After a short ride into Germany, I found myself in Ravensburg to visit my friend Birgit who I had met three times in South Africa, and each time by coincidence.
And when walking on the streets, Biggi met a friend who she hadn’t seen since she had returned from Africa, so it was then decided Harold would come for dinner at Biggi’s home. Harold was a chef for twenty years so he said he would cook a good, simple Germanic dish which turned out to be a delicious spatzle with meat sauce.
When we went shopping for supplies, as Biggi has four room-mates, I marveled at the following pictures. Here you can buy food and everything else you need, and return the empties into a machine for credit.
This dude came to the apartment for a party one day and has been living in Biggi’s apartment ever since.
Special Notation: Ugh, big huge Ugh here. I did something I haven’t done since Argentina, I went and erased everything by accident. Well it’s not really me, the internet connection if it goes out while I’m saving I have to go back and if I don’t go back the right way or the connection doesn’t return, well I’m hooped. This kind of situation really is deflating for the mind, for who wants to re-write what you didn’t know in the first place as if you do the second time around. I hate it, really I hate it. Though I am reminded of the blind guy I saw in a documentary, who I’ve mentioned in here before. The blind guy who went travelling to see the world …. people at the borders would try to stop him saying it was too dangerous for a blind tourist to travel alone in Africa but he did anyway. And then one day he was in a hotel room somewhere in Asia I think, and he was writing in his journal for three days, for he’d discovered a revelation and proceeded to expound his great thoughts on paper without stopping, until the third day when the maid awkwardly whispered in his ear that his pen was out of ink. He was devastated. He screamed for her to read through his journal immediately and to tell him what the words said before the ink no longer emptied onto the paper. So she flipped back through the blank pages while the blind man listened to all those empty pages being turned until he had lost count, and then finally she stopped and read the last words written on the paper. I don’t remember what they were, for the real horror was that it was well before he had arrived in Asia, before the hotel he was now in, and before this great three day buzz he had been writing so feverishly. Ugh.
________________________________________________________________
So here I write again …. unwilling yet will do so even though it won’t be the same as before, so it is something else I suppose.
… we had a great dinner, with two more of Biggi’s friends and dog named Kylee? I couldn’t remember their names then so I definitely can’t now. Anyway we had some laughs and ate and drank well into the night.
I’ll say it again and again, people are so good. This is definitely the most important thing I’ve learned on this trip.
At the end of the night I walked back to where I was staying, (even though Biggi offered me one of the vacant beds of her roommates who were away) but got lost wandering the centre of Ravensburg instead, for it always looks different than in the day, the night that is. It was cold and raining and I was so pissed off with myself for not knowing how to find my hotel, while laughing outloud and looking at the beautiful streets and buildings. I eventually stopped someone who was turning off the lights and locking the front door of his restaurant, asking if he knew where I was staying, handing him the keys with the name of the hotel displayed. He didn’t know, but took me inside some kind of after hours gin joint with a whole bunch of men drinking beer in the wee hours, with only one woman who was serving them with that strict kind of way like a sage who is lost. She gave him the directions in German and then he took me outside and pointed for me to go this way and that way and around that bend and across to the right, or the left as is always the case when it is not someone’s mother tongue, which makes getting directions for the last 16 months kind of dubious, cause you aren’t really sure they are sure of what they say, ‘ist es nach links oder rechts’. So as one must do, you remember what they tell you, and interpret the language problem spot of the conversation as a possible question mark, but it didn’t matter as by then I recognized a window or a sign, stumbling into my room and falling onto the bed sighing with great relief that I was now warm and dry.
This hotel is very nice, and the locals come here for lunch and dinner which is always a plus, kinda like a highway grill with loads of parked trucks stopping on their ways.
Each chair back is of a different wooden carving, beautiful.
So later I went for a walk and got lost under the light this time, finding a new book and a toothbrush. Then I went to Biggi’s to talk and laugh some more, and with her friend Barbara who cooked up another German dish, Cabbage in sauce with crepes, delicious.
The roommates would come in every once in a while to prepare themselves a meal, which was always fun as Marius or Joe would come in for a chat while we watched them make their dishes. Food is so much fun, I remember writing.
Later, and much earlier than the night before, I walked home knowing every corner and turn. Biggi had to work in the morning, and has been fighting a cold for a few days and needed her rest.
Look at the load this old woman is carrying on those tiny wheels. I was afraid to watch her mount the bike and go so I left.
So I went to see Biggi, and she has been fighting something for a week now so we had a quiet night to reflect on such things, while talking about this and that which flies through a window like a bird that is just as surprised as you when it hits a reflection of what it sees already. Yeah we talked …. but not much, her voice has gone somewhere for a while …. now I’m just standing here in my new new room hanging some socks to dry in the warmest spots possible, looking for somewhere just the same, contemplating a pen and paper beside a new book I bought before that I haven’t read yet, the one I’d like to write about in my own way some day, little light shadows dancing around singing fiddle dee and fiddle dum.
Excerpt from journal …. Here with Birgit, Biggi, spending the day talking and laughing just like we did in South Africa at the Amber Lagoon, giggling like children we were again, and each time still, I learn more and more why I like her so. Biggi is a good teacher who believes in more than just scholastic endeavors, for she teaches about life too. She told me a story about one of her teenaged students running away from home, and how after three days of being lost and alone and afraid, the runaway girl phoned Mrs. Hummel before her own parents. So Biggi picked up the mother and they drove a few hundred kilometers away to find the girl waiting for them. To conclude the story Biggi said, ‘It was interesting too the conversations after; the mother, the daughter and me riding the road of silence together’.
Today I woke up early feeling strange on my birthday. Though I always feel strange on my birthday, but this time I fear I may have caught Biggi’s bug, so I paid for another night to see what happens next while I lie here thinking, ‘What the hell am I doing here in this world anyway? Wandering around unlike most creatures who have some purpose in mind? It’s weird to just wander around no?’ Then I read all the birthday wishes from all the good people, and now value Facebook which I am reluctant to hold, though at least I feel is a great way to remember friends birthdays which I’ve never been good at anyway, and to say so on their day especially. Thank you. But also I wonder why all my friends in the East don’t do Facebook, or maybe they do I should investigate maybe eh? Peace and Love.
While having a bite to eat after a day of waiting for this flu or cold or whatever to hit me, suddenly Harold appeared in my hotel restaurant. ‘Harold what are you doing here I said laughing. Biggi text’d me and she wanted me to bring you this. No! She’s crazy I don’t need this, oh sweet dear thinking of me when she is already more ill than I.’ That’s a woman for you I was thinking, looking at the man who also delivered; vitamins, a birthday candle, chocolate, apples, biscuits, a poor boy’s vodka, some vitamin that you put in the water normally that I put in my mouth unconsciously while talking with Harold before it started fizzing in my mouth like a rabid dog, ‘Wow thanks I will return this to her tomorrow I don’t need all this stuff’ I said, but drank the half empty poor boy before bed, and kept the birthday candle, the vitamin C release tabs and three mandarin oranges because Biggi insisted the following day when I said thanks after returning saying ‘I’m on a bike I can’t carry all this stuff’, knowing she knew this too.
The next day I walked around a little and slept most of some of the day, my skin hurting to touch but not yet sick really yet. In the evening I got a message from Eckard who I met with his family twice in Argentina, man and woman bikers from Germany with their two girls on the back, (click Argentina to have a look and read to remember or know) anyway, he said he was going to the Horizons Unlimited Meeting and was wondering if I would be there. So I changed my mind about the possibilities ahead thinking, Yeah why not, the camping will do me good and the people will teach me well (though he added the ladies wouldn’t be there for they don’t want the cold).
In the morning I was awoken by Helmut on the phone, another guy I met at the same time as Biggi camping in South Africa around Cape Point, and with all the other gang. (Click on South Africa to know) Two hours later I called Helmut back and we went for lunch and had coffee in his apartment. He told me some great stories and we looked at pictures of stories I had heard but never seen for real. Then I went back to Biggi’s to say good-bye and chill out with her for a few hours and her other room-mate that had returned, Claudia. I wasn’t much into taking pictures today, that’s why the pictures below are not so good but are what they are anyway.
So maybe camping theoretically is not such a good idea right now, but also I believe it is, for I need the exposure to life in it’s ways outside, for I haven’t camped for a long time now, the people with bikes who are excited about travelling, maybe a fire to burn or a problem to solve, and to share and be motivated by others who also travel the same ways but different; to learn, to observe and to be.
Excerpt from email …. What I wanted to say to you Birgit, and to everyone I say good-bye to or they to me, I become like a boy and can’t say anything at all, but when I am walking away or they from me, I think of everything beautiful about you and want to thank you at that moment in time for being you, but still I can’t speak, I just think go now, go before you say stupid things I wish I had said before. xo
Leaving Ravensburg took some time, as the bike wouldn’t turn over. This also happened when I left Chris and Sylvia’s’ back in Switzerland. We figured maybe the battery was just cold sitting for five days. One of the young cooks tried to push me down a street nearby but it wasn’t steep enough, after trying twice. Alright, so we pushed it back in front of the hotel and the older cook brought his car around and we were just about to jump the bike when I was explaining to them that the power was working briefly and then nothing, demonstrating while doing so and viola, I had power so I tried the starter and vrooooom. As I was riding away I figured the battery must be near the end of it’s life and that I would have to be more careful until changing, even though it’s only a year and a half old and has never sat in the cold for an extended period of time. Oh well, so off I went for the Horizon’s Unlimited Meeting.
As I pulled in I was looking for Ekkehard’s bike but found another I recognized but not sure from where or when. And as I was standing there confused, I heard someone yell, ‘I thought I heard a KLR, oh no, a North American is here I was thinking when I heard that sound!’ When I turned to look I saw it was Sebastian from the 2009 Viedma HU meeting in Argentina. So we had a laugh and then I heard a whistle and over came Ekkehard! After setting up my tent and such the three of us were having a beer out front of the restaurant hotel, and along came another bike, for many were rolling in. Ekkehard said, ‘Hmmm a Buell’. ‘A Buell?’, I asked turning to look but the bike had already passed and was drifting up to the camping area. Then the bike turned around so I was watching closely to see who it was, and then while peering in the dark, I realized it was Jan the Flying Dutchman! He bombed down on his Buell before starting his new job on Monday. Yes!!
Trying on Jan’s Clogs, which apparently are ideal for standing around in mucky grass and mud. By the end of the weekend I wished I had some to wear too.
We missed all the presentations that night for we wanted to eat and catch up with our lives. Jan and I were the last to go to sleep, standing by the fire talking.
And we were the last ones to wake up.
While eating breakfast Jens, the organizer of the meeting, and a nice, funny guy too, asked if we wanted to join the ‘Ride Out’, but neither of us were prepared to get ready fast so we declined.
After we got ourselves together, we jumped on the bikes to go 4km’s to the nearest shop to buy supplies, but ended up riding around for it was a beautiful Indian summer day. And what was interesting also was, this was the first time I rode with Jan when his bike could go faster than mine, since South America and his ’43 Harley.
We stopped for cake and coffee at this village, and after getting geared up again the bike was dead, ‘click’. So we tried rocking the bike in gear to move the piston, ‘click’, then we skeptically looked at the slight downward slope of the street and I confirmed no, we wouldn’t be able to start her with this weight, even without the camping gear. After explaining to Jan the symptoms of the bike this last week, I mentioned how I had left the hand grip warmers switch on each time this has happened, even though they don’t draw any power when the ignition is off. Hmmm we were thinking (better start unloading the gear for the push I was thinking too), then I just had the lazy impulse to doggle the warmer switch before leaving it off, and then I turned the key and had power, pressed the ignition and vroooom. Jan said with a smile as we proceeded to gear up again, ‘Strange, the bike started just like that, the battery seems strong’. Electrical we were both thinking, Oh No, not Electrical.
More presentations were offered, and we sat in for one of them, but not the one in the picture below for it was planning an RTW, and the guy seemed very acute in his thinking but I just couldn’t put my brain into that mode now that I am more than half way here. And not to take anything away from this guy who did a presentation to help others prepare, he hadn’t yet left for his trip, but he had some great ideas I could have used back then. Anyway I did hang out for Bjorn’s presentation, a German guy who just came back from Mongolia Russia, lot’s to be learned again.
Jens is such a great guy, positive, organized, cool, funny and a natural speaker. He was giving thanks for everyone, handing out gifts, talking about the variety of different countries which were represented at this years HU meeting. Phenomenal when you hear the facts and look at the people. Love it!
It was nice to see Jan still likes to have his cat naps anytime he pleases.
The next day Jan had to fly up for work the following day.
And then Ekkehard left as he too had to work on Monday. Oh and Daniel who I had met in South Africa was also there but was leaving too, which was also really crazy. What a world.
So I set about trying to find the problem, or at least start eliminating one thing at a time. During breakfast I spoke with a bunch of the guys about the symptoms so I had some more ammunition going in to have a look.
Hugo the Aussie, came round after to see how I was doing, offering his wealth of knowledge which was appreciated as is always the case, I knew I would get to the HU meeting to learn more valuable information, just not working on my bike as the example.
In the end another biker came over to hear the symptoms, he was an electrician so he checked the obvious and tested some spots, he too didn’t know although we were narrowing down the choices it seemed, though the conclusion was that if we couldn’t make the problem happen now, there is no way to tell for sure at this moment. The bike started every time, after cleaning the battery connections, finding a torn cover over the wires for the hand heaters, no damage to the wires, taped those up, fiddled with some things, and put her back together again, vrooom. Later Jens invited everyone along for a walk, what a great idea!
These English Bikers, Martin and Mark, are planning an RTW starting next year, and Florian the German, well I don’t know what he’s doing but he’s a nice guy I know that.
A photo of the last of the bikers to leave the meeting …. an impromptu photo that Jen suggested saying, ‘I want to be in at least one picture too’. Oh and his presentation about his trip in Argentina/Chile was great, and hilarious considering he started the journey by buying two bikes (Suz125′s) he had never seen, that had been left behind in Buenos Aries three years ago, with Kenyan license plates, with no valid papers to travel the country, or let alone into Chile on the back back back roads. At one point in the journey he carried on with only the 1st, 4th and 5th gears.
After cleaning up with Jens, we all headed off in our respective directions. Before I had left I said good-bye to the nice woman in the kitchen, and a sweet young woman named Vera who was serving all of us including the locals who came into eat for the last four days and nights, from 7:30am – midnight. She has worked the last three months without a day off, saving for University, Psychology, and doesn’t get another day off from her various jobs for another two months I think. Anyway, I didn’t even take a picture of sweet Vera, I can’t tell you how many times I heard people saying she has such a sweet smile, and other things too from the guys. Well, I’m also pissed off cause earlier we were talking about how many kisses the German’s use to say hello/good-bye, and the Italians and the French and all the different countries and then I pointed out that Canadian’s hug and sometimes kiss, and even after she said she preferred that too, I still forgot to hug her, and kissed her instead as a German. This is my only regret from the weekend. If you read this Vera, BIG BIG CANADIAN HUG! I owe you one, Markus XO
