The lull this morning between appointments allows me a few moments to reflect on my short time here. While I didn’t quite get into the city as much as I would have liked to – on my way here, I’d had dreams of networking and meeting loads of new contacts, obtaining freelance contracts gallore from businesses needing an English-speaking (or even just competent) web designer, and learning German so well I could do all of this in German. Needless to say, none of that happened. With all our weekend trips off to explore new places, there was barely a moment to breathe in between each train trip. And the past month I did, thankfully, have some old clients come back to me with new requests for work – something that I always look forward to, but simply can’t rely on. It’s too sporadic.
I haven’t even been able to finish my entry about our second day in Berlin – I will, but after that, I think I shall leave the rest of our weekend trips to the realm of fond memory, where they belong. To go through each one moment by moment seems a little useless, at this stage, as I’ve forgotten most of the details I probably would have enjoyed pointing out. Instead, I may touch upon them in future entries as part of another subject. Rest assured, however, I will certainly post about yarn shops in other cities – I’ve got London and Cologne lined up, right now. I sadly won’t be attempting to do a yarn crawl in Amsterdam, what with us having precisely one day and night there before we must head to the airport for 6 am on Sunday (yeah, you read that right – the moment the party we’re flying to Amsterdam for, Sensation White ends, we have to be at the airport – that’s right, we live large!) to head to Frankfurt and then on to Greece. Yarn crawl just won’t happen.But, back to Bonn. In the early mornings, I often find the morning hustle and bustle of businesses opening, delivery men dropping off mountains of packages to retailers, shopkeepers cleaning their stores, and people heading to work to be a strange sort of immediate momentary comfort, rather than symptoms of the massive problem of consumption that threatens to wipe out our entire world in these times. I think in this case, it’s because I’m an outsider – I’m neither a solid part of the work-a-day, live-to-work, work-to-live world, nor a total consumer, constantly buying things I may or may not need, for social status and the thrill of obtaining new things (though some may challenge that stance).
On my walk to downtown Bonn this morning, I came across the recent aftermath of a terrible motorcycle accident. The bike itself was totalled, a helmet sat upright on the curb with seemingly no damage to it, blood amongst the broken glass on the road. The driver was not to be seen; an ambulance flashed its lights over the scene below and I pondered whether that was a sign the driver was already dead, thinking there would be no ambulance if he weren’t.
I may be an outsider in Bonn, indeed, everywhere I go – but that doesn’t mean that what’s around me isn’t real, as it sometimes feels to me when I wander through it. The accident brought me back to reality a little bit, and made me reflect on the coming potential dangers in Greece.Don’t get me wrong – I’m really looking forward to going there. We’ll be on Crete, an island quite far from Athens, so I’m confident we won’t run into any issues. But it’s certainly interesting to head to a volatile country where anything could happen. I’ve been to one place like that before; now I’m heading to another. My intuition isn’t giving me any warnings, and I’m pretty sure I’m not just confusing it with excitement. I’m really, really looking forward to sand under my toes once again – this is something I crave, frequently. Not just that, but the warm, salt water of the sea or the ocean… it’s going to be fantastic for my skin. And, hopefully my weight… without all the wursts, schnitzel, croissants and beer of Germany, and with the extreme heat of Greece in July, I should be able to shed the developing spare tire that currently threatens my horrifyingly close impending 30s with a permanent residency. I did a quick search for “Yoga” in the area we’ll be staying in, but the only result that seemed even closely legit on Google Maps turned out to be a yoga centre in Ireland. Yeah, I have no idea why it said it was on Crete.
In any case, I should get going. This was not at all what I set out to do this morning at Starbucks, and now it seems I’m running out of time and must head back to the room soon to finish packing. As always, thanks for reading.






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