Submitted by Susanne Bacon.
A while ago, at one of my book signings at the Steilacoom Historical Museum, a gentleman asked me whether I could write more about German topics sometimes. I racked my brain because – as many of you know – I used to write the column “Home from Home” for quite a time and even turned it into a book. So, of course, I wasn’t going to reiterate these topics. But the thought stuck. And now, you are in for it! As spring starts the season for one of Germans’ favorite pastimes, I thought you might like to explore the English term “wanderlust” with me.
‘Vun-dah-loost (with a very short “oo”) is how native German speakers would pronounce the term … if we used it. But we don’t. In fact, the two parts – the verb “wandern” and the noun “Lust” – Are German. “Wandern” means to hike, to ramble, to walk long distances as a leisure time activity. English and German “Lust” are identical in their meaning.
European countries have always known people who wandered about offering their skills for the benefit of others, to gain experience in their trade, or for religious reasons. Think of Noah Gordon’s novel “The Physician”, of traveling theater groups, of traditional apprenticeship, of pilgrims. But hiking for pleasure became a thing only after the Enlightenment (Petrarcha was the only known purpose-free hiker before), and – my guess – after pastorals became fashionable in the ages of Baroque and Rococo. Jean-Jacques Rousseau’s writing certainly added to the zest to ramble. Romanticism found it apparently the most inspiring, and there are German folksongs galore about the zest (or lust) to wander. This is one of the best-known ones: https://youtu.be/l0fY5qu06R0. Composer Franz Schubert even turned it into an art song.
Romantic artists sketched landscapes to which the rich were driven by carriage or carried in sedan chairs – the beginning of tourism. Rambling became an expression of freedom, a way to explore, even a fad. Author Theodor Fontane, probably Germany’s most important Realism writer, even wrote a five volume travelog of his ramblings through Brandenburg County, and many a party go on hiking tours in his novels.
Though Germans still love to hike or ramble, the term for the English “wanderlust” is “Reiselust” (pronounce: ‘rye-zah-loost), the zest for traveling, or “Fernweh” (pronounce: ‘fair-n-vay), the longing for distant places. Seems to me that all of these terms also imply a state of inner restlessness. Fernweh is the antonym to “Heimweh” (pronounce: ‘hime-vay), i. e. homesickness, literally the longing for home, a place of steadfastness.
Whereas rambling, at first, very obviously was a privilege of the upper class( namely those who could afford to travel without worrying about their daily income), it became a pastime for ordinary people as of the mid-1800s. The “Naturfreundehaus” (pronounce: nuh-‘tour-froyn-dah-house), i. e. house for the friends of nature, was invented shortly before the turn of the 20th century, buildings that offered food and cheap lodging. The Wandervogel movement (pronounce: ‘vun-dah-foh-gal, meaning rambling bird) originated during the same era as a protest of youngsters against the rigid rules of the German Empire.
Long distance hiking routes were marked through the mountains and across the countryside of Germany, Austria, and Switzerland. Supra-regional hiking associations were founded in the 1960s and ‘70s. That was also when the so-called “Volkswanderung” (pronounce: ‘follx-vun-dah-roong, meaning people’s rambling), i. e. the English(!) term “Volksmarch”, came up, a day’s event for the masses with checkpoints and food stations, no rucksacks to carry, and a medal at the finishing line.
I grew up in a family that loved to go hiking. Later, as a single, I hiked all alone in Germany, in Greece, in Spain, and in England, my most memorable and inspiring experience being the 60-mile coastal path around the British Channel Island of Guernsey. Quite early into our relationship, it was wonderful to discover that my then future-husband is a fervent explorer and hiker, too. Today, we treasure books with tours all around Western Washington as well as hiking maps that take us to places off the city hub. Our state’s well-marked paths as well as inviting benches and picnic areas somewhat remind me of my European hiking experiences. Our rucksacks and hiking sticks are already waiting for the next tour.
My husband and I lived in Pfungstadt, Germany, for all four years of his Air Force commitment. We did a lot of hiking in the Odenwald near our house, and were never alone on the paths very long, because our German neighbors were also out. We spent time in the Garmisch and Oberammergau alps, and were so happy to find gasthause and weinstuben conveniently arranged along the trails. No need to carry lunch or dinner.
We also enjoyed taking long walks in the towns we visited. Again, we had lots of German company!
My husband even got himself a stock, on which he put little plaques (stocknagel?)from the places we visited. We still have it and our memories of walking in Germany.
Hi Kris, thank you for sharing these wonderful memories! Indeed, I sorely miss such way-side inns and taverns, too. Shared by other hikers and locals, they always had a very special regional vibe.
I used to have such a stick with stocknagels, as well. I lent it to a family member for a hike one day – and it was forgotten at a picnic bench. I hope somebody else found and enjoyed it.
I hope so too!
In 1968, my Air Force husband was stationed at Lager Lechfeld near Munich. One other American couple along with about 8 of our German friends decided to hike up Wendelstein Mt. It was a gorgeous spring day and we all spent the night before our climb in a little cabin at the foot of the mountain. Much to our surprise, that next morning there was an outdoor mass being celebrated on the little hill just outside our cabin. This was the day that cattle were going to higher pastures. The memories I have of waking up to the beautiful rising sun and all the people gathered around celebrating the mass will remain with me forever.
As we began our climb, we hadn’t gotten very far up when my husband’s ankle gave out and he had to return to the cabin. The rest of us continued up and it wasn’t long until my new hiking boots were hurting my feet. So…I took them off and continued on up with my boots tossed over my shoulder. I had nice heavy socks on and fortunately, the path was somewhat smooth in this particular area. NOTHING was going to stop me from reaching the summit. However, it wasn’t too long before our guide noticed my boots tossed over my shoulder and had me but them back on if I wanted to continue up. So…the boots went back on and I continued up. We reached the summit and I felt like I was in Heaven. The views of the surrounding areas and Bavarian Alps stretching as far as the eye can see cannot be described accurately. These wonderful memories and the years I spent in Germany are some of the best years of my life.
What marvelous memories, Pat! That is indeed unique. Almauftrieb? I’ve never experienced that!
Fun article, Susanne. Thanks.
Thank YOU, dear Signe!
Susanne,
Your words are highly descriptive of how one can enjoy the life we are given.
You and your husband are obviously a good team of people who inspire others to capture the joys of life.
Joseph Boyle
Thank you ever so much for your kind words, Joe! And indeed, my husband and I consider ourselves a a tight team – I certainly feel blessed!
Thank you for your illuminating article, Susanne. I savored all the details. I enjoyed learning the new words and appreciate the pronunciation guide. I already hoped to do more traveling abroad, and on foot, but your essay stoked that fire!
Language fascinates me as it illustrates how people in different cultures think; what must be named is significant. What is lost in translation is… well, lost unless you learn the language with its exquisite nuance. Many of us have similar experiences, but no name to identify it, just an acknowledgement and shared, silent understanding. I wish English had more words that captured these subtle feelings and invisible, but palpable, experiences. Add to that the tradition of providing food and shelter to folks who enjoy those experiences- I love “Naturfreundehaus“!
Wouldn’t it be wonderful to celebrate all the positive, uplifting ceremonies and traditions that other cultures experience? We lack ritual, community ceremony and necessary, healthy connection to nature in this country. I don’t understand why. You point out how wealthy city dwellers/aristocracy would travel to the country 200 years ago in carriages to experience “nature.” I suppose the Industrial Revolution had a big role to play in this yearning. It’s about the time we began to feel “separate” from the green world, which is nurturing and healing, and always a part of us. It’s a dynamic many of us struggle with. I wish our current culture was better at blending modernity with traditions that nurture; a way of life that doesn’t chip away at our being, but restores us.
Thank you again for this lovely essay and glimpse of what was, what is, and what can be.
To a future full of warm, inviting taverns set among the wild woods and meadows, to rest and repair weary travelers. Because that is what we are for each other; holding a lantern in the dusk, welcoming each other in. That is what you do. And it is universal. Warmly, Jenn
Jenn, your words are so kind and heart-warming. I had no idea that I was kindling this much in you. You are definitely such a light bearer yourself, inspiring and gifting others with your creations both in literature and art. I’m pretty sure you would LOVE Germany and Austria with their traditions.
I hope to show you more of them when exploring more Germanisms in the English language. There are a surprising number of these!