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Went out with The Boys to ‘Haus Des Waldes‘; a permanent, interactive exhibition about forests, ecosystems, biodiversity, and their role in our lives. They like making sculptures of of natural materials and this one cropped up since our last visit.
I’d like to think I could make something like this in the Very Smallholding, but I probably wouldn’t have the determination to collect all those sticks.
The mill race again, with lamp post for no apparent reason whatsoever.
Maybe I went a bit too far and reached Narnia.
So it turns out that going from working alone and sitting most of the day, to working in a big hospital and running about carrying stuff and patients, is a bit of a shock to the system. I had expected this, but the cunning plan to write three posts and then let them update automatically didn’t work out because of all kinds of boring admin related stuff I had to get through the week before.
It was worth it though. I’ve been working with an incredible team for two weeks and I’ll rather miss going to the hospital on Monday. It’s also shown that I am capable of being an EMT / Rettungsanitäter / Ambo driver, and conversations with the crews who came to the hospital show that my experience at the school was to say the least, atypical, and that there are other options locally.
Meanwhile I’m working out a way to get to the UK without flying, which as usual is proving pretty awkward. I’m trying to find a way from Rottertam Centraal railway station to the ferry port and the P and O website claims there is a bus running from the “Eurolines bus stop Conradstraat, against TNT Post, next to the Albeda building (at the station side of the walking bridge).” Which frankly doesn’t make a lot of sense. Unfortunately their ‘helpline’ puts you on hold, warbles along about how “everyone is a VIP” then cuts you off after a couple of (expensive) minutes. I think I’ve found the location on Google maps, but experience of these things is they are written by people who don’t know the city and have never ridden a bus in their life, so if anyone reading this knows Rotterdam and could confirm the information, I’d be grateful.
While I wait in the holding queue on P and O I’m going to get some work on the rather neglected garden. Last time I was able to go there, the pumpkins were engaged in a battle to the death for world domination, or at least domination of that bit of the world which has cow poo and cardboard covering it, and the grass has grown so high you can’t tell where the beds end and the paths begin.
I’m also going to get some sleep, so if you could leave your comments quietly, that would be great. Thank you.
Exciting new spiraly bicycle path under a railway station. This was a vast improvement on the steep steps we had to deal when we cane through here last year. There was even a ramp back out of the other side as well. Even better, there was a wide, traffic free cycleway across the river about 500 metres away.
It would have been perfect if the route between the spiral and the bridge had been a traffic free cycle route instead of a car park, a patch of waste ground, and a busy road.
Still, one thing at a time. Maybe that’ll be sorted out by next year…
This weekend I made a trip to Bad Urach, in the hope of making a metric century.* Bad Urach is the sort of German town you see on calenders, with a medieval centre, winding cobbled streets, timber framed buildings, street cafés and a chemist claiming to have been in business since 1429. The town has been thankfully well looked after too, with a merciful absence of ugly modern buildings, apart from one brutalist concrete monstrosity that the council must have approved during an office party, but even that was tucked down a side street. The council did manage to make most of the old town pedestrianised so that instead of cars in the centre you get scenes like this.
Of course, just after I took this picture a car came trundling furtively down the road towards the café, probably having taken a wrong turn somewhere. I’m not one to criticise drivers for getting stuck on the wrong road, as I’m especially prone to doing exactly that: my dad still hasn’t forgotten the trauma of driving here while trying to follow instructions like “Turn left here… Oops, that’s a cycleway.” But, dear readers, I would ask one question: if you have unfortunately managed to find yourself driving along a pedestrianised street barely wide enough for your car, and come across a café whose furniture makes it even narrower and thus impossible to pass, do you:
A: Drive back the way you came and find one of the perfectly good, fast roads around the town to get to your destination, or…
B: …get your passenger to alight from the vehicle and move the offending furniture so that you can keep going, because obviously, you need to get somewhere and the furniture is In The Way?
I wonder what they would have done if the tables had been occupied…
*106km as you asked, at an average speed of 19km/h, and my legs let me know about it the next day…
The plan (skip this if you’re read it before) was to go off to north Germany for just under a month and learn how to be an ambulance driver, come home in June, get eight weeks experience and go back for exams in the beginning of August. The plan worked, despite certain practical problems, right up to arriving at the school. Unfortunately that’s where things began to unravel.
The problem was not the many-headed monster, the language or any of the other stuff I was concerned about. It was decibels, specifically coming from our teacher.
He started shouting in the first lesson: this school wasn’t going to be ‘average’; it would be the best; we were going to be pushed to the limit; he’d make us stressed as far as we could bear and then some; his students scored an average of 1.2* and he would make sure we did the same, apparently by shouting. Everything taught each day would have to be learned in its entirety by the next morning. It would be tested by pulling people up to the front and grilling them, and woe betide any student that was not Good Enough.
Quite what this was meant to achieve I don’t know: all it did for me was stop my brain working.
I held out until Monday: the teacher did deal with some of us more carefully than others, but in the end it dawned on me that to stay I’d have to spend the next three weeks trying to make myself fit into the ethos of the school, and that wasn’t the sort of person I am or want to be, and wouldn’t have made me a better ambulance driver either. My identity didn’t need to be wrapped up in being Good Enough for this particular teacher, nor in becoming an ambulance driver by August, so after watching five people get shouted at for an entire lesson I packed my bags and came home.
When I wasn’t avoiding the teacher I was having a great time and enjoying the work, so I’m trying to find another way to get to the same place, maybe by working with the local Red Cross and then applying to a school nearby with more relaxed lessons and less decibles; we’ll see.
In the meantime it’s planting season, and I still want to ride a century this year, I’ve a carpentry apprenticeship to start in September, something fell off Middle Son’s bike, (It is a mystery to me how the boys manage to lose obscure fittings on their bikes, but they do) so I need to get fixing it, and I’ve just realised it’s mothers day in Germany tomorrow.
More normal (ie: Bike and garden related) posts from next week.
*Exams in Germany are typically graded from 1.0 (perfection) down to 4.9 or 5. Britain as usual has to be different so my grades are all in letters, which causes no end of confusion.
Where the lions and tigers and bears might be, and the lumberjacks had already been. (Bigger version here)
If I’m honest, it’s about five minutes after I wrote my last post: I’m going to let this go online automatically so I have a bit of time to get settled in and sort out my internet connection in a castle in the middle of a field.
Here’s the bike that I’ve been working on, and if all goes to plan, the one which will have transported me some of the way to Schloss Daschow and the Nee-Naw training school. The finished result isn’t going to win any beauty competitions but that’s not the point. The point was to make something reliable but not likely to be stolen. (and as it used to look like this, I couldn’t make it any worse anyway)
Stuttgart is filled to the place denoting filled-ness with cars. This is means the bike infrastructure is pretty awful (a point I will probably labour next month when commuting in the city) but on the other hand, it means that the chances of your bike getting nicked isn’t high. This is because hardly anyone wants a bike, because everyone else drives a car.
Now, I’min a region known for cycling*, and thus a place where bikes get nicked more often. Fortunately Stuttgart helped here as well because people chuck all manner of useful stuff away for the diligent scrounger to collect, so I didn’t have to spend too much to get this bike working nicely, fortunately for you I can’t remember what came from where so you’ll be spared the details. so you’re spared the details, although I know the mudguards came free from a pile of ‘rubbish’ I was able to get at before the council picked it up and the luggage rack came from another bike a customer brought into the shop last year to “get rid of it”. I just knew I’d use it one day. The tyres are reused as well, but that doesn’t count because they were mine and I bought them about fifteen years ago in the UK, which makes me feel old. The Boss at the bike shop is convinced they will end their days in a formula-1 style blow-out with bits flying in all directions and throw me into a ditch somewhere.
But then if I’m going to have an accident, a school full of wannabe ambulance drivers is the place to do it…
*Which of course, I’m not, yet, but you get the idea.