As an SF Eurostud (European Studies for those of you who may not be familiar with Orts Block terminology), I had to do a year abroad as part of my degree requirement. Because my chosen languages are German and Russian, I had the choice of anywhere in Germany versus Moscow. Maybe it was the less adventurous decision, but I chose Tübingen, a small traditional university town nestled away in the southwest Bundesland of Baden-Württemberg, in the French/Swiss corner of Germany. Still not ringing a bell? It’s more or less just under Stuttgart.
The German semesters are ridiculously long. The Germans have a different way of doing things – the semester starts somewhere around mid-October, you get somewhere between one and two weeks for Christmas, then it’s back to the books until February. You get a two month break before resuming in April until the end of July – hence why I’m here. I’ve actually decided to keep on until mid-August, just because there’s not much to do at home and I figured I may as well enjoy my time here while I can. Just as well, because when I asked my professor when my spoken exam would take place, he casually replied, “August.”
The thing about Tübingen is that as a university town, roughly one in ten residents is a student. There’s also a massive influx of exchange students and full time students from all corners of the world – part of what makes it such an interesting place. I’ve met students from the usual suspect countries – France, Italy, Spain, UK, USA etc. – but also wider spread, like Peru, Canada, Mexico, Turkey, Brazil, Japan, New Zealand and more. The place itself doesn’t sound like much – so small I can walk from my student flat in the ‘outer district’ of Lustnau to the town centre in twenty minutes – and yet I’ve never been and I probably never will be anywhere like this in my life.
Tübingen has its historical sights – just as we have Trinity, Christchurch et al., Tübingen is mainly known for the jumbled row of coloured houses that runs along the wall of the River Neckar, known as the Neckarfront. There’s also the Neckarinsel, an island created where the river briefly diverges for a while and then merges together again. When the sun’s out, the best thing to do is take a ride on a Stocherkahn – Tübingen’s idea of the Oxford and Cambridge punts. For the record, punting a ‘kahn is nowhere near as easy as it looks. Student fraternities, or Verbindungen, are also a thing here; they’re not quite the ‘frat house’ style that you’d get in America, it’s a lot more traditional and formal, but there’s still just as much drinking involved. The houses are usually beautiful castle-esque buildings located on some impossible-to-reach hill, but hey, it’s good exercise and the views over the town are more than worth it.
It’s not easy to explain why you love a place. Sometimes you just do. I love and miss Dublin for numerous reasons: everything that all the different cultures have to offer (lads, you can’t get a good burrito for love nor money here. Sad but true. At least you’ll always be able to get a decent kebab), how it still seems so small even though it’s a capital city, and yet there’s still so much happening. The familiar sights – Front Arch, Stephens Green, et al. – that instil that sense of pride in you that you’ve lived in this city.
In Tübingen there’s always something happening too, but in winter and summer it’s like two completely different towns. In the winter the snow blankets everything and makes it into a sparkling white winter wonderland, and people wander around drinking hot Glühwein that they’ve picked up from one of the market stalls to stay warm. In the summer the temperatures can get up to 35°C and the people pour out onto the streets and the town squares in their summer clothes, kicking back with a beer and the odd cigarette and casually walking around barefoot, putting their complete faith in the cobbles that there’s no sneaky shards of glass lying around waiting to pounce. I didn’t realise quite how bad the German summer could get – the 30s was far too much for my Irish-engineered body to handle – but now we’ve reached a comfortable balance of the mid-20s it’s not so bad. It’s weird going to lectures wearing your swimsuit underneath your clothes and with a towel handy in your bag because you know you’re going to dash straight off to the open-air pool once you’re free.
And how could we forget the beer? My God. You know you’re in Germany when a half-litre of beer (€3.20) costs less than a Diet Coke (€3.50). Alcohol here is a lot cheaper in general. It’s terrifying but thrilling. There’s also no rules on public drinking here, hence why it would be perfectly acceptable to be drinking a can on the bus or strolling down the street with an open bottle of wine in your hand… But again, that just adds to the beauty of summer here – lounging in the park with some friends and a crate of beer on a balmy weekend evening.
And then there’s the people. I’m not sure how it works in the big cities, to be honest – I’ve yet to visit Berlin (yes, I know) and I only went up to Hamburg for one weekend. People here in Tübs are very friendly. There’s definitely no stigma surrounding strangers and it’s not uncommon – or reason to be alarmed – when someone strikes up a conversation with you in the changing room at the gym or at the bus stop. And even if your German’s not that great, no problem, they LOVE practising their English. Or French. Or Spanish. I’m naturally wary of strangers, so I’m not the most forthcoming with information, but I try.
So if you’re thinking about trying somewhere new, what about Tübingen? The German culture is rich and fascinating, interspersed with all the other influences from different corners of the world who’ve made their home here, and it’s a beautiful place. Maybe it’s not quite on the map with New York, Tokyo and the rest, but it’s a gorgeous and unique little town. I’m still rating my decision to come here as, hands-down, one of the best I’ve ever made.
