Everyday Life in Germany: Day Trip Edition  Two Cultures of Being on the Move

From a packed family bus winding through the Syrian streets to a meticulously planned bike tour in Germany – our author invites us on a journey between two cultures of being on the move, revealing why a day trip is never just a change of scenery.

It is a morning like so many from my childhood: my mother is sitting on the sofa, drinking her coffee and listening to Arabic music when suddenly the phone rings. My aunt is on the other end of the line and asks whether we would like to join her for a spontaneous trip to her holiday house in the mountains the next day. A fixed time? A plan? Not a chance. In Syria, outings often come together at the very last moment – and that is precisely what gives them their charm.

Family, Music and the Chaos That Brings Us Together

The next day, everyone is ready, nonetheless. Not ten, not twenty – around fifty family members have gathered. My uncle has organised an old bus with enough space for everyone. I sit on blankets in the back with the other children, surrounded by drums, games and loud voices that start singing joyfully even before we set off. The journey becomes a rolling celebration: laughter and music fill the bus, and the anticipation grows with every kilometre.

When we arrive at the holiday house, a familiar ritual begins. Salad is washed and chopped, ayran is mixed, kebeh and kebab are placed on the grill. Pomegranates are freshly pressed and poured into large jugs. The bustle is accompanied by music, and every twenty minutes a dabkeh dance forms as if by magic. Everyone dances, stamps and claps while my cousin plays the darbuka and my uncle plays the oud. In the evening comes the highlight: my uncle and aunt perform an old Lebanese theatre piece. The rest of the family becomes the audience; we comment, crack jokes and laugh with all our hearts. Afterwards, we sit on the terrace, sharing sunflower seeds and shisha, singing, laughing and playing late into the night. Sleep, on nights like these, is considered a luxury no one needs.

Three Months of Preparation for One Afternoon

The memory of my first outing in Germany tells a very different story: planned, thought through and scheduled down to the smallest detail. A stark contrast to everything I knew from Syria.

It all began when my flatmate wanted to take me on a trip into nature. The planning started three months in advance – the journey there, the journey back, the food, the clothing – every detail was fixed. No question remained unanswered, nothing was left to chance.

But one detail threw me completely off track: “Ahmad, we’ll cycle nearly twenty kilometres to get there,” my flatmate informed me. The longest distance I had ever cycled before that had been ten minutes. I stood there in disbelief – why had I agreed to this?

The Lake That Pushed Me to My Limits

And yet, there I was on the bike, on the way to the lake. My flatmate rode ahead of me; sometimes I could see her, sometimes she had vanished from sight. I pedalled after her, struggling with my speed and wondering why I hadn’t simply stayed on the sofa at home.

After what felt like an eternity, we reached the lake. I was completely exhausted, gasping for air. My flatmate turned to me, smiled and said: “Now we’ve earned our relaxation.” A sentence that has stayed with me ever since.

Business Before Pleasure

Since then, I’ve encountered this principle everywhere in Germany: first hiking, then eating in a beer garden. First a walk, then a coffee. First pitching the tent, then reading. It is always the same principle: work first, pleasure later. At first, I struggled to understand it. Today I know planning can create a sense of security. Hiking or cycling can bring great joy. And resting after exertion truly does feel different. At the same time, I miss the loud, lively moments in Syria – the spontaneity, the unplanned chaos and the sleepless nights full of laughter.

Over time, I’ve realised that both worlds have their own rhythm. I move between my cousin’s darbuka and my flatmate’s bicycle, between spontaneous family trips and carefully planned weekend outings, between noisy bus rides and quiet moments by the lake.

January 2026