munched and loughed before we wrapped our stuff and took the airport bus to Placa Catalunya, from where we carried the damn suitcases to our nearby Hotel.

The first day was sisters reunion shop-, eat- and drink-til-you-drop-day. We both didn't have any sleep that night, so we ran around in a delirium and especially my Swiss Franc-priviledged sister bought all shops empty before dusk. We had tapas at a little restaurant in the old town, headed for a strawberry flavoured champagne in between a crowd of drunken teenagers at Carrer de la Reina Cristina, bought some Rioja and a bottle opener and sat by the waterfront by Rambla del Mar drinking wine and enjoying the oh-so-rare European sun before it got chilly and we carried our tired selves back to the hotel, falling asleep before taking our clothes off in front of Spanish television.


The Alps.


Cleaning windows at the airport.


Watering flowers on Placa Espagna.


See and be seen.


Street artist on La Rambla.


Balcony on La Rambla.

All photos: Carolin Weinkopf

[Photography] [Spain] [Barcelona]

Time began running and before I really arrived in Vienna, I was almost gone again. Thursday was my photo day and I walked through the whole city. It didn't even rain that much.

Philip recommended me Brunnenmarkt and I decided to use it as a starting point. After I explored the market in the rain (yes, not as much market as one would think), I followed the most interesting crowd leaving the market - east on Thaliastraße. I found a little haberdashery shop, chatted with the owner, followed around pigeons, bought a fantastic leather bag for 2 Euros in a thriftstore, talked to an ex-Berliner fighting against nuclear plants and ended up at Ottakring, from where I took the Ubahn to Volkstheater to have a look at Museumsquartier and it's spectators. Here, I could finally use a bathroom. Nothing else really stroke me here - since I didn't want to spend the day inside of a museum and outside it rained, so people ran away.

I took off and took a train to Simmering, where Eva had promised me interesting street scenes. I stayed around Simmeringer Hauptstraße for a while, taking the tramway back and forth and watching people doing business as usual.

I walked to Zentralfriedhof, skipped the famous graves but only enjoyed a few spots of sun on the old jewish partition. My feed hurt so bad I couldn't walk any further, so I took the tramway back and went home.

Philip had left that day for a job in Munich, so I met with Eva, we ate all remainers of the bolognese and then had a few Weiße Spritzer at a bar close by.

I never slept that night, as when I came back around 1:30am, I realized there's no point to sleep if I had to be at the airport at 4:30am. So I spent a whole night updating the blog, editing photos, printing tickets and packing. Then I left before dawn to the airport, heading for my next destination: Barcelona.

This trip was way too short and thus doesn't seem representative. As my emotions were aimed more on my friends here, I never found the vibe and flow with Vienna.

Anyway people here treated me with warmth and respect (against all odds of German accents). Maybe Vienna was too "familiar" to really strike me and I didn't have time to start recognizing, to start combining and finding my own places to explore, but it felt like home, quite unpretentious, and it's definately a place to return. Next time, I will stay for a week or so. And I'll actually spent time on getting recommendations before I go.

Baba, Wien, ich komme wieder.


Thalia Straße.


Yves Saint Laurent.


Wiener Fenster.


Locksmith waiting for customers.


The best Schnitzel in town.


Old lady at Ottakring.


Waiting.


Observation at Ottakring.


From Museumsquartier.


People waiting for the Ubahn at Volkstheater.


Trains shake in Austria.


Fresh vegetables sold at Simmering.


Wiener and his hat at Simmering.


Mother and son.


Simmering.


Zentralfriedhof.


At Handelskai on my way home.

All photos: Carolin Weinkopf

[Photography] [Austria] [Vienna]