The wind is getting stronger every day, the current forecast for Saturday is 78km/h. The storm will catch me offshore behind Barcelona. You don’t really need a kite to fly there. Jacket on and take off. The planes will stay on the ground, the ships in the harbour and the gondola up Montjüic will be shut down. I wait full of anticipation.
I can’t find a pair of neoprene gloves anywhere in Barcelona, let alone a balaclava. Even though the Barcelonians are walking around in their thickest polar coats at 12 degrees. How could they ever go kitesurfing? Like every day, I walk several kilometres through Barcelona. Today I’m going to the old castle on Montjüic. The wind blows cold around the old cannons. (more…)
Barcelona Blues
I’m getting the Barcelona blues. Kids everywhere, lots of drunk people, lots of dead bodies. The Spanish course is slowly becoming more demanding, the vocabulary is growing faster and faster. After today’s course I’ll check the wind again. There’s a big storm on Saturday, the current forecast is around 55km/h. You should do what you’re told, so I’ll say: it’s going to be ridden!
I go up to Montjüic, pack my board and kite, don’t forget my longsleeve. Back down the hill into town. As always, the best things happen by chance. Sure, architects always know everything, and intelligent people have something like a gift for deduction. The fact that I’m suddenly standing in front of the Barcelona Pavilion in Barcelona of all places is something I really couldn’t have imagined. (more…)
Jesus from Barcelona
Do you know Big Lebowski? Yes? And his deadly erotic bowling opponent Jesus? Yes? Here in Barcelona, everyone is Jesus in three ways. Firstly: Barcelonians are vain. What they consider to be good taste sometimes far surpasses Jesus’ outfit. They move more gracefully and probably don’t have a faecal language anywhere near comparable. But they are all a little bit Jesus.
Visitors to Barcelona are also Jesus. I sneeze. Everyone calls me Jesus. I blow my nose with an illuminating grin. But the best thing of all is the wine: in Barcelona, wine is cheaper than water. So you can easily turn water into wine at any time by bartering. That makes every person in Barcelona a potential messiah. (more…)
Via the Carmargue to Barcelona
Winter is great. Even self-confessed late risers can claim to be on the road before sunrise. Around seven o’clock, after a total of 700 kilometres, I slowly run out of petrol. The first petrol station is closed, as is the second. The third only has diesel for lorries (?), the fourth doesn’t take any of my cards. Numbers five and six are barricaded, seven again won’t take my cards. The sun rises and my courage sets.
After 763.7 kilometres I finally find a petrol station with a friendly attendant who can read my cards. She will never know how close she came to being snogged by me. I drive on to the white wild horses of the Carmargue in the Rhone delta on the Mediterranean. (more…)
From Bern to Avignon
In the evening I meet Mr Marek in Bern. He is exactly the same as he was two years ago in Regensburg. We go to the old town. I invite him to dinner for his birthday. The cuisine in Bern is much more French. My duck breast in orange and port wine sauce explodes in my mouth. The declared goal for the next two weeks: to gain less than 1kg a day.
The second stop of the evening is an old school building. The gymnasium now houses a bar. Previously all for, now all against health. We then move on to the riding hall, a former squat. Marek tells stories of junkies who shot up in front of him in the pub. Today, Biedermeier people smoke weed here. (more…)
The Swiss Gourmet Championship
Swiss farmhouse bread with local butter. Scallops with wild boar carpaccio and Asian cream. Salad vinaigrette with peca nuts. Parmesan cream soup with croutons and radishes. Beef fillet cubes with roasted apples and glazed vegetables.
Never in my life have I eaten so much good, classy food in such a short space of time. Within 60 hours I had tasted 27 Gault-Millau toques. Food in Switzerland is expensive. The good thing is that really good food hardly costs any more. So I play Bacchus and forget about my bank account. 1.5 years ago, I set off on a trip around the world with almost no money. If I come home exactly the same, then everything will be fine, right? (more…)
Snowboarding in Andermatt
Andrea has two days off. We drive an hour to Andermatt. We take the Glacier Express up to over 2000 metres to go snowboarding. My first day in the snow for more than two years. Snowboarding is not like cycling. You forget how to do it. The snow is two weeks old and hard, my legs are shaky. I feel my way down the slope on imaginary crutches.
It only gets better after a while. Snowboarding is actually very similar to kitesurfing. Nevertheless, the falls when kitesurfing are more fun due to the lack of pain. The ski area near the Gotthard is quite small, only a few lifts, but nice pistes and quite cheap by Swiss standards. Then the sun comes out and there’s nothing left to be happy about anyway. (more…)
The last journey
After almost a month of searching and a week of worrying about the rental contract, I finally get my dream flat in an old art nouveau villa in the centre of Regensburg. My own place. The end of a year and a half of travelling, the beginning of a new home in an old city. I’m almost running myself to death organising everything for the move in February. Then I’ll go travelling one last time.
The tour takes me via Munich pubs and Zurich, first to Zug in Switzerland to go snowboarding. From there on to Bern to see old friends at night. Then kitesurfing with the wild horses in the French Carmargue. The final destination of the trip is Barcelona to learn Spanish for a fortnight and to do some World Wide Web design one last time. (more…)
VIP can’t dance
On the journey from Vienna to Bavaria, a single bright star stands out in the red evening sky. In the south over the mountains. Then it gets dark. I almost fall asleep again and again and hardly notice anything of the journey. There’s snow at home. A car is being emptied. Letters are read, emails answered. Homepages are created and food is eaten. Life is lived.
If everything is done passively, of course it sucks. So off to Munich, Dave calls for a mashup party www.bootiemunich.com. A bit of home. Bavarian beer at the Greek restaurant. Active evening organisation. We’re on the VIP list, like almost everyone else. The sound is 2 Many DJs, brilliant mixes of different songs in parallel. The crowds go wild, the mates drink. (more…)
Restaurant and pub guide Vienna
I promised this one. Because I was able to get to know many beautiful places in Vienna with lots of good people. Lots of pubs, lots of restaurants, lots of nights out. I will miss Vienna.
Pubs in Vienna
Chic indie cinema and colourful, somewhat hip bar. You sit in the foyer, DJs play good electronic sound. Weird birds and old punk grannies sit on the cracked couches. Every now and then a sandler is kicked out. But that never disturbs the peace.[Map] (more…)
A conciliatory ending
At the end of my last three weeks in Cabarete, the wind finally returns. Tentatively at first, a little breeze, but after six days of calm and rain, it’s a sign of things to come. From three o’clock onwards, a nice 20 knots are blowing on the kite beach. The wind is extremely gusty, the waves are mean, high and coming from different directions. But that doesn’t matter. The main thing is wind.
I keep going out to the reef and playing catch with the breakers. I escape all but one of them. It bites me on the bum and rolls over me. Nothing happens. When I surface, a fat turtle is suddenly right next to me and stares at me. Not the only one that day. By the evening, I must have seen a dozen large sea turtles. The oldest sea dweller meets the youngest. (more…)
Caribbean gloom
It has been raining almost non-stop for four days. Heavy thunderstorms cause rivers to overflow and reduce visibility to 50 metres a day. I take advantage of a short break in the rain to walk back to Cabarete from the absolutely windless kitebeach on the beach. It lasts until the halfway point, then I get a clean shower.
The kite camp is almost empty, all my friends have gone. There are currently only two of us here. The day before yesterday, Ali gave us a bottle of rum, which we completely emptied during a fruitless round of poker. After that I felt sick for two days. I’ve been working at least six hours a day for days, my holiday is over. (more…)
Poverty & wealth in Cabarete
Just a moment ago, I was happy about differences in opinions and views. Today, there is one difference in the Dominican Republic that really gets to me: The one between rich and poor. It’s not that it’s something new. There has always been poverty and wealth here. What strikes me now is the gap in between, which is widening dramatically.
The average per capita income has doubled in the last 10 years. 20% of the rich earned five times more, 80% of the poor half as much. What did José, the exiled Dominican on holiday, say? He had never seen so many Hummers and Porsches. The luxury castles are growing everywhere in Cabarete, but only rich foreigners live in them. The peso fluctuates unrationally in relation to economic power. (more…)
Columbus & driving home
Columbus built the first fort in the New World near Cabarete in 1492. It was more of an emergency solution, similar to “Houston, we got a problem”. Of course, there was no radio back then. As one of his three ships was a little too damaged to return to Spain, a few people had to stay behind. They waited in Fort Isabela for their master to return.
Today we are there, quite far out in the West Dominican Pampas. The only visitors. There are no more masters, the ones left behind have been massacred. Not all of them. Those who survived gave Columbus a hell of a reception when he returned. Thanks to our half-Dominican friend José, I get the whole story this time, because the guide only speaks Spanish. (more…)
Dominican Republic by jeep
We hire a jeep for two days. On the first day, we are accompanied by three young Frenchmen from Martinique. Our first stop is Playa Grande, one of the most beautiful beaches in the Dominican Republic. Our breakfast is served directly on the beach: Grilled red snapper with fried bananas, rice and salad. We watch the surfers in the big waves. The friendly chefs charge perverse prices.
During my four visits to the Dominican Republic, I must have ridden 2000 kilometres on my motorbike. The roads have always been bad. Everyone drove like idiots, see“Traffic in the Dominican Republic“. But the roads have never been as bad as they are now. (more…)
Diving in the terrourist camp
Nobody can just kitesurf all the time. After five days on the water, we want to get under it today. We book a dive in Sosua. The introduction takes place in the pool of a terrourist camp. There really are people who fly halfway around the world to be imprisoned. Not just in Guantanamo.
The terrourist camp is a good distance from Cabarete. So that the terrourists don’t get the idea of having any kind of contact with the indigenous people. With the exception of the beach vendors with coconuts. And the reanimatos with funny games like horseshoes. The typical terrourist is usually fat and sluggish. They are already sipping Cuba Libre at eleven in the morning. You can’t stand the techno drone without being drunk. (more…)
Kitesurfing in the Caribbean
Sabine’s infection jumps over to me. The wind blows laminar side onshore at a perfect 15-20 knots for four days in a row. If I was a true German, I’d have to grumble about the seaweed in the water. But otherwise I wouldn’t be able to think of anything else. Everything is perfect, the sun is shining, the wind is blowing and Cuba is getting a good clearing every evening.
Every lunchtime we take the shuttle from Ali’s camp to the kite club. Sabine always has an uneasy stomach beforehand, with all the joyful anticipation mixed with a little anxiety. This mixture is hellishly energising. Some days I stand on the beach and wonder whether I can still master the wind. But the XBow simply flattens out every gust. (more…)
A serious infection
My diabolical plan is thwarted by a serious infection. Sabine touched one of those long things on the beach. Her mum had warned her about it just before she set off. But Sabine’s upbringing was anti-authoritarian. The virus jumped over to her in the same second of first contact. By evening number one, she already has very strange facial features.
She enjoys the little trainer kite. On day two, she goes straight to the 8m² bowkite with her instructor. You can see her grin 300 metres into the wind. It stays windy until the evening. On day three, the infection worsens, she learns about the power of the wind, practises the water start on land and running in the water. (more…)
Of Motorbikes, Mountain Flowers & Terrourists
On the evening of the third day, the rain finally stops. We hire a scooter and set off for the Cordillera Central. In Sabaneta de Yasica, a Swat team has just struck with pump guns and machine guns. The Dominican villagers stand around like relatives of recently snatched meerkats. The hinterland of Cabarete is mountainous. Palm trees, donkeys, rivers and petrol from rum bottles.
The next morning we drive through hell to paradise. It was bad four years ago. The roads had more holes than tar. That’s different now. But there are even more massive stinker trucks on the way to Puerto Plata. Last time I thought: “Shit, they drive like idiots”. Now I think they’re all angels. I rode 1000km on a motorbike in Vietnam. (more…)
Condor to Cabarete
Finally away from the German autumn! After an almost sleepless night, we take the train to Frankfurt. The train is on time, the plane is not. There are lots of my favourite people scurrying around at the airport: German holidaymakers. They expect only the best, know a lot, see little, like to complain and never think what they experience is the best of the best.
We go through all the checks (How much longer will it take?), off to the gate, out again (Why do we have to wait so long?), back in again (Can you give me the ticket?) and finally onto the Condor to Cabarete. For the first time in 20 flights, my knees don’t hit the seat in front of me. After 16 hours of travelling, the sun sets blood red over the Caribbean clouds. (more…)
Beyond the horizon it goes on…
It’s hard to believe it when you can’t even see the horizon because of the cold, cloudy autumn fog. Then, at some point in the afternoon, the fog lifts. You can briefly see the horizon behind the burning autumn leaves. Looks at the autumn leaves. Grin into the sun. Then you focus on the distance again. And in no time at all, it’s dark, cold and wet again.
I didn’t even notice how warm it was when I was travelling around the world. Now I realise all the more how cold it is. I’m permanently freezing, longing for the palm trees of Fiji, the deserts of Nevada, the jungles of Thailand and even the stupid Australian outback. Kettcar to this: Recognising that you’ve been happy is easy. Recognising that you are happy is an art. (more…)
Elections in Bavaria & Austria
The election results in Bavaria and Austria were landslides. In Austria the dirt is brown, in Bavaria rather black. Austrians and Bavarians were very frustrated by parties that only talk to the people but don’t listen to them. Politicians freely used the programmes of the opposing parties. There were hardly any points of view left, just pap.
Who wins under such conditions is clear: anyone who makes a name for themselves as extreme. Bavaria will soon have a latex dominatrix in government. That’s still halfway funny because she will probably continue to wear black clothes. But I feel sorry for Austria. In some districts of Vienna, the right-wingers got over 50% of the vote. Are Austrians the better Nazis, or have they finally shouted out their Leyd? (more…)
End of summer on the Salza
Tom beats me to kayaking. I love kayaking, but the last few weeks have flown by. And I was dead tired the whole flight. That’s actually funny. The whole world trip was much more exhausting than the work and the nights here. Nevertheless, I usually got by on six hours’ sleep. Back here, I could sleep 10 hours a day. And when I do, it’s still not enough.
We drive to Wildalpen on the Salza. After three hours on the motorway and over 100 km of winding country roads, we arrive at the Naturfreunde campsite in Wildalpen after dark. The water of the Salza is rushing at low level in the riverbed. The campfires are smoking and the air is cold at the end of a much too short summer. (more…)
Walk on the wild side
After almost four weeks in Vienna, I suddenly realise that I haven’t actually taken a day off at all. I’ve worked every day, most of them completely. Will be cancelled today. The wind forecast is right, we’re going to Lake Neusiedl. The north-north beach is closed due to a regatta. The lido is much better for launching anyway.
After almost two months of permanent calm in Germany, Italy, Croatia, Slovenia and Austria, my new XBow is finally being used. Wonderful. The kite will be a lot of fun for a long time. Nice depower, somewhat high holding power, but also plenty of upward pull. On the lake, 150 kiters stand close together, 14 knots are enough to test the new kite for 1.5 hours. (more…)
Sri Thai snack bar Vienna
There are places that make history, and there are places that are history. The Sri Thai Imbiss Wien belongs to the latter. The reputation of Sri Thai Imbiss Wien is legendary, it is said to be the best Thai snack bar in Vienna. Numerous newspapers have reported on it, and much praise has been heaped on it. The food certainly deserves praise too. The rest of it, however, does not.
Sabine warns me: Sri Thai Imbiss Vienna is something very special. Rumours are circulating about bans on laughing, the toilet in the neighbour’s cellar and slightly longer waiting times for food. It’s the same with the Sri Thai Imbiss Wien as with any other celebrity in the world: no-one talks about it anymore without a few quirks. Well, I’m here. I have something to say. (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.