Serendipity - one of the spices of life

In the English language - or in the UK at least - there is a saying that states that 'variety is the spice of life'. That is to say that if you want to spice up your life, you should try out new things and activities.

I'd argue that serendipity also adds a bit of spice to one's life. "What is serendipity?" I hear you cry. The dictionary definition of serendipity is "the occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way". For example, your bicycle is stolen and you're not sure how you can afford to buy a new one. By chance, you meet your next-door neighbour who is having a bit of a clear out and doesn't know what to do with an old bicycle. When the neighbour hears of your misfortune, you are given the old bike free of charge. 

Ever since we had to study a work by Swiss novelist and playwright Friedrich Dürrenmatt at school for German A level, I've very much been a fan of 'chance' or 'coincidence' (a major theme in Dürrenmatt's work), and serendipity is basically based on happy coincidences. 

As you may know, I loathe the new German public library in town. So much so that I am considering not renewing my membership of it. Instead, I thought I might give the 'Bücherschränke' a chance to provide me with books. 

Yesterday, after running a few errands in town, I passed by the glass cabinet closest to my flat and thought I'd take a peek inside. Imagine to my delight finding books by two authors I like to read: a 2021 book by Donna Leon (an Inspector Brunetti book naturally) and a 2002 book from Ingrid Noll (who basically always writes about women killing men and - this is the best bit - getting away with it). And both books were in great condition. As new practically!

As yesterday was a public holiday in this part of Germany, I took great pleasure in spending the afternoon and evening on the sofa, reading both books one after the other. 

Serendipity really can give one great pleasure.

The price of freedom is EUR 9 a month

The lovely German government has come up with a scheme to encourage people to leave the car at home and use public transport more: a ticket that costs EUR 9 a month and allows you to travel across Germany on regional transport. Just so long as you don't use InterCity trains or InterCity Express trains, then you can travel on buses, trams, underground trains and normal trains for as long as you like and as far as you like in the months of June, July and August - for EUR 9 a month.

Yesterday, therefore, I decided to go to the Middle Age market and "Ritterspiele" (jousts) at Schloss Burg, a rebuilt castle originally constructed in the 13th century. Just going there and back would have cost me just over EUR 12. 

A EUR 10 ticket got me into the castle and then, as the courtyard looked like a building site as maintenance work on the castle's structure was being done, I had to trudge a while through woodland and up a hill to get to the site of where all the mediaeval market stuff was. 

Unfortunately, not long after my arrival at the castle, the heavens opened and kept raining until I was on my way home. When I got to the field, it was a muddy area of the red grit you get on tennis courts. Lots of little puddles everywhere. Everything damp and dismal and very disappointing. I did get a carnelian pendant and a lump of amethyst crystals, so the journey was not all in vain.

Anyway, I made my way down the steep hillside and got the bus back to Wuppertal-Vohwinkel station and then got onto the S28 train towards D'dorf. 

The S28 runs between Wuppertal and Kaarster See, right on the other side of Neuss, to the west of the Rhine. I've always wanted to go that far and now, thanks to this new ticket, I had the chance. As did the woman who sat next to me on the train. It turns out that she was travelling here and there, making the most of the new cheap monthly ticket, so we travelled to the end of the line and then took the same train back two minutes later. 

I think we won't be the only two people in Germany just taking rides at random, especially not when you consider that by the end of May, a day before the first month's cheap ticket was valid, 7 million Germans had already bought it. Including me.

Punctuation is...fun?!

Last Friday, I did an entire lesson on punctuation. The focus was on the use of the comma, semi-colon and colon. I always get nervous at the thought of having to teach this subject as it can be as dry as dust. To my amazement, however, there was laughter in the classroom since some of the examples in the handouts and some that I came up with on the spur of the moment were actually amusing.

At the end of the lesson, I said, "I hope a few lights have gone in your head now." And to my surprise, one student agreed wholeheartedly. And the two 16-year-olds in the group laughed and said it had been fun and that it would be useful for their creative writing. 

I can honestly say that no-one has ever called punctuation fun. Well, not since Victor Borge's sketch on phonetic punctuation, which is here:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qf_TDuhk3No

To explain the colon, I used the sound 'da da dahhhhh' to show that that piece of punctuation could be used to dramatic effect. I like to believe that now, whenever anyone in that class comes across a colon in a text, they will hear the sound 'da da dahhhh'. 

A nightmare comes true

In anticipation of my summer holiday, I checked the news for Cala Mondrago on Mallorca and found articles in three languages on the same incidence that happened three weeks ago:

In English - complete with a video:

https://www.majorcadailybulletin.com/news/local/2022/05/07/100877/mallorca-shark-scare.html

In German - with the same video:

https://www.mallorcamagazin.com/nachrichten/lokales/2022/05/07/101875/hai-alarm-der-playa-cala-mondrago-auf-mallorca-1.html

And in Spanish - ditto:

https://www.ultimahora.es/noticias/part-forana/2022/05/07/1730771/alarma-por-presencia-tiburon-playa-cala-mondrago-santanyi.html

Yes, folks, for the first time that anyone is aware of, a shark has been spotted in precisely my favourite place to swim. 

It's 'only' a small, 1.5 m blue shark, but still...

The question is this: am I brave enough to enter the water when I get there? I thought the jellyfish were bad enough, but sharks?!

Bad manners will not be rewarded

At least, not by me.

Yesterday, Sunday, I was supposed to lead people on a walk on two consecutive stages of the Wuppertaler Rundweg - the walk that goes right around Wuppertal. 

Walk 1 was only 9 to 10 km long, so I added another stage of about 14.5 km on to it. The second walk had the option of stopping off at a nice cafe about halfway through.

As usual, we finally made it to where the walk started and got off the bus. I gave my little pep talk including this bit: "If you need to disappear behind a bush for a while, please let me know. We will then walk on a little bit and then stop and wait for you."

I also said that they should keep together all the time so that no-one gets lost. Maybe I shouldn't have told them, however, that we were only following one sign: the W in a circle (symbolising the Wuppertaler Rundweg).

The countryside from Sudberg to Wahlert was utterly delightful. So green, so many trees, fields, cute houses. Utterly idyllic. There were 15 walkers and me. Six of the walkers were completely new to me.

We had a break after an hour so we could drink something or disappear behind a bush. Then we carried on. About 20 minutes later, someone (Maria, a retired nurse from Croatia) said she had to powder her nose behind a bush and I told the rest of the group members to wait.

It took some time. Maria later said that where she had gone had another path there and lots of cyclists went by so she had had to wait. 

In the meantime, 11 of the walkers just walked off. Leaving me, Egon (who also offers walks) and two of the newcomers behind, politely waiting for Maria.

I was FURIOUS. Not only had they ignored my instruction of waiting for Maria, they seemed not to have read the walking rules on the group's website - especially the one that says "Don't walk too far ahead or too far behind; always remain within sight."

When the five of us finally got going, it took us ages to find the others again. They had stopped and were waiting for us. Why they couldn't have waited with the rest of us, God only knows.

That was when I decided that I had had enough. I told them that I was going to break off after the first short walk as they obviously didn't regard me as the walking guide. As soon as we got to the bus stop in Wahlert, I and three others got on the bus and went home, leaving 12 to carry on. Unfortunately, Egon had a walking map with him and he took over the responsibility. He really shouldn't have rewarded those bastards' bad behaviour in such a way. They did not deserve to have someone help them find the way when they had ignored me in the first place.

Well, that's at least 20 days a year that I get back as free time. I always planned to offer 12 Saturday afternoon walks and 8 all-day Sunday walks a year. On top of that, you have to add a day or two for Vorwanderungen, trials of new walks, and all the poring over maps, the marking out of the route, the checking of the route on Google maps, the reading up of the information in books and the checking of public transport connections, writing everything up to send to the coordinator who passes it on to the website owner who then uploads everything. 

If the walkers cannot respect my efforts enough to do what I tell them and stick together, thinking they can wander off by themselves and leave me behind, then fine. They can do what they want. I won't give them another chance to disrespect me.

People often say that young people of today have no manners. Well, it seems that people in their 30s to 70s don't know any better either. I've read articles in the press stating that owing to lockdowns, people have forgotten how to behave politely. After yesterday, I'm inclined to agree with that sentiment. I refuse to reward bad manners.

The font of all wisdom?

Thanks to primewire.mx, I've been able to watch series I've never managed to see before (e.g. Sherlock, Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency [the US version]) or to finish series I had already started (e.g. Lucifer).

I have to say that Lucifer and Sherlock have had some great advice - especially when it comes to family relationships and fathers in particular. I sometimes wonder if they have 'therapy advisors' to read through the scripts or whether the scriptwriters have themselves been in therapy for many years and are just repeating what their therapists have told them. 

Whatever the case may be, having good advice come at you through an entertaining and gripping story line is a very palatable way of obtaining it.

In a sense, such US crime series often put me in mind of 19th and 18th century literature. In such books, you also hear the sensible thoughts of the author, which also have useful nuggets of advice in them. Who'd have that Anthony Trollope and the scriptwriters of Lucifer had anything in common?

I don't get it

Today, I went to a major bike shop in town. It's been there for as long as I can remember. If you want something for a bike, this is the place to go. 

I entered and looked around. I spotted three shop assistants and said, "I'm looking for a plastic cover for my bicycle." Earlier today, I had brought my bicycle, which has been in the cellar since October, and put it outside in the back yard. The previous cover was full of holes and I had thrown it away.

"No, we don't have such covers any more. We have a very reduced range of goods here now."

I look at them, puzzled.

"We've been a Cube shop for two years now."

I continue to look puzzled.

"Only one brand of goods."

"So," I said, "I'll have to buy online." And I walk out of the shop. 

I don't get it. The bikes in the shop window are extremely expensive and yet they don't offer protection from the weather for them? Surely, a cover for one's bike would be a great way to advertise the brand. But, no. 

This morning, as I said, I put my bike in the yard and determined to pick up a cover. I reckoned I had a few days at least as the weather has been so dry recently. Imagine my surprise at the current downpour. 

Reader, my bike is now back in the cellar after less than 12 hours of freedom. I can't stand to see it in the rain, at risk of rust. It may only be a second-hand bike that I've had for about 10 years, but I still like to keep it looking good. And I must be succeeding, because when I put one of my ground-floor neighbours saw me with it this morning, she said, "Oh, a new bike!"