Nothing is worse for kiters than a lull. Everyone gets grumpy, some get scabies. A pitiable radical splinter group smashes the skulls of surfers. I make plans to go to the Sahara. 750km oneway, cars are only available from local hire companies and expensive. However, after a broken boot lid on my last trip 15 years ago, my confidence is a little shaken.
I feel like I’m in a book by Garcia Marquez. I’ve forgotten which one exactly. It’s hot and humid. My glasses fog up during the nightly revelry in the pirate’s den when it rains outside. My six-hamster cage has been converted into a cage and I’m now alone in it. I’m working and waiting for the wind from hell, which will hopefully arrive in six days’ time. (more…)
Essaouira
Essaouira is an old Portuguese trading post. Clouds push the sultriness down, intensified by the complete absence of wind. Anyone who says that the most important ingredient of 1001 Nights is heroes is a bulimic. The only important things are the stench and the scent of the sky. In the morning I wake up in a windowless 12m² six-bed room. When I return from the bathroom, I’m green with envy: I’ll never be able to stink like this on my own.
The roof terrace on the fourth floor offers a view of hundreds of courtyard houses. The outside, and especially the top, is pretty run-down, but the inside is whitewashed. Cats lie on piles of rubbish. The medina is an incredible labyrinth. I count 202 corners and find two right angles. Open manhole, deadly stench. Nana mint on the next corner, then a fish market and mountains of spices. (more…)
Travelling And Smoking
Some things just don’t go together: George Bush and intelligence tests. Dieter Bohlen and groove. Heroes in tights. Sea and calm. Others are absolute dream teams: chips and ketchup, white wine and water, Ray Liotta and broken mafia characters or travelling and smoking.
I always smoke a lot when travelling. Maintaining an age-old tradition. Back then, on the Eurasian steppe: a biped smells smoke. Even back then, smoke meant: “Go travelling or your balls will burn!” So quickly reduce the take-off weight and set off for new destinations. I’m standing on the observation deck of Nuremberg Airport. The smoke trails behind the jets. (more…)
Kitesurfing In Egypt
The forecast for kitesurfing in Egypt was bad for a whole week. We were hoping for two good days in Hurghada. Well, that meant at least twelve knots of wind. It turned out differently. Completely different. After a day of de-jetlagging, the forecast for the next day is good. At seven o’clock in the morning, we are the first ones on the densely built-up beach of the Grand Hotel in Hurghada.
300 permanently installed parasols every metre. A wide swimming area, 20 metres of space for kitesurfing. A jetty and restaurant directly downwind. Outside on the water there are loads of anchored boats, buoys and a gusty wind. Tobi oversleeps, so I go out first. Not nice. If Viktoria Regensburg were a kitesurfer, she would love this slalom course. (more…)
Revolution In Egypt
Egypt has been a sell-out since the beginning of the revolution. Even after an apparently successful outcome, there is no end in sight. You can get a week in a 5-star hotel with a flight for 260 euros. I wonder what is better: stay away and skip the funeral feast or fly there and at least secure work for the remaining 20% of Egyptians.
We need sun. We need wind. We decide in favour of the latter. We set off for Egypt late at night from Linz and Vienna. We go through passport control at the airport unchecked. There is a recall, but nobody notices that we are simply left sitting there. From above, Hurghada looks like a Christmas tree at night. But that’s deceptive. I was here five years ago. (more…)
Holiday Flat In Cilento
While looking for a new holiday destination in Italy, we came across the Cilento region on the internet. We have been travelling all over Italy for years – but we were initially unfamiliar with Cilento. The pictures we discovered of the region promised a dreamlike landscape.
According to the information, you can combine a beach, cultural and hiking holiday in Cilento, which starts around 100 kilometres south of Naples. We booked a great holiday flat in Marina di Camerota right on the beach online. We travelled to Cilento from Munich by car – which takes a little time, but a stopover in Florence is also worthwhile. (more…)
Fuerteventura @ Flag Beach!
Flag Beach organises a barbecue. The night afterwards is long, weird and unhealthy. The wind finally comes on Saturday, but I don’t get out of bed all day. Sunday the name finally fits: Fuerteventura @ Flag Beach. The wind has finally shifted and is blowing stubbornly with 15-30 knots sideshore from the south.
Many stay on the beach today. Wrong kite sizes or fear of the gusts. They should all be sent to the Brombachsee for a cure. The gusts are pretty rough, but compared to the Brombachsee they’re still pretty nice. I still sometimes ride my 12s hanging on the last end of the depower. (more…)
Travelling And Travelling
I wonder what the best way to travel is. I know a few that are definitely bad. But none that are always right. I’m currently asking myself that on Fuerteventura. Even though the wind yield was more than poor, we saw and experienced a lot. We completely overlooked other things. Dominik is probably just arriving home for the winter. I’m staying here for another week.
Travelling alone is always different to travelling together. It’s more strenuous, less secure and usually much more expensive because of the rooms. Nevertheless, both are good. When you’re travelling alone, you see completely different things. I didn’t notice how empty everything was here last week. (more…)
Storm Over Fuerteventura
One of the heaviest storms of the year is approaching Fuerteventura. At Flag Beach, the wind is already blowing full offshore with up to 35 knots the day before. The rescue boat is still broken. We head south to Gran Tarajal. A thunderstorm including a downpour unloads over us. Then the wind comes back. But unfortunately not enough, and totally stubborn.
Dominik alternates between overpower and underpower for a few laps. I flub his kite twice in wind holes in the water before I even get on the board. We head back to Corralejo. In the evening, the wind is blowing at over 55 knots. The car shakes in every gust. The storm is here. (more…)
Kitesurfing In Sotavento
The morning after is terrible, breakfast unthinkable. A wind-seeking Italian from yesterday reports good wind. We drive another 120 kilometres to Sotavento and are among the first on the water at midday. The next six hours are a dream. In an initial 15 knots of sideshore, we take quite large kites and fight our way through the battlefield of popping kite students.
Everything is perfect. Dominik’s first ocean kiting. High jumps, laminar wind, 200 metre wide beach, space until you drop. Almost perfect. At some point Dominik feels sick because of the last night shift. Or because of the McBreakfast. In any case, he gives the tip that it’s better not to throw up upwind of your own kite. Downwind would be much more appropriate. (more…)
Spot Search & Poker
The wind remains westerly the next day too, which means full offshore at Flag Beach. We spend the whole day travelling to every conceivable bay that looks kiteable on Google Maps. Kitebar with a westerly wind requires a coastline to the north or south.
Puerto Lajas: black volcanic sand, but again only rough volcanic rocks with thick bone-crushing holes at the nod exit south. Caleta del Fueste: A small sandy bay, but covered from the wind thanks to the many hotels behind it and too crowded even in the low season. Gran Tarajal: Beautiful sandy bay facing south, but there is not enough wind. Tarajalejo: Long free sandy beach, again no wind. Down to Rene Eglis Sotavento. (more…)
Offshore And Engine Damage
We are surprised by a heavy downpour at the bus stop. One of three rainy days in November on Fuerteventura is now a thing of the past. The bus to Flag Beach is cheap, but you still have to walk a kilometre with 30kg of equipment. Sport before sport is bearable, sport after sport is absolute rubbish.
There are things that are simply never good together: blow-drying in the bathtub. Blind cow on the motorway. Unprotected sex in South Africa. The wind only blows from the east 10% of the time here, so fully offshore. Today is 10%. Wouldn’t be too bad on its own. But together with an engine failure on the only rescue boat far and wide, it’s hell in heaven. (more…)
Better Fuerte Than Ice Tea
Time to travel. Travelling through the first snow flurries of the year to the airport before dawn. Air Berlin has a new slogan: fly full. After an exuberant breakfast, the stewardess notices my pitifully questioning look through the hole in the centre of my lox bagel. Humming quietly “All this and much more”, I fall asleep lying across four seats.
The last time Dominik was on holiday was two years ago. Iberia swallowed his suitcase – without a trace and to this day. His kiteboard is the very last thing to come off the conveyor belt. From then on, everything can only be good. The wind forecasts for the next few days on Fuerteventura range from great to surreal. Our apartment has a terrace with direct access to the pool – it’s in the centre of Corralejo and is ridiculously cheap. (more…)
Provence
The Sommières tourist board calls me to Provence to create a new website. At dawn, before the first motorway service station, a fox commits hara-kiri on my bumper. As thanks for my toughness, he takes a fog light with him into nirvana and now lights the way home for the hedgehogs.
The journey eats up the kilometres, in a frenzy all the way to Avignon. After 11 hours, we arrive at dusk. The papal palace is dark and the bridge is already closed. In the chilly October, we wander through the almost deserted old town. (more…)
Ode To Filmbühne
Ground control lost contact with Major Tom years ago. We are no longer heroes. We don’t build castles out of sand. The only thing I ever managed to do was to get it on the toilet door of the new film stage. Today I’m standing in front of this door again and see a sticker in front of my face: Down with the manhood craze!
Nobody is playing the doctors on me today. No circles are closing. It’s like always, and always means: reading too much Bukowski doesn’t work, just too much limping after the same dreams. The theatre people scattered all over the world years ago, and with them all the magic of nights that I will always praise. (more…)
Rhodes For The Second Time
Sotos needs my services as a web designer for his kitesurfing school in Greece. We set off from the most miserable German summer ever to Rhodes. Strong winds greet us at the airport. After a short transfer, we arrive at the Hotel Delfini in Fanes.
We already liked the hotel three months ago when we were passing through, but it’s only when you stay here for a week that you realise what really fits: A green garden full of works of art. Flowers bloom swaying in the wind. Butterflies and birds fly around the bushes. Turquoise geckos compete with the sea. The food is excellent, the drinks at the beach bar cool. (more…)
Kitesurfing On Rügen
Let’s go to Rügen! The wind had been dead for weeks and the entire summer was non-existent anyway. On our first night on a farm, we experience a small harvest apocalypse. Huge combine harvesters flatten all the fields within a radius of one kilometre until four in the morning. It was probably the first rain-free night on Rügen this “summer”.
The next morning it’s raining cats and dogs again. The chalk cliffs disappear into the grey. Then the wind finally arrives. It is too strong and onshore at Wieker Boden. We cross over to Ummanz and head out to Suhrendorf beach. (more…)
Dresden
Ask me about the most beautiful waterfall in Fiji! Ask me where the sea turtles swim in the Dominican Republic! Ask me about the best of 92% of all gyros stands on Rhodes! Ask me about the most beautiful volcano in New Zealand! But when a couchsurfer asks me: “Which city in Germany should I visit?”: I just stand there like an ox in front of a mountain.
For the blog generation, no spot on the map is whiter than their home country. After much deliberation, I have to admit that I only know three cities in Germany well. That has to change. A customer calls me to Saxony. The afternoon and evening belong to Dresden. (more…)
Better Penance With IKEA
We celebrate for two days and two nights. Sin is followed by repentance. I’m an atheist, so I don’t go to confession. My psychotherapist despaired of me years ago and the Way of St James is too crowded for me. Meditation makes me aggressive. I’m afraid of yoga because of the threatening upper arm muscles of some of my friends. So how can I wash myself clean of sin?
I look out of the window. It’s raining. Perfect! I’m going to make a pilgrimage to IKEA. IKEA on a rainy Saturday turns the innermost human being inside out. Deepest abysses and manifold possibilities of repentance lurk around every corner. IKEA on a rainy Saturday is better than any social pedagogy exam. (more…)
MTB Tour To The Schauinsland
The days between matches pass. There’s a lot to do. In between, preparation for the big MTB tour up the Schauinsland. You have to get to know Freiburg by bike. Cyclists are more important there than cars.
A typical Freiburg street looks like this: 2.5 metres of cycle lane and car lane – green tram lane – 2.5 metres of cycle lane and car lane. Zone 20. If you want to overtake as a car driver, you can only do so at the cost of a jousting tournament against a tram. (more…)
Efcharisto Rhodes!
Thank you Rhodes, it was wonderful! Even if the wind could have blown more: it was always good. Unfortunately, my diabolical plan didn’t work out. I ate at least one gyros a day on average, but not one every day. Some Greeks simply don’t offer fast food.
We spend the last few days in Rhodes Town. During the economic crisis, Trivago sells 4-star accommodation with 5-star dining at the Grand Hotel for next to nothing. The buffet is amazing. Just round the corner you can pay more for a few disgusting orange juices that aren’t freshly squeezed in Erdinger wheat glasses. A weird world. (more…)
Kitesurfing Course Rhodes
Are you looking for a good and affordable kitesurfing course on Rhodes at a really good spot? I’ve been kitesurfing for ten years and have looked at almost 20 spots and kitesurfing schools on Rhodes in the last two weeks. The best is definitely the kitesurfing school in front of the Delfini Hotel in Fanes, north coast of Rhodes.
In Fanes, the wind blows well side-onshore onto the sandy beach, which is up to 40 metres wide and around 300 metres long. I met the kitesurfing instructor Sotos two years ago in Fiji. He teaches patiently, safely and persistently in small groups of a maximum of two students. Kites and boards are completely new from F1. A 10-hour kitesurfing course costs 250 euros including equipment. Best price on Rhodes. (more…)
Living Like God In Greece
Greece has produced countless gods throughout its history. There are just as many ways to live and eat here. Only the differences in quality between Greek restaurants are even greater than those between German web designers. There is everything for nothing and nothing for everything.
Normally you find the nothing for everything preferably in well-populated places. In the old town of Rhodes, you can get micro-portions of bum gyros for maxi-coal, and the ouzo always costs extra. We often ate well for little money in deserted places. Unfortunately, this is not always the rule, it also works the other way round. (more…)
Touring Rhodes
Rhodes has a lot to offer, especially in late spring. Oleander bushes bloom everywhere in riverbeds that are already dry. The mountains are high, the villages beautiful. We ride the quad bike along all the dirt tracks, no matter how dirty, heat up a dry riverbed and get lost in the middle of nowhere.
Just a few kilometres south of Rhodes Town, everything becomes pleasantly empty, wide and quiet. Sometimes we don’t see a car for hours. Every few hundred metres there is a small monastery or a chapel at the side of the road. Sometimes little shrivelled black nuns come out. (more…)
Faliraki
On our way across the island of Rhodes, we make a one-day stopover in Faliraki. Faliraki is the Greek word for “stupid wine”, a very fitting and concise quintessence of everything that is important there: sex and alcohol. The latter, of course, only to get the former.
There is nothing left of the fishing village. A thousand hotels, hundreds of bars and strip clubs and two shops selling Armani towels for four euros. Everything is empty, far too much has been built and nobody earns anything. The many Brits don’t care. Worse is always possible, and lobster is not red even when cooked. (more…)
The Author
Frank Woelky, born in 1973. Kitesurfer since 1998. Since 2006, I have been combining kitesurfing and web design on trips lasting several months off the beaten track.