ideas about rhinoceros dentists


Rhinos in Munich?

Well yes, of course. Saw this old photo, and it reminds me of previous summers hereabouts. Wanted to write something a bit more substantial, but this will have to do at the moment. There’s simply too much living going on to sit down and record any of it.

However, this is where I leave my musings, so there will be some such of that here soon.

Purportedly, Yann Martel said:

I like using animals because they help suspend my resder’s disbelief. We have certain ideas about dentists. We don’t have many ideas about rhinoceros dentists.

(Source: rhino quote)

complain about the weather

Waking Life in early morning Munich


A couple of cold sometimes rainy days and the natives are getting restless. ‘Where’d the summer go?‘ they grouse. 

Last summer it was unbearably hot, and so many people would have none of it. You might insist that it’s human nature to complain about the weather, and of course you’d be on to something, yet the dissatisfaction expressed hereabouts seems particularly vigorous. 

Settle down, my dear Münchner…it’s supposed to be nice again this weekend. There’ll be plenty of that hot, blistering sunshine back here soon enough. 

To be clear, I’m poking a little fun here, but I’m sure there are plenty of you who appreciate the weather as it comes. Having grown up in a place where there were two seasons (hot and hotter), I absolutely love living in a place where the seasons are so pronounced.

Soon enough the leaves will turn vibrant shades and we’ll be breaking out our favourite sweaters, but in the meantime? Let’s appreciate what we’ve got right here in front of us. What do you say? 

August all to ourselves

  
Many European cities are empty for the entire month of August. Well, not empty exactly, because there are still plenty of tourists. Yet the locals are gone. None of this is new, by the way. 

Parisians are notorious for abandoning the City of Light and make a mass exodus to the Côte d’Azur and points far beyond. Italian city dwellers aren’t any different I’ve been told. 

And here in Munich? There are plenty of people still here through the first few weeks of August, but it seems like they’re either filling in for those that’re long gone or they’re busily preparing for their own escape. An already emptier than normal city is about to get emptierer. 

That means if you steer clear of the places where tourists flock, you can enjoy some of the most beautiful things our city has to offer. Without others elbowing you out of the way, you can get a seat at your local café. That cool place that does brunch on the weekends? On a Sunday morning, which would be packed to the rafters at any other time of year, your cool brunch is remarkably attainable. 

You want to go to a public swimming pool and actually find a spot on the grass? You won’t be alone there on a sunny day – there are some left over locals, after all. You’re not completely alone; this isn’t exactly a ghost town. However, you will have room to breathe. Not that it’s difficult to breathe here in this beautiful city nestled near the foot of the Alps

If you’re in Munich this August and you think you simply have to get out, then I guess you should do what you must. If you can calm that urge though, there’s quite a lot worth sticking around here for. If you stay here with me, we’ll practically have August all to ourselves

exactly because it’s so dreadfully painful that one has to drop it

last day for me on the Camino

So vividly I remember this last day walking on the Camino. Knowing I’d soon be saying goodbye to the simplicity of a normal day there. Getting up before the sun, pulling on my boots & hoisting my pack before trudging out along The Way.

Bidding farewell to all of it had as deep an impact on me as actually being there to begin with. Knowing I was only going to be at it a single week meant it was always in the back of my head that I had to savour it as much as I possibly could.

Makes me think of other times I’ve had to let go of something meaningful to me. Moments when I’ve known a situation wasn’t good for my well-being, but I so desperately wanted to hold onto it anyway.

One of the illusions of maturity is that when you’re older, you’ll somehow gain wisdom. The fallacy of this is that just because you experienced a setback, or a complete failure even, that  wisdom doesn’t automatically result from the situation. One can be faced with the most obvious life lessons and continue to respond to it all in the same old predetermined manner.

Breaking out of that pattern seems to take a certain amount of persistence. I will NOT keep responding to adversity by banging my head against this wall.

Yet that’s how so many of us approach sick and twisted circumstances. I know that if I just stick with this at all costs, then this time it’ll magically turn out differently.

Nope. Just stop it. Quit. Give up the illusion.

I so enjoy the metaphor of each of us carrying round a huge rock. It’s individual in it’s size and density – some folks just don’t have any use for carrying a small boulder, but they are the exception.

If you were to fully let go of that rock that’s weighing you down, what’d you even have left? My personality is so steeped in holding onto that rock.

It’s my rock, after all. My entire persona is this rock, and I find myself hunched over it quietly insisting that I could never let it go.

Mine,’ I whisper pleadingly. It’s exactly because it’s so dreadfully painful that one has to drop it. ‘Not yours,’ a voice responds. No idea whose voice that was, but the message was unmistakeable. Drop it.

Drop the rock. You might think you could always go pick it up again, but why would you even want to? Just drop the damned thing.

Enjoy the ride while you can, my little Marillen on the Austrian team. This could get a bit bumpier.

IMG_1805

only using this photo for the red and white for Austria

This year’s UEFA European Championship, also referred to as Euro 2016, is already in full swing. I’ve been deliberating writing about this year’s hooligans, which I might still do, but at this point I’m spending so much time just watching as much of the football as I can manage.

Instead, I’m so inspired by how Austria has been doing, that I had to gush about it here. This is definitely a dark horse candidate of a team, if there ever was one. After a disappointing loss in their opening game against Hungary, I think the Austrian team could’ve easily folded under the pressure of playing what most would agree is a far superior Portuguese side.

Not only did they not crumble upon facing these world famous footballers, who I won’t bother mentioning by name, but the Austrians did it with class and panache. Scoreless through the first half, one easily got the feeling that the old world footballers were playing on borrowed time.

As the second half rolled on and the attack of the Portuguese came in successive waves, the lowly Austrian team just kept taking punch after counterpunch. Players were feigning injury and debilitating fouls left and right, which is one of those idiosyncrasies that non football fans love to ridicule. There was plenty of that here – plenty to malign and disparage.

Finally at one point, a penalty shot was awarded. The infamous peacock of a world footballer sauntered up to what the German’s refer to as an ‘Elfmeterschuss‘ (eleven metre shot or more commonly called a ‘penalty‘), and would you believe it? The birdman’s shot didn’t make it to the net, but instead hit the left post.

The style and panache with which the Austrians played this match was undeniably inspiring. There have been a handful of other instances of underdogs exceeding expectations already in this tournament. I’m thrilled I got to see this one as it happened.

Enjoy the ride while you can, my little Marillen. This could get a bit bumpier.

try to encapsulate the Camino in a few short moments of chit chat

a pilgrim daydreaming of the comfort of his armchair

 Not sure where I heard it, but it’s been said that you have a short window of opportunity in which people want to hear about your holidays. 

After ‘How was your break? You were in Spain weren’t you?‘, there’s a few moments where you can share generally, before the conversation moves on to what’s been going on in your absence. Or the news of the day or whatever you might normally talk about. 

Of course close friends might be different, and if you had some earth-shattering news to tell, people might perk up and give you a bit more leeway. However, when I think about what I was doing last week, and I try to encapsulate that in a few short moments of chit chat, I find myself sputtering out banalities. 

It was great,’ I reply. ‘Yes, Spain. Northern Spain – flew into Bilbao and then walked along the Camino de Santiago for a week. 

‘No, I didn’t do the whole thing. That’d take six weeks or so, and I just didn’t have that kind of time.’

Then back to daily life. That’s just how it is. To be expected, even. Life moves on. 

The thing is: I do have this blog and this is as good a place as any to leave my impressions from my limited time on the Camino. It wasn’t easy blogging while actually there, so I took photos and wrote down impressions as I was going. Fully intending to keep talking about it long after I returned. 

The photo above is a pilgrim imagining the comfort of home, which made me smile as I saw it while lugging my pack. That night as I was icing my swollen foot and uploading that photo, I was already quite aware that I was going to miss the simplicity of the Camino upon returning to the day to day. 

I walked around my adopted hometown today, as Munich came to life with the bustle of locals and tourists alike. Someone in Spain told me about his having walked the Jakobsweg, which is what the Germans call this pilgrimage – it’s German for the Way of St. James  – from somewhere in the former Yugoslavia. That’s purportedly the ancient way, from what he said. 

There’s a route that goes through the Bavarian Alps, as well. I’m already imagining taking a week sometime and following the way markers toward the French border. Maybe I’ll even take my dogs and see how manageable it is to find a place to stay along the way where they’d also be welcome. 

In the meantime, I’m looking at photos that remind me of some of my better moments following The Way and I’m doing my best to bring the best of that Spirit to my daily life here back at home. 

Here’s one of the only photos I have of me while I was out there:

And struggle in the darkness troubling my eyes

This left foot has been giving me trouble for days


Well, my week on the Camino de Santiago has sadly come to an end. I know I’ve gone on and on about my feet, but that’s what people on a pilgrimage talk about. It’s rather important, to be fair. 

poppies along The Way


This was one of the nicer photos from my last day of walking, and just looking at it makes me want to rearrange my flight from Bilbao and keep walking toward Santiago

waking with the roosters


If you get up with most of the other pilgrims, there’s a good chance you’ll be greeting the sun. Yet because you’re generally walking westwards, the sunlight is shining on your back. 

a selfie with me caring for my feet


Most days begin and end with obsessive foot maintenance. It’s on the mind of nearly everyone on the Camino. And a helpful tip for how to care for your doggies is on the tip of almost every pilgrim’s tongue. 

still one of my favourite shots of my time on the Camino


I can’t believe so much has happened in such a short week. The thought of continuing on all the way to Santiago makes me so envious of my fellow pilgrims who I’ve been walking with the last days. 

I’m reminded of one of Joni Mitchell‘s songs in which she ponders some of the same things I’ve been thinking about while pilgrimming.  

Hoping and hoping

As if by my weak faith

The spirit of this world

Would heal and rise

Vast are the shadows

That straddle and strafe

And struggle in the darkness

Troubling my eyes

From the song Slouching Towards Bethlehem