Category Archives: FERNWEH

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?



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 …


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



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.

Altmühtal … and living is easy

I don’t need much time to state the obvious this time either: “I really love the Altmühl Valley. It feels so great to be here again. Let’s return in two years or so.”

He agrees. It is not only that we are proud of our daily proven paddling prowess :-), it is also that the Nature in the Altmühl Valley is wonderful and there are many great sights to see and things to do as we splish-splash downriver with our paddles, everything we need safely contained in our boat. Yes, even an alarm clock and a diary (You know, a small notebook with a pencil to write things in. A log, so to say.)

I am sure “Hiking in Kipfenberg Woods” does not make your heart beat faster, why should it, but I assure you this is one of the most beautiful places to sort of get lost in and just walk on, for hours. The soft, lush May everywhere, the strawberries, the birds … Wonderful.

“But your hollandaise is much better, even though this one is probably state of the art,” I mumble, my mouth full of asparagus. The next day, I will try to find out at this same restaurant, Der blaue Hecht, whether Bavarians can do vegan food. Yes, they can: my falafel was delicious AND they managed that without a hint of garlic 🙂

So when not sitting peacefully somewhere in Franken/Bavaria, walking around in the forests or paddling downriver like there was no tomorrow and waving to excited onlookers on the shores, we devoted our time to Roman relicts in the area, of which there are many to see. I especially loved the Roman thermae in Weißenburg and could imagine all the comforts to be had there. Not to forget the cleanliness!

Anyway, I know you are here for the photos, so here we go:

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?!?



Islandija in to.

Sredi vročega poletja se med sprehodom ob počasnem potoku spomnim reči: “Pa če petnajstko praznujeva v Islandiji?”

Edini razlog za to, da vsa drugačna, vsa neenakopravna na nespametno lakoničen način vztrajam na severni strani Črnega gozda, potrebuje samo nekaj sekund za strinjanje: “Ja, zakaj pa ne?”

Pa sva šla.

“Tukaj ni najbolj primerno mesto za delat samomor,” se pomirjujoče prodorno strinjata potnici na nabasanem vlaku, obstalem par metrov od najine vasi, “zid ob tirih je previsok, da bi ga lahko kdo preplezal.” Izkaže se, da je temu res tako, in vlak naju odpelje do mesta.

“Še dobro, da so ga našli,” me potolaži moj dragi, “predstavljaj si, če ga ne bi: tako vsaj veš, da svoje delo dobro opravljajo.” Vidno se strinjam, delno zato, ker se mi zdi, da me varnostnice na letališču še vedno malce opazujejo, medtem ko mi počasi izginja rdečica z lic. Ma če se ne bo kmalu nehal smehljati na meni tako znan način, ki naznanjuje, da ga že zdaj razmetava od bodočega smeha, jim bom kar povedala, da mi je zadevo oblike kreditne kartice, ki jo lahko zložiš v čisto ta pravi, oster nož, podaril kar moj dragi. Za vsak slučaj. Vsekakor sem ga čisto slučajno pozabila v denarnici.

“Islandija je šit!” po angleško v mikrofon simpatične mladenke prijavi čisto ta pravi, bradati islandski hipster v pristanišču v Reykjaviku. “Vso to čakanje na naslednji izbruh vulkana, gledanje kitov, dež-” Neham ga poslušati. Ne verjamem, da ima najbolj pametno predstavo o ceni bolj urbanega lajfa drugod. Islandija je v resnici prekrasna, vsaj če imaš tako veliko srečo kot midva in tam pristaneš v za september neobičajno sončnem obdobju. Islandci so tudi zelo izurjeni, prijetni ponudniki in izvajalci turističnih storitev in so naju pripravili do tega, da sva na koncu potovanja razmerje med ceno in kakovostjo opisala kot izvrstno. Prav res.

“Naše stranke igrajo zelo pomembno vlogo!” Zaradi vetra med vožnjo in ne preveč dobre kakovosti ozvočenja mi zvok njegovega govora gre na živce, ma to, kar pripoveduje privlačen španski mladec na ladji, s katero gremo iskat kite in delfine, je zanimivo. “Dokler obstaja dovolj zanimanja za gledanje kitov, je še mogoče vplivati na njihove lovce, ki jih prodajajo kot meso. Podpišite peticijo proti lovu na kite in ne hodite v restavracije, ki prodajajo kitovo meso, tako jih boste tudi vi pomagali ohraniti pri življenju. Islandci v veliki večini ne jemo kitovega mesa, samo en odstotek ga je in nikoli ni bilo priljubljeno. Se pa na veliko prodaja in ker je zakonodaja bolj ohlapna, je naš trud toliko bolj pomemben.”

Nič ne štekam. Reykjavik je eno od tistih čisto ta pravih nebes za hranoljubce. Tukaj že vegani pogosto dobijo hrano brez česna, da o drugih specialitetah niti ne molčim. Zakaj bi si kdo želel jesti kite? Ne verjamem, da so bolj poceni kot vrtoglavi zneski za prvovrstne gurmanske užitke na vsakem koraku, in tudi hrane za hvaljenje doma je več kot na pretek.

Na večer petnajste obletnice poroke sva tako romantična, da zamudiva polarni sij, ki osrečuje druge obiskovalce Reykjavika. Še zdaj mi je vseeno. Naslednjo noč se podava proti svetilniku, saj je napoved glede polarnega sija izvrstna, vendar se nama ta tokrat, skupaj z vsemi drugimi ponočnimi obiskovalci neosvetljenega rta ob robu mesta, izneveri. Noč je jasna, mrzla in divje romantična in briga me, ali se bo na nebu pojavila značilna zelenkasta svetloba ali ne. Samo, da sva.

Naj torej za trenutek odložim nakladanje in povzamem:

Čas: od ponedeljka do petka. Let iz FRA ob 13.30 (uradno ob 12.35, vendar po prejšnjem letu nekdo ni prevzel prtljage …) in iz RE ob 6.00 (vstajanje ob 2 h …). WOW air – krasen občutek. Lila letalo.

Kraj: Reykjavik, njegov zaliv in Zlati krog.

Prebivališče: hotel Oddson. Je tudi hostel, menda bivša industrijska zgradba. Zgleda krasno, ima vse, kar sva potrebovala, celo mašinco za kavo. Na strehi pod oknom se šopirijo škorci. Na vhodu je nekdo pripopal reklamo za Štajerce.

Živali: en kit (ščukasti kit – Balaenoptera acutorostrata), en delfin (?), kar nekaj ptic (strmoglavec, lumna, ledni viharnik, atlantski viharnik, gaga, mormoni samo kot plišaste živalce za knjižno polico).

Rastline: nekaj grmičevja, ki mu Islandci rečejo gozd. Mah in podobne čudovite zadeve. Slasten paradižnik iz rastlinjaka.

Hrana: krasna.

Pijača: … pivo od dragega zdaj še bolj prija. Krasen brezov liker po imenu Björk. Res!

Jezik: angleščina 🙂 Aja, pa “hvalagummi” pomeni gumijasti kiti (neke vrste gumijasti medvedki za Islandce. Torej ne to, kar bi si človek predstavljal pod imenom hvalagumi 😀 )

Muska: Honeymoon od Lane.

Fotke: na Instagramu in takoj zdej.


Liechtenstein & Switzerland: What a treat!

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Fulda, because why not.

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La dernière excursion – & OOTD



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Glaskogen: Lessons In Love.

“I don’t think I can do that.”

It took me whole 60 seconds to find that out and say it. In my head, exclusively, I do have some pride. Now what? Wisely, I excluded the confession act as a possibility and gave it another try instead. And another one. I still couldn’t do it, but I walked on. Nothing else to do: I had claimed a few weeks ago, loudly and comprehensively, that I should be able to do it, so now it was too late to find out I couldn’t. So I walked on. Just like I’d do in real life, nothing new there for me.

Just before we started packing our rucksacks for a 3-day hiking tour, the rain had decided now was the time to act out the attention whore part and stick to it for some time. Of course it would, this is Sweden, for ticks’ sake! I could only hope my brand new Dalsland tan wouldn’t get rinsed off or mouldy till we get home. Home. Where the bed is. And the shower. Walk on.

Gradually, my body stopped hating me for carrying such a huge load for so long in such a rain and we made 8 kilometers that day. At the end of which, we discovered our first palace: they hadn’t bothered with the red carpet but painted the whole house red instead and inside, there were beds. And an oven. That day, I may or may not have believed in heaven on Earth …

Oh, the rain? It was our devoted companion all along. Jep. One of the most beautiful hiking areas there ever was, admired as water color. With the exception of a few moments, that is. Beautiful moments.

We spent the next night in another red house saying “Germans go home” on one of its walls. Sorry to say we didn’t. We couldn’t. Not after 15 kilometers in the rain and half a ton on our backs. But thank you for the oven and all the wood.

– – –

“Where did you spend your holiday, if I may ask?” The repairman was nice and talkative, so I told him the truth: “In Sweden.” The tremor rattling his body could be seen: “Sweden? Isn’t it … cold and rainy up there?” He checked my chocolate tan again – it must have provoked his question in the first place – and decided to stick to his opinion: “And grey?”

“Yes, it is,” I lied (not wanting all the world and her wife to travel there next summer), “but then, at least there are no mosquitos when the weather’s bad. And it is still very beautiful, Sweden is.”

That’s true. While I was afraid I’d be missing Finland way too much, I found Glaskogen area to be quite similar to our beloved Finnish hiking grounds and that was enough. Oh, and: we had enough sun in Dalsland to enjoy a 5-day paddling tour in the first place.

Strange, though … this year no one exclaimed Spain’s gonna win as soon as they heard us talking German. At least I thought that was strange until I finally had a look at a comprehensible Swedish newspaper: it contained the words Spain, Chile and fiasco. I couldn’t believe it.

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