Category Archives: A BIT LONG IN THE TOOTH

Der Kaiserstuhl. 62 km. In 24 Stunden.

Oh, guck! Schon wieder die mit ihrer 24-Stunden-Wanderung! War am … 10 August? Das ist ja am Samstag … Benefiz-Wanderung … Kaiserstuhl … da war ich noch nie …erm … möchtest du?

Ja.

 

Und so einfach ist frau wieder an allem schuld, nur weil sie dem Mann Geschichten von/aus dem Instagram erzählen wollte, wie immer am Wochenende.

Auch diesmal ging es herrlich aus, die Schuld.

Meistens habe ich es gemieden, während der Wanderung den anderen zu erzählen, 27 km seien mein Krakeel-Rekord. Waren ja auch viele echte Wanderer dabei, die schon einiges hinter sich hatten und die laue, dreiviertelmondbeschienene Sommernacht mit ihren interessanten Geschichten fühlten.

Wir begannen also um 13 Uhr in Ihringen, latschten rum wie bekloppt, hatten leckere Pausen mit Kaffee, Obst, Müsliriegel, Wasser …. Das Schwimmen in lokalen Weihern und YOGA nicht zu vergessen. Jep. Wir wurden zwischendurch von der netten A. durch Yoga-Übungen wieder aufgepeppelt und diese nahmen mir so richtig Gewicht von dem Buckel, Müdigkeit aus den Knochen und Falten von dem Gesicht. Nackte Füße im kalten Wasser und Yoga beim Wandern sind ab sofort meine Lieblingssachen des Sommers. Aber wo war ich geblieben? … Latschten rum wie bekloppt, noch bisschen, noch mehr, Abendessen, nette Gespräche, Latschen, Yoga, Latschen, Sonnenaufgang, dann war Frühstück, Yoga, und wir latschten, latschten, latschten … und kamen um 13 Uhr und paar Zerquetschte wieder in Ihringen an. Sekt, Kaffee, Obst, Fotos, Abschied von all den netten Menschen.

Hotel, Kaiserstuhler Wein, schlafen. Am Montag hatte ich bei der Fahrt nach Hause ein riesiges Hormonen-High – ich hoffe, mein Mann hat das Gezwitschere schon längst vergessen.

Diese Wanderung hatte allerdings auch ihre ernste Komponente, denn der Verein, für den wir wanderten und spenden durften, widmet sich jungen Menschen mit Krebs. Und wenn diese erzählen …

Unvergesslich.

– – –

Mal sehen, ob dieses Jahr noch die Challenge Nr. 4 drin ist. Sieht eher nach Stubentigerei aus …

 

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Die Murgleiter. 110 km Schwarzwald in 5 Tagen.

Wir haben das Jahr der Challenges.

Es ist natürlich nicht auszuschließen, dass das auch für unseren ganzen Planeten ein Jahr der Herausforderungen ist, aber das Jahr der Challenges im engeren Sinne gibt es nur bei uns zwei zu Hause. Wir haben es nämlich voriges Jahr als solches ausgerufen.

Dieses Jahr saßen wir dann an einem verregneten Abend in einem Bierzelt und guckten den Menschen aus verschiedenen Epochen der Geschichte zu, wie sie unter den dicken Regentropfen herumeilten, Schwerter oder Böttiche trugen, den Matsch da draußen auf unterschiedlichsten Sohlen bewältigten und auch sonst authentisch nach Mittelalterart zu wirken versuchten.

“Und wenn wir die Paddeltour auf später verschieben und erstmal eine Wandertour machen?”, rutschte es aus meinem biergeschmierten Mund. “Da gibt es doch die …. Mu- Murgtour. Nein, die Murgleiter. Die müsste doch in einer Woche zu machen sein.”

Und da wir an dem Abend zweistimmig beschlossen hatten, auf der Murgleiter zu wandern, änderten wir den Plan auch dann nicht mehr, als wir sahen, dass es 110 km sein werden, für die offiziell 5 Tage veranschlagt waren.

“So eine Wanderung habe ich noch nie gemacht.” gab ich zu. Mein Rekord waren 21 km an einem Tag und dann 7 Tage ganz schlimmes Aua, laut kundgetan “Aber wir schaffen das schon.” (Und wenn nicht, kann ich mich eventuell auf mein Sternzeichen ausreden – soll ganz modern sein, diese Masche; das war der Beitrag des Herrn Hintergedanks. Ein schlauer Bursche, wenn auch bisschen zu sarkastisch für meinen Geschmack.)

Was soll ich sagen, wir haben es geschafft. In sechs Tagen, weil wir einen Tag Pause einlegen mussten, da die Nacht zu heiß zum Schlafen wurde. Ansonsten wären es fünf geworden.

Und nichts ist, wie es war, denn die Frage nach dem nächsten Mal steht plötzlich ganz groß im Raum.

Dass Schwarzwald so ziemlich großartig ist, wussten wir aber schon davor. Und der Fernwanderweg “Die Murgleiter” ist aus vielen Gründen zu empfehlen: Er ist wunderschön, vielseitig, anstrengend genug und problemlos mit dem Zug (und Bus) zu erreichen, sodass man alle fünf Etappen ausschließlich mit Hilfe der öffentlichen Verkehrsmittel beginnen und abschließen kann. Mit bisschen Glück sieht man Feuersalamander, Füchse, Turmfalken, Rehe, Weinflaschen …

 

 

 

 

 


Ouch!

So I haven’t told you what I’ve been up to for months?

Actually, I have, but I went to Instagram for that. Sorry.

It’s just that I am busier than the police allows 🙂 and need my words to earn some money and pass exams.

For the record: I am now officially old. In December, I invited my husband to a trip to Paris – to see a few museums. Jep.  And it’s not just that: I cannot help but recommend the City of Science and Industry, Gallery of Evolution, Gallery of Mineralogy and Geology and Gallery of Paleontology (MNHN) wholeheartedly. In fact, I sincerely hope to see them again soon. Fans Of All the Light We Cannot See will understand 🙂

Here is why we were so happy there, in a nutshell:

 

 

 

 


Sleepless In Denmark

“Remember having asked me about possible reasons for not doing this anymore?” he says suddenly, unexpectedly. “This would be one. But we can avoid that in the future.”

He is right, of course: while we have started our paddling tour in Denmark before the school holidays begin, we should still have expected larger campsites to attract youngsters of a certain kind at any time. Certain kind means being able to tow unbelievable quantities of beer crates to the campsite and at the same time unable to get very far by paddling on the river, which is where the cars come in, at some later point.

And did I mention the Soccer World Cup was to start soon?

Anyway, we did not get much sleep in our tent that night, but I chose not to grow the huge bags under my eyes without a fight. I shared my personal opinion about the partying youngsters with my restless husband and didn’t spare him any details: I was quite sure the Danes understood enough German to know what my problem was. They did. And were soon making fun of my “Scheiße!”. Which was when the i-word was used. But before things got any worse, the idiots stopped singing, yelling and talking and went to sleep, leaving us to try to do the same.

At that point, we had done quite some paddling and really needed some rest, and I would have preferred to end the day by going through the lovely pictures of the magnificent Gudenå in my head, but river fans cannot be choosers, so.

Our tour had started in Skanderborg, a day later than planned because the wind was trying so hard to blow away the gravity of the water, as it often does. What else to do but to go shopping instead: Aarhus offered its facilities and we said thank you, though we almost ended up buying nothing. That is: I bought 2 outdoor jackets for next to nothing and left them in the car for the rest of the paddling tour, because I wasn’t concentrating properly.

The next day we could finally cross the peaceful lake Mossø – it had apparently lost all the will to try to kill us that was on such a magnificent display the day before. I felt victorious, for no reason at all, and we entered the Gudenå system.

In this system of lakes, connected by the river Gudenå we spent another five days, which were even better than we had expected them to be, though our last long ride was full of rain, cold clouds, damp cows on moisty pastures and – singing, yelling and talking Danish youngsters at our destination. They had moved to our last campsite by cars and joined another group or two. That evening, Denmark won the soccer match against Peru. And we slept like two logs.

“We shall return,” he says a few days after the tour. “We will pack some ear plugs and avoid the high season and campsites in bigger places, but we will return. The river is magnificent.”

It is.


I have done it.

So I went to my client’s event and loved it. Every minute of it.

But the way there …

It all started at home, of course.

My two-weeks-ago-carefully-put-together outfit fell out due to one fact I had ignored when doing the sartorial maths. Luckily, I conjured the next outfit on the spot, as you would, and I still had enough time to check it out. Unluckily, the second outfit wasn’t good enough, either. I did tell you I had nothing to wear?!?!

Like in a fairy tale, it was the third outfit, born out of necessity (aka 5 minutes to go) that was good enough and made me feel well, so off I went.

Only to find myself in an old train half an hour later, wondering whether the 3 guys next to me were going to drink all that beer and what the strap of my brand new bag was doing down there. They didn’t, they were rather nice while sipping their beer, and the strap had gotten somehow detached from the bag – without my help.That something like this should happen!

So now what? What now so? Now what so?

Ahhh, my brain cell went, you have some safety pins in your kaputted bag – use them. So I did. The bag lasted till I made the first few steps in the small town I had been headed to.

Do you know Karstadt? It’s one of those warehouses that are going to be abolished because we all shop cheap things online these days (like bags). Anyway, there was a Karstadt near the venue I was headed for and they sold me a most lovely bag within minutes, made all the sympathetic noises while I told them about my stupid old bag, didn’t wince when I used their surfaces to empty the old bag and fill the new one and wished me a nice evening.

I threw away the old bag, what else and had myself a nice evening.


What have I done?

For a reason I cannot put my finger on, I said Yes. Yes, I can.

Attend a Christmas party of a client’s. Next month.

Now I can’t believe I actually said yes.

The thing is, I am very happy in my moosing cave and don’t really want to leave it for other people. On the other hand, I really want to get to know the people I am in daily e-mail contact with. It cannot hurt.

So before an endless inner war broke out, I said yes.

Now I have nothing to wear.

And what am I going to talk about – work?

And what about my hair?

And how do I get there?

How do I get home?

Why did I say yes?!?

😆

😥


Same old, same old :-)

Yeah. As in: I have fallen for books again, this time it is an administrative law exam I have been studying for. And you know what? The learning materials are really well-written and I enjoy all the reading and learning very much … Didn’t know I would become Oldessa so soon, though. 🙂

I also invited our beloved olive trees inside today, as I wouldn’t want for the Black Forest Freeze to take them, like their younger predecessors. Both our ginkgos are almost leafless now and it is not a sight to be enjoyed.

And now for the most boring bit of news: I have already bought all the presents. Now, where is the corner I should stand in, feeling ashamed?!? 😀


September

Ojej … smo res že zadnjega v avgustu? Kdo mi je ukradel večji del leta – roke gor!

Avgust je bil malo zmešan: vsake toliko sem se spomnila veslanja po Mozeli in se prepustila valovanju spominov na krasno poletje, kakor hitro pa sem prenehala biti semtertjametalna, sem brala knjige, ma kaj brala, žvečila in goltala, pri meni nedvoumen znak, da prihaja jesen.

Govorim seveda o svojem prostem času.

No, v prostem času sem tudi kopala jarek okrog bajte in s tem šokirala vaško javnost. Seveda sem že predtem nase pritegnila pozornost z namigi o enakopravnosti moških in žensk, a sem stvari nafocnila piko na i, ko je bilo treba ob skupni fasadi, potrebni obnove, skopati jarek. Prvi sosed skopal tretjino, drugi sosed skopal tretjino, potem pa je tretja soseda (jaz) začela obdelovati še zadnjo tretjino. Mož? V službi! Naslednji dan je seveda pomagal, da ga ne skurijo na barikadi (predvsem pa, ker je to res hotel in je imel časa, moj pač ni len), ma vse skupaj sem zaključila kar sama in postala mičken slavna. Zelo kratek čas, sicer.

Če sem čisto iskrena, mi je prijalo. Ker preveč časa preživim v pisarni, neskončno uživam v telesnih naporih.

Ful bi šla še enkrat v šolo na 1. septembra.

“Moj sanjski poklic je študentka!” sem zadnjič razložila možu svoje sanje za obdobje, ko bom bila zadela na lotu. Pravo sem sicer malce zanemarila (ne bom delala izpita iz ustavnega prava), ma načrtujem vsaj še 3 module, preden dokončno neham. Potem pa … uvod v informatiko. Moram zadevo enkrat pošnofati, ni važno, da sem preneumna zanjo, saj ne bo nihče izvedel.

Ne bo nihče vedel … še dobro, da cenim svojo zasebnost in stvari največkrat najraje zamolčim. Če bi res potrebovala folk za pogovore o sebi, lajfu in vesolju, bi kot dojčefurka zmrznila. Toliko nejevere zaradi mojega načina izražanja in razmišljanja, da bi jo lahko prodajala in obogatela. In kar je še najhuje: med pogovorom sogovornikom gledam v oči!

Res bi se morala kdaj razmisliti nad sabo, pa nimam časa. Knjige.


Kamuna 2017

We arrive at 6 pm and the line is already there. So poetry slam really is something people love, I realize, as much as we do, actually. Listening to excited chats around us I discover how lucky we were to get this possibility to be let in for the first round of poetry competitions. Free of charge on Kamuna Day.
Yes, I am ashamed we haven’t managed to attend any of the poetry slams in our region so far. And it’s not even the money … I guess it’s our village life. Village time.

An hour later a young poet from Karlsruhe, Ana, breaks my heart with her poem. I am of course willing to clap her to win, on the other hand, I don’t want to break any other sentient organs I might have left, so I am a bit relieved she is not the winner of the first battle, even though she is undoubtedly great.

My heart will go on, of course, but I don’t seem to be able to forget her poem for the rest of the KArlsruhe MUseumsNAcht 2017 – a splendid occasion and well worth our village time!

There were ironic, beautiful Black Forest design items competing with Men and Megafauna in the New World, there was wine and laughter and good food, the wonderful Schlosslichtspiele even managed to silence my thoughts for a while, but I still woke up with bits of that poem stuck in my brain the next day.

Am doing much better now.

 

 


Po evropsko

Najbolj me preseneti mavrična zastava: O glej, te pa še nisem videla v kempingu! Potem se spomnim, da bo nemški parlament danes najbrž glasoval za pravico vseh do zakona. Fajn.

Med dopustom v dolini Mozele sem se skoraj vsak dan igrala igrico “Joj, od kod je že ta zastava?” in pri tem uživala, kljub klavrnim rezultatom ugibanja. Zakaj pa imam pametnega moža.

Tudi tuji jeziki mi niso šli najbolje: čolnarski pomoli na Mozeli so opremljeni z napisi, da plavanje, poležavanje, postajanje in druge vrste zlorabe niso dovoljeni. Verboten. Dovoljena sva bila torej samo midva z najinim čolnom na ročni pogon. Kljub temu so na mnogih pomolih poležavali, posedali in postajali plavalci, obiskovalci in ljudje s prostim časom, pogosto najbrž kar prebivalci teh krajev, ki so vsakokrat začudeno pogledali, ko sva primahala s čolnom, nato pa prijazno pozdravili: Hallo. In se potem pogovarjali v svojem maternem jeziku. Kjer pa so se začele moje težave, saj zahodnoslovanskih jezikov enostavno ne ločim med seboj, čeprav razumem posamezne besede. Pri tem pa sem bila tako hudo radovedna, kateri jezik govorijo.
Nisem vprašala.
Ko sva enkrat naletela na madžarsko družinico, se mi je skoraj smehljalo, ker sem vedela, od kod so. Ne pa tudi, o čem govorijo – nič hudega.

Tudi vodička po gradu v Cochemu je bila očitno slovanskega porekla, njeni vokali so bili deloma skrajšani na istih mestih kot moji, kadar sem utrujena. Simpatična punca je šopala dolge nemške zloženke, da sem ji vsake toliko preprosto morala nameniti hvaležen smehljaj. Res pa ne vem, od kod prihaja.

Najbolj od vsega me je zmedel škotski motorist, ki je samo hotel vedeti, ali veslava po reki navzgor ali navzdol, pa ga nisem razumela, ker nisem pričakovala pogovora z njim. Namesto odgovora sem obstala, ga opazovala in brez vsakršnega odziva razmišljala, kaj me je vprašal. That way or that way, je počasi izustil in zamahnil z roko. Zdaj razumem, zakaj materni govorci včasih govorijo počasi in si pomagajo s kretnjami, da bi jih človek res razumel – najbrž je bila moja zamrznitev neprijetna tudi za prijaznega Škota. Peinlich aber wahr.

Ne vem, no, letošnji dopust sva preživela v sosednji zvezni deželi, približno 3 ure stran od doma. Kljub temu je ves čas dogajalo: ljudje od vsepovsod, ogromno Britancev, Nizozemcev, Belgijcev, cel kup tujih jezikov, zastav, vozil … Paše.