Riding through the hills and looking at the woods beyond underscores it yet one more time: Indian Summer has nothing to do with India (duh), nor with the US or Canadian Indians; or thereabouts. Indian Summer should actually be named German Fall, as over here are all...
In the hilly area this blog’s author lives, it is quite easy to work up a thirst (and a sweat) when biking: There are either winds to work against; or long and steep ascends to climb up. Or both, hills and winds, to cope with: But help is on the way (at least...
The last leg of the tour – and that meant, of course, the last chance to see the sea which I love so much. But the feeling of melancholy was soon forgotten, as something new and very exciting came into sight: the first of the so-called Bodden, virtual lagoons of...
Woke up rather early in the morning. And was wondering what the heck was so funny that so many folks had to laugh so hysterically. And could not stop, not even after minutes and minutes. As soon as they had half-way calmed down, apparently someone had to chuckle and...
