Category Archives: VESLAM

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:

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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?!?

😆

😥


Pointen zum Abwinken

“Guck mal, hier schreibt ein Forist über den Andreas, duweißtschon, Andreas Kümmert, der nicht am ESC teilnehmen will: “Wenigstens hat er Rückrad!”

😆 … 😆

“Ob das eine Art Rollator für feige Sänger ist?”

😆 …

“… und alle, die’s werden wollen!”

So früh am Morgen und schon so gut gelaunt. Passiert recht häufig; Das unverschämte Sprücheklopfen nach der Art “Mir-ist-Nix-heilig” haben wir in all diesen Jahren ganz gut vorangetrieben.

Und wir sind passionierte Titanicleser.

Mein lieber mitgackernder Mann kann die Lebensversüßungssprüche sogar im Büro erzählen.

Ich gebe mir meistens Mühe, das nicht zu tun. Nicht, weil ich allein im Büro bin.

Als Ausländerin muss ich zwar laufend Beweise erbringen, integriert zu sein, darf jedoch häufig genug nicht zeigen, dass ich zufällig mal bisschen mehr Integration drauf habe. Manchmal ist es viel nützlicher, dem eigens beauftragten Fachmann nicht mitzuteilen, welche Rechtschreibfehler er begangen hat, und auch nicht davon auszugehen, Muttersprachler seien bereit, mitzulachen oder zu diskutieren.

Dazu müsste man mich ja als eine der Ihresgleichen akzeptieren und das ist nicht dasselbe wie voll integriert, das weiß schließlich jeder.

Sei’s drum: Hauptsache nicht noch einmal ESC gewinnen.


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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I lost my heart in Dalsland. Again.

dalsland

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Water’s Great, Really.

kanada

lokvanj Continue reading


A Quickie, if there ever was one

I don’t know: maybe some of you will remember the boat hull we had ordered back in April, because we wanted to go kayaking and not canoeing this summer?

Well, it arrived today. I’d love to spread some more irony about the timing and the speed of work in Poland, the problem is: it is simply magnificent. 😀

Beautiful, practical, looks robust and everything.

So, obviously, we need to go paddling next weekend, if only to find out whether the new hull will fit the old wooden construction. Common, Sun, it’s your turn to … turn it up a bit, too.


Čakajoč … čolnota

A ste tudi vi že kdaj podlegli mitu, da so Nemci zanesljivi? Pa si želite, da ne bi bili, da bi vam bilo lažje, kjer koli že ste? Ta zgodba je za vas.

– – –

Losuljin mož nekega zimsko-spomladanskega dne ugotovi, da ima masivna guma na kajaku razpoko. Tako kritično – če se zadeva odlomi, pritrjeno kovinsko krmilo lahko nenadoma odpluje, Losulja in njen mož pa v tem primeru morata dokazati, da znata veslati. Veslati in krmariti.

No, saj znava. Ma je prenaporno, na daljše razdalje. 😯

Gospod in gospa Losova sta resnična ljubitelja čolnov in svoj kajak obožujeta. Leseno ogrodje je menda preživelo drugo svetovno vojno, lupina ogrodja iz bombaža in gume pa je precej mlajša, vendar zdaj kot razpočnica povsem neuporabna. In nova precej draga. Mejt in Črmani.

Zato sva po spletu naročila cenejšo kopijo. Pisalo je, da dobava traja 40+ dni. OK. Za vsak slučaj naročiva še malce prezgodaj.

Gospod in gospa Losova še zdaj čakata na frdamani čoln in sploh ne vesta, ali ga bosta dobila pred odhodom na dopust.

Ja, točno tako, midva bi šla na VESLAŠKI dopust.

Podjetje svoje tulifonske ne razkriva, na prijazne dopise (“se pripeljem k vam in zadevo prevzamem osebno, če bo treba”) pa se tudi ne odzivajo.

Nič ne rečem, mogoče pa čoln bo. Zadnji dan pred dopustom. Tako kot moj klobuk iz Slovenije za glave z obiljem las 😆 (nisem omenila rogov, nočem jih strašiti, dovolj hudo je, da sem omenila PayPalo).

Itak imava še kanu, preveč vroče pa tudi ni, tako da lahko vzamem svoj lovsko zeleni, nepremočljivi klobuk z UV-zaščito. Slamnik ipak ni za vse. No, po tihem sem prepričana, da bodo tokrat slovenski izdelovalci klobukov prešišali nemške prodajalce čolnov.

(Tale zapis je nastal iz čiste vraževernosti: bolj bom šimfala čez vse živo, večja je verjetnost, da zadeve dobim Tik Pred Zajci. Dragi ameriški/britanski prjatli: help?)


Mevža pa taka.

“Čaki, bom dala skrinjico na mizo, da-“

*KREŠ BUM KLENK DINGILINGILING. KLONK.*

“AUA!”

“Si se udarila?!?!!

“Ja. AUA.”

“Ma kako…?”

“AUA. ŠAJZE. AUA. Ma nič, pri zapiranju pokrova sem priprla en list od plezalke, pa nisem registrirala, kaj točno počnem, ko sem skrinjico preložila na mizo.”

“Grem po sesalec.”

“Ma ne, kar pusti, je že v glavnem nehalo boleti. Saj je samo leva roka. Bom kar sama posesala in pospravila, za kazen za to neumnost.”

😯

– – –

En teden pozneje ena od mojih omiljenih plezalk še vedno užaljeno pobeša liste in po tihem cmiha in melanholuje v prihajajočo pomlad.

Draga moja, vsak lahko kdaj pade z dveh metrov višine, kar nehi se takole po tihem pritoževati! Če načrtuješ užaljeno ovenitev, boš tako kot vse druge dame pristala v smeteh, na tvoje mesto pa bom preprosto dala novo plezalko.

Torej.

– – –

Jaaaa, vedno, ko te vidim, mi je nerodno. Pa tudi žal mi je za ta šok. Ma, a se lahko prosim nehaš kujati?!?! Drugače ti bom v vodo dala česen!

😈


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