Queen of Pickles

Deep in the marshes east of Berlin lies an ancient land, er, forgotten by time, where people travel by barge from farm to farm, a former hot-spot of East German tourism (the "Venice of Germany") where the mail is delivered by punt and members of an ethnic/cultural minority (the Sorbs) won fame for their pickle recipes: the Spreewald.


I have wanted to go here for a long, long time, but no one else wanted to go--until CC! [Birds chirping, puppies frolicking, flute music.]

(Picture: we rented a canoe and paddled around. Sadly my camera ran out of batteries.)

By canoe, we reached a village beer garden and the Pickle Museum. The Pickle Museum underwhelmed (until, at the end and after trying unsuccessfully to talk us into buying sausages, they gave us those same sausages for free.) But, at the Pickle Museum, I found out about the Queen of Pickles Pageant.

Each year, ladies of the Spreewald dress in traditional costumes, fix up a basket of pickles according to an original recipe, embody Spreewald culture, and arrive by barge to be judged by one old man and two old ladies. The winner is crowned Queen of Pickles.


The Sorbs of the Spreewald endured some harassment by the Nazi regime, which wanted them to stop speaking their dialect, etc. Under the communist East Germany, flocks of tourists included a friend of mine who went for a day. Her family lived in West Germany. When West Germans went into the East, they had to buy 25 Marks worth of East German money. They weren't allowed to take any back with them--they had to spend it all in the DDR. My friend said the canoe rental cost them 1 Mark, and at the end of the day her dad was left with like 20 M, which he had to get rid of. So he tipped the woman selling french fries 20 M. This was apparently very embarrassing for my friend because the french fry seller took offense.

(Picture: mail delivery by punt)

(About the french fry story: me being an American*, I was like, "Why was she offended? Hey, free money!" My friend was like, 'well it's like, you big rich West Germans come and eat our pickles, and lord it over us, you think you're so great, etc.')

*Read: insensitive