<a href="https://kitesurf-reisen.eu/en/journeys/j-slovenia/triglav-en" rel="bookmark" title="Triglav">Triglav

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We spend the whole day travelling north from Losinj via Trieste on 400 km of country roads. As the sun sets, the Soca steams down into the valley. We steam alongside it over the steep Vrsic Pass. The mountains glow on the north side. Our destination is the Aljazev hut at the end of the Vrata Valley in the Triglav National Park. The last light of day. Awe-inspiring views upwards, where the Triglav disappears into the clouds. We can only see its lower half, and even that looks impregnable.

Dinner at the hut is simple and hearty. We reduce our luggage to the bare essentials before tomorrow’s ascent. Ahead of us is a two-day climbing tour to the highest mountain in Slovenia at almost 2900 metres. I fall into bed and sleep like a rock. (more…)

The 24 hours of Cres

Post
#258

1908

2008

Tue

23:12

day #

438

5 k
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We continue southwards. 10,000 years ago, the island of Cres was still mainland. Then a little too much ice melted and Cres was in the sea. The last hostel manager said it wouldn’t be a good idea to cross over just by bike. He was right. Immediately after the ferry, I realised why. The only road goes from the sea practically vertically 500 metres uphill.

Sabine, who’s a fan of the study tour, really wants to see the lammergeiers of Cres. We stop at the vulture centre in Beli. A boring exhibition says a lot for the good cause. We see a poisoned lammergeier with brain damage in the enclosure. In real life and in the wild, they don’t exist. The local stone beach is only impressive because of the parking fees. We fly further south. (more…)

No Hula in Pula

Post
#257

1808

2008

Mon

23:48

day #

437

3.3 k
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We continue southwards. Next stop: Pula, over 2000 years of history. An amphitheatre half the size of the Collosseum in Rome. We cycle through the area. No beautiful beaches anywhere. Everything is full. A tour of the old town in the evening. The food is greasy, bad and expensive. There are jugglers on every corner. We can’t find a single real bar. No Hula a Pula.

Medulin is the Mecca of Croatia’s wind junkies. Well, that is, of course, only as long as I’m not there. Windfinder predicts a week of calm and is right. We fry in the dirt on the crowded beach. Sun cream floats on the water, the stones bite into our feet. There’s nowhere to get to the water, and where you do get there you mutate into an oil sardine. (more…)

Castle towns in Istria

Post
#256

1608

2008

Sat

23:26

day #

435

3.6 k
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Istria was given its current name in 1994 when the Swiss Pierre Rosan realised that money had no value at all in post-communist Yugoslavia: “L’argent, c’est rien ici!” he shouted out at the marina in Umag. Some Germans picked up on the slogan, left out the money (greed is cool!) and Germanised the name. Istria was born.

Arrival. At the border with Slovenia, we are delighted to discover that my European sat nav map material apparently dates back to the time when Slovenia was not yet part of Europe. We drive the last 200 kilometres towards Istria by compass. From Koper onwards, the world comes to an end: heavy thunderstorms are raging, visibility is 50 metres and you could even go boating on the roads. (more…)

Viennese for beginners

Post
#255

1008

2008

Sun

21:56

day #

429

4 k
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Vienna is big, colourful and quirky, old and new. The only annoying thing is that Vienna is full of Viennese. The sun can shine as brightly as it likes, but as soon as someone behind you notices how full their glass is, you simply feel obliged to join in. In all the fun, life is infinitely slow, long and empty.

I’m celebrating my birthday in Vienna. Tom and Christiane are travelling 400km for it. Sabine brings a couple of biologists. On the roof terrace of the Faculty of Biology, Vienna tries to impose its mood on us: For the first time in weeks it’s raining, and it’s raining hard and almost all night. A Hawaiian party is going on next door. Inside. We press ourselves against the wall under a small eaves and refuse to obey the Leyd. (more…)

A bombshell wedding

Post
#254

0208

2008

Sat

23:50

day #

421

3.7 k
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I spend my days commuting between work and friends in Regensburg and Munich. I still don’t feel like I can sit still anywhere again after the long journey. Maybe the change will remain my home. Regensburg. Dj Shantel is playing again. You can recognise beginners by the fact that they are afraid they might get wet because of the rain. I queue for 1.5 hours, then our reserved tickets aren’t there. In other words: we can’t get in. One night in many pubs.

Olli gets married. As he has a sense of humour, he slips on his 10m staircase the day before and breaks his nose. His boxer face prompts every other guest to joke “You should have told her earlier that the marriage wouldn’t work out.” . He takes it very calmly. (more…)

Stuttgart-Reinlichingen

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#253

2007

2008

Sun

22:33

day #

408

3.5 k
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Kai’s party is great, but I always get tired of scout songs very quickly. After the third beer, I fall into the yurt, which is almost impervious to the rain. At dawn, fog rolls through the forest. I pack my things and leave. Tanja in Stuttgart must have been away a bit too much, I can’t reach her.

The streets of Stuttgart show the true Swabian obsession with order. There are more signs than cars. Some I’ve never seen before (environmental zone?). There are two speed traps for every sign. Nobody drives even one kilometre faster than the speed limit. The streets are empty and clean, the parks large and green. You’re not allowed to lie down on the grass unless there’s a sign. That makes it sound like you have to lie down. (more…)

Still life from Nagold

Post
#252

1807

2008

Fri

17:25

day #

406

3.3 k
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A tourist in his own country visits the Black Forest: Nagold, a small town surrounded by dark, steep forests. No parking space in the centre is free, so the forest around it is something completely different. A sign in front of the local CDU association with its 70s-style curtains indicates that parking is prohibited. I park my car. Nagold is quiet, dark and empty this evening. My tour of the town takes 15 minutes.

Hobbingen: The houses may not have grass on the roofs, but there is plenty of wood in the walls. The windows are small. The residents hide behind them. The streets are so clean that the village alcoholics look even dirtier. Two auxiliary hip-hoppers in white gangsta outfits waddle to the nearest hotspot with beer bottles. (more…)

Constance

Post
#251

1607

2008

Wed

23:12

day #

404

3.6 k
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I am in Constance. An Australian import in the making could use some help with her architecture thesis. I offered to help her with the modelling in Melbourne. Always doing what you say is very difficult right now. She is finalising the plans while I build the model of her library. 10-12 hours a day. Eating out. A few hours at night doing my job: web design.

My plan was something between six and eight hours a day. Travelling a bit further and getting to know Germany. But even 10 hours a day is nowhere near enough. Seven days before delivery, there’s still nothing from the model, not even materials and tools. I’m doing what I can, but it can’t be enough, and above all it feels like I’m wasting myself. (more…)

Who can have the atomic bomb?

Post
#250

1407

2008

Mon

9:52

day #

402

4.9 k
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The whole of southern Germany has been in the doldrums for days. Not even a large thunderstorm front from the west brought the hoped-for fresh wind. My kites have been modernising in their bags, my brain has been doing the same in my skull. Nothing is moving. It’s time to go travelling again.

Germany has changed. Sido now raps with censorship bleeps and RTL reporters do black bar reports on nudist beaches. Folk music zombies introduce their moderation with trendy tandem parachute jumps and hotel testers get upset about “unacceptable conditions” in the form of dust. All really important. (more…)

Away From Vienna

Post
#249

0707

2008

Mon

23:24

day #

395

3.4 k
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The last day in Vienna. Going for brunch with Sabine and Georg. Up to the Baumgartner Höhe. Otto Wagner built the Steinhof sanatorium here in 1907. The grounds are so beautiful that you could almost consider becoming a drug addict – just to enjoy a detox within the old walls. An old granny asks for directions to her room.

The Kahlenberg is very busy. The whole of Vienna wants to look down on its city from above over the Grinzing vineyards. In the evening we walk across the Prater. The Schweizerhaus is well stocked, the beer is as stale as promised and the prices are just as salty as the crust on the pork knuckle. I get sick on the chain carousel. Can only ride with lines. The Ferris wheel is just fine. (more…)

Thunderstorm kiting on Lake Neusiedl

Post
#248

0607

2008

Sun

3:18

day #

394

5.3 k
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At lunchtime we drive to Lake Neusiedl. It takes just 45 minutes from the third district. The Austrian holidays have started today. The motorway is full. Masses of wind turbines are turning in the strong wind. The first glimpse of Lake Neusiedl makes me cheer: there must be 100 kiters out there. My first ride in two months, high time.

Lake Neusiedl is huge. But there is only one small legal launch site for kiting. And the nice people of Podersdorf charge a whopping €5.50 entrance fee. Not just for kiters, but also for Sabine, who came along as a spectator. The spot is a good 30 metres wide and about 200 metres long. There are more than 100 kites on the meadow. There are just as many on the water. (more…)

Vienna Calling

Post
#247

0507

2008

Sat

1:33

day #

393

3.4 k
views

I’ve been in Vienna for six days now and apart from a few good pubs and the fan zone, I haven’t seen anything yet. Vienna calling. Work is taking a break today, I’m going into the city. So, Vienna. Wait, that’s the drawer at the bottom right of my chest of drawers: Viennese are rich, loud, annoyingly grumpy and arrogant. Anything else? Ah yes, the alpha’s licence plate of course says “iener” after the W.

That’s how I’ve got to know the Viennese so far. That was mostly when I was snowboarding or kiting. Fortunately, the Viennese aren’t like that at home. Vienna is very colourful. From a multi-ethnic state to a multicultural metropolis. City park. First bank: bums. Second bank: bankers. Third bank: Plemplem. Fourth bank: Rasta. Very funny. (more…)

Of Yesterdays Heurigen

Post
#246

0407

2008

Fri

0:50

day #

392

3.7 k
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I’m learning Austrian. Georg enlightens me: Heurigen is not the wine, Heurigen is the wine tavern that serves it. So Heurigen is not the continuation of the eternally yesterday and is politically more in the moderate centre. Yesterday we definitely went to a Heurigen outside Vienna. It was almost as unhealthy as it was fun.

It’s quite funny to constantly learn something new in the same language and a similar dialect very close to home. I learnt more new words in five days in Vienna than I did in three months in New Zealand. Which certainly doesn’t help me to memorise anything better. Just one thing: the online lamperl from the Heurigen is out. (more…)

European Championship final in Vienna

Post
#245

3006

2008

Mon

19:45

day #

388

3.6 k
views

So I drive to Vienna. Continue travelling. Visiting old and new friends. Three lads from Kelheim join me via Mitfahrgelegenheit.de. Lowers the adrenaline level when refuelling. We arrive four hours later and there’s no major traffic jam for the final game. For the first time I’m really happy about my sat nav. Across Vienna to Sabine. I haven’t seen her for three years.

It’s good to meet people who have been out of sight for a long time. It makes my own travelling seem slower. I drop my camera on the way to the first beer garden. Broken. Only mobile phone pictures today. On to Karlsplatz, extreme drumming, making a boat and listening to a favourite yodel. Finally to the Schickaneder. A pub that fits like a glove. And smoke. Inside! (more…)

We are travelling to Vienna!

Post
#244

2606

2008

Thu

2:55

day #

384

4 k
views

We were never Pabst. But we’re travelling to Vienna for the final on Sunday! We deserved to win the semi-final of the European Championship. In the quarter-finals we were given the 3:1 as a gift, but today the referee stole a penalty from us. We deserved to win 3:2! The motorcade forms up in Regensburg, the drinks are drunk, the carnage doesn’t happen and we can continue to eat expensive rotten meat kebabs with a grin.

We? Germany! I am not Germany. I’m still a traveller. I watch the games from a strange angle. Like rugby in Fiji. I have my favourite. But it’s not “mine”. I’m happy for Germany. Good friends say: “Your country, here!”, and I’m very happy about that. But it’s like surf on a rocky coast. Water against stone. (more…)

Munich

Post
#243

2406

2008

Tue

22:01

day #

382

4.6 k
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Munich is exactly the same as always: everyone drives like idiots, the beer is expensive and nobody speaks Bavarian. I visit David. We move from roast pork to the Isarauen and beer garden to gyros one Sunday. I’ve been here before. Everything is strangely familiar and far away. Another European Championship quarter-final is on in the evening. I sleep through half of it.

Business appointments drive me through Munich on my bike in temperatures of over 30 degrees. I don’t want to live here, I’m glad I’m only here for two days. Everything dissolves a little, even customers. In this case positively, from now on there are two separate HPs to look after. I’m not standing still, but I’m not moving either. I look out onto the street. A summer storm scatters its hailstones over Munich. (more…)

Germany is peculiar

Post
#242

1506

2008

Sun

16:52

day #

373

9.9 k
views

The flight home is good. A large sticker is emblazoned on the tail fin: “We also brake for idiots”. In the skies above Berlin, the pilot flies holding patterns for almost an hour. Bush’s Airforce One has priority. I don’t arrive in Nuremberg until late in the evening. My emails have got stuck, my parents don’t know I’ve arrived.

I’m lying in bed between 400 printed pages for my tax return. I immediately feel German again. Enjoy fast, stable WiFi. Work. Eat pretzels, bread cake, red fruit jelly, beer-battered ham sandwiches and schnitzel. Everything looks the same as it did a year ago. Nothing has changed. “Home” is like a normal stop on the journey. I’ve been here before, I remember. But the connection is missing. (more…)

The farang is the shit

Post
#241

1106

2008

Wed

16:32

day #

369

57.8 k
views

Have you heard the standing term “Bumsbomber to Bangkok”? On the return flight, the thing is called “Stupidly fucked to Berlin” and mainly takes place in the queue in front of the LTU check-in at Bangkok airport. I stand in the middle and listen. The protagonists: two ugly Germans well past their prime. To avoid the danger of self-identification, let’s simply call them “One” and “Two”.

One: “As a farang, you can’t buy property in Thailand. You can set up a company, but only with tricks, and then you don’t own it.”
Two: “Hm.” (more…)

Stoppage time

Post
#240

0906

2008

Mon

16:07

day #

367

4.3 k
views

No, the game is not over yet. There’s injury time. I’m going to the airport. Work offline for a few more hours. Go to check-in 2.5 hours before departure. I’m pleased to see the same woman at the counter who said earlier: “Kiteboard? No problem!”. Then I look for my passport. Search. Search. And search.

In the middle of the airport, I dismantle all my luggage. Unroll every T-shirt, open every bag. A 10 metre long carpet spreads out on the white marble floor. I check every corner of my rucksacks three times. Call the Lub*D again. Nothing. The last time I had my passport was the day before yesterday morning when I was packing. I haven’t taken it out since then. It must have been stolen. (more…)

The end of a long journey

Post
#239

0606

2008

Fri

13:05

day #

364

4.3 k
views

Today is the last day of my long journey. Everything comes to a remarkably quiet end. The sights of Bangkok remain unvisited, I’ve seen enough. Working, chatting, emailing. Going through old stories on the blog. I’m neither sad that my trip is over, nor am I particularly looking forward to going home. I’m somewhere in an empty and quiet centre.

The big realisations have failed to materialise. Friends say I can only recognise them when I get home. The same goes for change. I have become stronger. My bones ache in some places and I’m still chronically tired. But it was all worth it. There are 100,000 beautiful images and moments inside me. (more…)

Bangkok for the last time

Post
#238

0506

2008

Thu

18:36

day #

363

4.5 k
views

My last place, my last days. Bangkok. I have a lot to do. Work, write invoices. Picking up a new pair of glasses that I ordered a month ago. Have a wooden spoon carved, revalidate my London-Munich flight ticket, get my camera repaired again. Most of my last two days are spent shopping. Everything is going well. I have exactly 120 euros left. Done :-)

At home I’ll be playing Christmas in the summer. Father Christmas is red with envy, he’s seen my rucksack. I carry my shopping through hot and humid Bangkok back to the lub*d and make a nice pile of presents. (more…)

The Vuckings Of Pattaya

Post
#237

0206

2008

Mon

22:50

day #

360

11.1 k
views

The Vuckings are a barbaric raiding tribe from the far north. Their skin is white, their beards long, their bellies fat. They are all so ugly that you almost feel sorry for them. They take what they want, questions are superfluous. Fickinger drink and bawl, especially after supposed victories. Everything you’ve ever heard about the Fickingers is true. Except for one thing: they don’t have axes. They have hammers. Very, very small ones.

All joking aside. That was serious. The world is so complicated. Nothing is as it seems. No prejudice can be permanently defended. Pattaya is different. You don’t have to defend anything here. Just open your eyes and write down half-truths. Every illusion becomes the sad truth at the next corner. (more…)

Angkor Wat

Post
#236

0106

2008

Sun

20:28

day #

359

3.8 k
views

We get up before five o’clock. We spend a whole day being chauffeured from temple to temple in Ankor Wat by tuk-tuk. The ticket office is the first attraction. 5.30am, crowds of people. for Cambodian standards, an entrance fee of $20 is outright madness. Of this, 10% goes to monument conservation, the rest goes to a petro-giant and the Ministry of Finance. At least $200,000 a day is apparently not enough. Restorations are paid for by Japan and France.

Ankor Wat, World Heritage Site. You have to go. I’m there now. The sunrise is beautiful. And the rest is just as I imagined it would be. Nothing new, nothing to discover. Even though Tomb Raider was filmed here. After 12 temples, we drive home again. Our brains are muddy, our feet flat. (more…)

Simply tired

Post
#235

2905

2008

Thu

21:32

day #

356