I was a little confused when a colleague offered me a “German biscuit”, something that I had never seen or tasted in Germany. The closest thing to a “German biscuit” would probably be a Linzer Plätzchen, a double biscuit covered in powder sugar with a hole in the centre, revealing the jam filling. But Linz is a city in Austria, so is the German Biscuit in fact Austrian?
German biscuits
Whatever the origin, apparently the “German biscuit” was renamed Empire biscuits in Scotland and England after the First World War, presumably with the assumption that labelling something German might not sell very well. But in Northern Ireland they remained “German”, and whatever the name, they taste good, so I’m bringing some home for my family, calling them ‘Belfast biscuits’.
Stoßlüften
Angela Merkel, the former German Chancellor, was once asked what she associated with Germany. She gave a very German response: “I think of tight windows.” Merkel added that no other country could build such tight and beautiful windows. Windows were never the first things on my mind thinking about my home country. That is, until I moved abroad temporarily. In Belfast, I understand Merkel’s enthusiasm for German windows better. You open them like doors to the side, allowing as much air as possible to flow in.
Which leads me to another very German phenomenon: Stoßlüften. It means opening all the windows and doors of a house wide for 5 to 10 minutes, is so typically German that there are many memes about it on the internet. In some cases, the obligation for Stoßlüften is even written into the tenancy agreement. Fresh air is a remedy for everyday problems in Germany: headaches, insomnia, lack of concentration. The antagonist for a German in Belfast is therefore the sash window, opening only half of the window seems just inefficient for my ventilation ambitions. However, there is also an advantage of sash windows: they don’t slam shut when there’s a draught.
No need for cash
No matter where I am or what I do in Belfast, I can almost always pay by card. So far, I’ve only withdrawn money from a cash machine once, right after I arrived. Cash seems completely unnecessary here. Bus drivers, food stands at St. George’s market, not even the art student selling his work at a university Christmas market insist on notes or coins. Being here I feel old-fashioned carrying a wallet at all, most younger people just use their phone.
In Germany, especially in Berlin, it would be risky to not carry cash. Many shops and restaurants only accept physical money. And in places like bakeries, a minimum amount is often required. In 2023, half of all transactions were still made in cash in Germany. I don’t understand why Germans can’t let go of notes and coins; however, I noted one disadvantage: since I can pay for everything by card, I spend more.
Heating
Sometimes I miss my Berlin flat. My Airbnb in Belfast is nicely furnished and specious, it has beautiful wooden floorboards, there is even a fireplace (and for the first time I enjoyed the comfort of a tumble dryer). What I miss is the autonomy to decide when I want to heat. My flat here has central heating, it’s always either too cold or too warm. At night, I freeze because I stay up longer than my landlord’s heating plan allows, while on mild days the air gets so warm and dry that I open the windows (coming back to my love for Stoßlüften).
The excitement for Christmas decoration
I love how Belfast lights up for Christmas, my street in a residential area in the north of Belfast has been sparkling and twinkling since the Halloween decorations disappeared; everyone seems to take Christmas decorations very seriously. My favourite are the trees in the bay windows of the red brick houses. Some are classic with red and gold baubles; others have ribbons or twinkle in every colour of the rainbow. In my family, the tree only goes up on December 24, the day Santa brings the presents to us (or in the south of Germany the Christkindl, a curly blond Christmas angel).However, my favourite Christmas moment is when my mum lights the candles for the first time. We use real candles, which for most people here must sound like a massive fire hazard. After all, health and safety is a serious topic in Northern Ireland.
Health and Safety
In Belfast, I’m rarely in places where I am not aware of the nearest fire extinguisher or emergency exit. Often, it’s because someone has pointed them out to me. I’ve been given an introduction at work, got a detailed leaflet at my Airbnb, and there are posters everywhere in public places explaining what to do in the event of a fire. I’m beginning to believe that my life in Germany is in constant danger. Even sockets are safer in Northern Ireland. In many bathrooms, there are no sockets, a precaution that has probably saved many lives, but has made my haircare routine more difficult. Also, it took me a second to understand why my phone wouldn’t charge, or the hob wouldn’t heat up – I forgot to flip the little switch next to the socket.
Biking
In Berlin, I cycle everywhere. It’s cheaper and faster than public transport, and I get to see more of the city. Everyone bikes in Berlin, children with training wheels, parents with cargo bikes, pensioners as well as businessmen wearing suits. I hate to admit it, but I have been overtaken by ministers of the German cabinet on my way to work on more than one occasion. As Berlin is huge, cycling often turns into a workout, some take a shower when they arrive by bike in the morning.
In my opinion, Belfast would be a much more suitable cycling city: it’s not too big, not too hilly and neither too hot in summer nor too cold in winter. Except for one important exception: there is hardly any cycling infrastructure and only a few brave cyclists around (they don’t even wear helmets). So far, I haven’t dared to cycle and instead walked everywhere. The advantages stay the same: I get to move in the fresh air, and I see the city. But I would be so much faster on my bike!
Irish music
Before coming here, I expected the music scene in Belfast to be mostly toe-tapping traditional Irish music played in pubs with a fire crackling in the background. I had no idea that Belfast was also home to electronic music, Irish-language rap and feminist punk. The grassroots music culture seems rich and fun, theoretically I could see live music somewhere in the city every day. If it wasn’t for all the shows to watch, comedy to see, books to read and shops to stroll.
Miriam Dahlinger is a policy editor at Süddeutsche Zeitung Dossier. She is a fellow of the International Journalists Programme (IJP) and on placement at the Irish News.
