sun burnt

It is such a lovely day, intuition had suggested wearing the light trousers and the running shirt under the rain jacket. The rain jacket still damp from yesterday. The body still tired from yesterday. The view over the town at the first viewpoint showed the town in yellow sunlight under a flawless blue sky, the clouds of yesterdays rain still in a front on the horizon. At the second viewpoint a group of people drinking sparkling wine. Take the walk over the Moniberg, and on over the muddy path down to  Schweinebach.

Take a picture of a deformed flood grating there.

During the following climb up the hill to the nature preserve take off the jacket. Just the grey shirt in the sun.

There are more people out riding horses today than uqsual.

Take a picture of the shadow of a tree on the white wall of a farmhouse.

At the turning point, lie down on a bench made out of a wooden tree trunk split lengthways, and fall asleep in the sun.

On the way back home, walking along the reservoir and then the river watch the hundreds of swans and the cormorants. For some reason tiredness has taken an early toll of the activities today, it has become necessary to sit down more frequently.

Enjoy the evening cup of coffee upon the return to Landshut.

The face is burning with a small sunburn.

disgruntled ducks

 In the morning get up early, in time to turn off the alarm clock before it really gets started. At that stage the first cup of coffee is drunk. Start to wonder if all that coffee could be the cause of high blood pressure.

The weather outside is deadly grey, like the old standard Kodak card, seventeen percent reflectance, parts of the yard are black in the shadows. There is the steady dripping and gurgling from the gutters. All of the black jeans have been sprayed with mud, they really look filthy, as if they had not been washed for weeks, despite the last pair having only been worn once, yesterday, during that long walk beside the motorway. The walk that ended with frozen legs and wet trousers.

Fill the washing machine with the four besplattered trousers and whatever else had accrued during the past week in the translucent plastic dirty clothes trunk. Run the washing machine at thirty degreees, hotter makes no sense and might harm some of the fabrics in the mix.

Find the rain pantalons in the wardrobe under the jackets, that place that things vanish into when they cannot be classified simply. They are still packed, as they were when bought in the food store. Remove all the card and plastic and put them on over the last remaining pair of lighter black trousers. They should at least keep the legs dry. Put on the black jacket too. 

The weather is revolting, there is no other way to describe it. The paths are partly slippery mud, or inundated entirely, or have turned into small streams transporting the water out of the hills around the valley. The fabulous jacket from work starts to develop leaky patches.

The bus at the terminus near Schönbrunn is a tempting proposition, but then the sun comes out. The decision is made not to take the bus.

Ten minutes later, the downpour starts again, Even the ducks by the river are gathering in disgruntled groups under the bridges.

log

Today's path led all the way through town to the railway station and then up the flood channel to just before it joined the river. A turning along the crown of a flood dyke eventually led to the motorway. It was possible to see all the cars and trucks speed by behind the fence, all leaving plumes of rainwater whipped up from the road surface behind them. The only way to continue was to follow the lane beside the fence until there was a turnoff away from the Autobahn. The Autobahn is very noisy with it's constant freight of cars.

At the bridge carrying the Autobahn  over the river there is a metal pole with two signs on it, on showing a line at the lever of the floods in 1999 and one for the floods in during 2010. Realise that the whole landscape around about was indundated, that the path was at least two metres under water.

Follow the long riverside path all the way back to Landshut. There is a tree trunk in the river, and it is moving at the same walking speed. At one point it hits the bank of the river, then it is caught by the current again and floats out to the middle of the river.

Part ways with the tree trunk in Landshut, it passes under the bridges heading for the Maxwehr. At some stage it will be caught in the reservoir where all the birds are.

oxen and rain

 the cold is nasty, creeping into the back by way of the waist, over the belt and under the shirt somehow. Put on a black jacket left by the job, still with their logo, and warm too. A present from work. No, lifted from work. But they do not care.

It is late, it is ten in the morning, and it is time to take the walk. The son is working in the workshop, attempting to weld together a tool to help him repair his car. His car is a ruin of a vehicle, sixty years old, built in Eastern Germany as a cheap transport solution for the populace. A socialist car, quite minimalistic in  every way. Tell him to keep a fire extinguisher handy close by whilst he is welding and angle grinding, because of the combination of sparks and containers of combustible fluids in the workshop.

It is cold and clammy today, the kind of horrible cold that does not really show on a thermometer. Walk up the piano of the oxen, the only oxen being the tourists walking ahead. They are making up theories about oxen climbing these stairs. Imagine the now-pristine stairs covered in bovine leavings, as would surely happen if a herd was driven up this narrow path. The ridges in the path would prevent the animals and the people slipping.

It is easy to be out of breath today, realise that the medicine has been forgotten, the pills have not been taken. It probably does not matter.

Later it starts to rain. Take a picture of a gravel path in an orchard. There is something very nice about it, but it is hard to say what it is.

Here:

Path behind the mulberry garden

It starts to rain, the sky closes in. The jacket taken from work is waterproof, they were mindful of quality.

Shorten the walk, it is wet and miserable, and who cares?

Only nine kilometres today, that is nothing much. But the weather is so nasty, it is just not nice.

ordures

 A day of misery, everybody stays in bed. Get up, shower, make coffee.

Everybody else, the wife the son, and the cat stay in bed. Fast asleep or something. There is nothing worth waking for. Check on the news using the computer, there are no newspapers to read really. Read a technical magazine about DNA, chromosomes and cells. It is good that it is not too complicated. The old head starts to hurt.

And they are all still asleep.

After the son has awakened and taken his shower turn of the water main, remove the tap and mixing valve from the bath and replace it with the new one. Tighten the fittings carefully and then turn on the water again. It all works well. What a surprise! Searching for the tools before the work started took very much longer than the work itself. It is pleasing that the new fitting works better than the old, and does not have the slightest tendency to drip.

Remember to take the pills for the blood pressure.

Find a large bucket downstairs and take it up to the meanwhile three buckets full of kitchen biological waste. None of the family likes the chore of taking the waste down the street to put it into the waste bins provided by the town. Fill the bucket with two of the small buckets from the balcony and carry the bucket filled with filthy waste down the street. Pretend that this is a normal thing to be doing. The burgers of Landshut look faintly disgusted at the sight of all the vegetable peelings and so forth in the bucket. They don't have to look though. Open the brown municipal waste bin and dump the fetid ordure into this bin. Go back to the house for the second load, remembering to empty the small container from the kitchen as well. Take this bucket down the street too, and empty it into the container. This container is next to the museum.

Return home, clear away the bucket, replace the tools in the toolbox, and notice that the blood pressure pills have started to work. 

It will be necessary to talk to the doctor about this, next year perhaps.

Italian coffee

 After leaving the Carrossahöhe viewpoint an older man stops and a conversation ensues. It is strange, all the things that he talks about, making conversation. Mention the school of the same name, and he comes up with some untrue stories. Point out that this is surprising news, as the son goes to the named school, and he has not spoken of these things. The man retracts his account, apparently he has confused the names of the schools.

He takes another path , the one into the housing area nearby. Wish him a good day and continue the roundabout way through by the fields. Decide to try what looks as if it might be a pleasant walk along a hedgerow, but this turns into a nightmare of fallen trees and broken bHranches blocking the route. Find a path eventually, this leads into the housing estate.

Hear a "hello" call, and turn. The man is there again. Resume conversation with him, and notice that there are far too many details about himself coming across in this conversation. This is uncomfortable, it is indiscreet. He starts to talk about his experiences on Irish holidays, and his fishing experiences. He explains in some detail were he lives. He divulges things which would be madness to divulge on Facebook. He talks and talks.

Until a path under  the road becomes visible, which promises to be an escape route. Point this out to him and go that way quickly.

It is a simple wish to be alone on boxing day, a walk through the cold bare forests and then down to the river to walk back into town for a cup of coffee at the favourite Italian.

Dogs on Christmas Day

 Walk up the river in the rain, there are very few people about today, it being Christmas Day. Perhaps that is one of the bigger advantages of the institution. Walk all the way up to the motorway bridge, listen to the cars pass on the road surface of the bridge high above. There is no way that the bridge was equipped for pedestrians, this would most likely be most illegal.

It has been getting steadily darker for the past hour, and soon there will be no light at all. Follow the dim stripe of pale hardcore surfacing the path along the river. The way back seems much further than the way in the other direction,  and there is nobody else out tonight.

There are not even those people out walking their dogs.

Maybe dogs do not shit on Christmas Day.

roses

 Such a quiet Christmas Eve, town still full of furious car drivers in their cars in the morning, and deserted streets by the early afternoon.

It is so quiet, a last tour by the shops to pick up a few items and return home.

It was ten kilometres this morning, a short walk. Still, the legs are sore and, in a strange way, cold. It is as if the skin itself is cold. 

After a while, just lie down and cover the legs with a blanket.

Fall asleep.

"Happy Christmas" everybody, that is anybody who is listening.

Outside the children's clinic a rosebush was blooming, a day after the frost

.

stay

 It is strange when the skin is shivering cold and the rest of the body is not. There is something wrong, and  no,  idea what it is.

There was a sale in the night, an item forgotten about in the sales list on the Ebay platform. Then somebody wanted it, first an attempt to make a silly offer, and then a purchase at the full price. So pack a package this morning, print a label. Give the little parcel to the package service, and that is that.

Decide to stay at home today, nothing appears to be working properly, and taking a long walk today might well turn out to be a mistake. Resolve to take it easy in this colder weather.

Stay

at 

home

just like THAT

 It was a lovely day to go walking today, it was cold and the muddy paths are frozen solid and easy to walk on. 

In the park, listen to the booming of the Nandu birds. They are amusing now. There seem to be two males, and they have a dispute.

The walk is much the same as yesterday, it is just that it is colder, and there are few people about . The café has a new waiter, and he is not a friendly person. Perhaps somebody should tell him that it is not part of his job to be unfriendly to his guests. But it makes no difference to the coffee, it is as good as it always has been. Try to make sense out of some messages on the 'phone, then decide that they are probably just a scam. These are not people worth ringing back, who knows what the charges will be.

Remember to buy salt for the dishwasher before returning home.

Return home, and realise that twenty kilometres daily may be more than the body will take just like that.

clematis

The Rhea birds (Rhea americana (Linnaeus, 1758) ) have been moved into the smaller enclosure along with the goats. It is easier to take their pictures here. One of them is making a deep trumpeting noise, perhaps this is facilitated by their long necks. There is one new bird there, he is more aggressive than the others, perhaps it is a male of the species.

Rhea americana(Linnaeus, 1758)

Nandus, is what they call them here.

Walk past the children's clinic again, and onward  past the brewery and up the steps to the Moniberg. Watch the fog slowly fade away from the town as the sun reaches into the valley. The church spire is the most clearly visible part, sticking out of the fog and illuminated orange by the sun.

It is a cold morning, there is hoar frost everywhere, all the trees are white with it. It is so much more beautiful than all the Christmas finery that the people in town decorate their houses with. On the return to Landshut, just before the cup of coffee at the Italian's, try to take a picture of a clematis caught in the sunlight reflected in the river. The beauty of the real thing is not well realised, but it will give you an idea.

flight

After leaving the park go down the road towards the children's hospital. As usual, there are cars parked at the side of the road. Today, one of them has a passenger inside, just sitting there. Think nothing of this, sometimes people like to wait in cars, walk on.

A voice calls, begging to be excused. The accent is foreign. Turn, there is a small woman, she asks for a mobile 'phone so that she may call her husband whom she says is in the clinic. This is unusual, but so what. She explains that her telephone has run out of credit.

Whatever. 

She has a seventeen second conversation with somebody in a slavic language. And then, the walk continues. It is much the same walk as yesterday, except that there is a bright blue sky and it is colder.

Take a picture of birds in flight after sunset.

dazzle lights

It was a longer walk today, nearly five hours, ending in the dark walking along the river bank. A fair stretch, nearly twenty kilometres. The light on the open grasslands was beautiful, the grass almost seemed to glow. The old radio tower reached into the low clouds, just the base remained visible. 

Take the path beyond the tower, all the way down the steep slope, and arrive at the bottom before the light fails completely. 

Follow the path, cross the road, follow the footpaths now.

Just before the light goes completely cross the bridge over the small canal behind the dyke around the lake. Climb the steps up onto the dyke, and there, in the last light, are hundreds of sleeping swans on the still and smooth water of the lake.

Follow the pale sand of the path. Dressed darkly runners on the path hardly realise that there is anybody there, stand well to one side to let them pass. After a few kilometres Christmas lights appear between the trees, some simple and elegant, and others wildly complex and animated.

It takes another hour to reach the brightly Christmas-lit streets of Landshut. It is getting cold, this is not surprising as cold weather has been forecast.

Small children are running around with balloons with equipped with bright LED lights, so many lights dazzling the eye.

photos in the dark

The gallery is showing pictures on paper made for aquarelle painting, they have been printed digitally. Some are nice, all have this strange quality, as if they had been painted.

The owner talks, and talks technology, and is dumbfounded when he hears of the exhibition in the reactor building. He wants the show for his gallery. Explain why, though a nice idea, this would be difficult. And there is no chance of anyone coming up for the costs.

Afterwards, the walk by the castle and over the bluffs around the town in the growing darkness. Watching all the lights of the town come on is a novelty, it is nice to see this. Take a picture of a cyclist coming up the path.

woman pushing a bicycle up Rakoskiweg, Landshut.

It is a steep path named after a Hungarian hero. The picture would be better in black and white.

Later, down by the river, another view, another cyclist, and this one is better in colour.

But it is dark, and the camera can only do it's best. Cyclist by the Isar.

spent energy

 the little article celebrating the exhibition has been published on the internet. It may be of no importance to anybody but it is nice to have the recognition. There is even a picture of the photographer with the three directors of the institution, all holding their glasses of sparkling wine.

It is an unimportant event attended by important people.

What else is to be said about an article that nobody reads apart from the subject of the article?

Today is yet another winter-grey day, the walk up to the castle vanishes into the fog, and the view downwards from the viewpoint is limited in a like fashion. Still, it is elating, to be able to walk this humble distance without suffering. Whilst standing to consult the mobile 'phone a man on an electrified bicycle passes in the other direction, churning up the mud on the path between the fields

Remember to buy pretzels in the supermarket, and return home again. 

The energy is spent.

feels good

Today the exhibition was officially opened, all three directors present, that was all because of covid. That is : that is an immense honour for what was just a photographer working for the institution in Garching near Munich.

The three directors arrived and sparkling wine was served, four glasses altogether, and speeches were made. The photographer was surprised at the generosity, and surprised too at the praise the photos received. Praise from the three directors, no less.

They talk and they chatter, on and on. The graphic artist who designed the text for the exhibition takes the pictures, the photographer cannot for he is otherwise engaged. The show may turn into a permanent feature, in place for a long time, who knows. 

The photographer feels his head swell. This effect must be the sparkling wine.

No, it is all the praise. It came sparsely over the last twenty years, and now it pours out profusely. You know, it feels good.

centre

 No big walk today, not even a little one. The nasty tiredness left over after the covid injection number three persisted for half the day, and there is no need to overdo things. It is strange to be so tired that it is difficult to actually get out of the bed, all the muscles normally used for this purpose just do not function as they should. So no big walk.

Instead, deal with the parking permit that needs to be renewed every year. Upon arriving at the office where these things are normally distributed find a notice on the door saying that an appointment is necessary. Then the door opens, and a woman invites me in. She knows all about what the purpose of the visit is, so ask her how on earth she knows this.

It turns out to have been a case of mistaken identity, so leave the building again and make space for the person whose appointment it in actual fact was. Use the mobile telephone to make an appointment, give the details, and wait.

The door opens and a woman comes out with the documents and the change for the thirty Euro's that had been promised.

Return to the car and install the document so that it is clearly visible through the windshield. Take last years document, all faded from it's year in the bright light behind the windshield, and leave it in the nearest municipal waste bin.

Later, a package arrives from the printers. There are two books inside it, both the same, one for the youngest brother and one for the eldest. Pack the one book back up again, and add a note and a usb stick in case the pictures are needed in original size. Or maybe even to "share" with others. Then take the package and the letter to the camera company and go to the post office. Finish off the afternoon's activity with a visit to the café.

Watch the italian proprietor fuss over his baby girl. She is obviously the centre of his life at the moment

watch and thank

 The Crazy Bean is still were it used to be in Garching. The man is still as friendly as ever, he says that he can't complain and that business is in order considering the circumstances.

It is strange to be in the glazed room again, looking out into the university. Today is the day that the exhibits are being  hung, the eighty six pictures of the last twenty years in the reactor. The people hanging the are all terribly professional, and know there job. The strange thing is, the pictures are being stuck to the wall using silicon. This is unusual, but it has to do with the fire restrictions here.

It is strange to see all the familiar faces again, even though it is only six months. Nothing has changed, not even the car park in front of the reactor. This is still under construction.

People work more slowly when they work for the government.

The day is going to be slow and boring,

There is nothing to do but to watch, and then to say thank you!

mud

 The mud on the paths is stickier and more slimy than yesterday. This diminishes the pleasure of walking considerably. The paths have been kneaded by the mountain bike tyres of all those off-road cyclists enjoying nature in their way. As the paths progress further and further away from town, their condition becomes more and more desolate.

It is a grey and sorrowful day, but the necessity for the daily walk has overridden the discomfort, especially as tomorrow's activities will make a walk difficult. Tomorrow the exhibition is to be hung, nearly six months after the date originally proposed. So what, the content of the exhibition is all dated stuff, things to feed nostalgia.

Proceed down the Schwedenfeldweg, and down to the crossroads at Schönbrunn. Wait to cross the road there, and then follow the signposts to the town's vaccination centre, show the passport and all the other documentation required, and then a short wait, a short conversation with a doctor, and then the injection.

After the injection a ten minute wait is obligatory to make sure that there are no immediate adverse reactions. 

And then continue the walk for the last three kilometres along the left hand bank of the Isar, up to the city powere plant and a cup of Italian coffee. It really is not a nice day, the shoes are covered in mud from the filthy paths.

A while ago the paths were icy, now they are churned-up mud.

muddy walkers

 The walk today was shorter, a path was explored which turned out to be a muddy shortcut. The walking shoes are all muddy as a result. Walking was hard work today, it was unpleasant. There is no knowing what is wrong but the breath has gone short again, maybe it is just the colder weather. But everything is sore, it is a bit of a pain.

People are friendly, some recognition. Perhaps it is just age that makes a single white haired man harmless, so that people will greet him.

But it is all miserable, the weather grey and the ground muddy.

not available

 Today is the day that started with great intentions and now it is the day during which the flat was never left, even the bedroom was in constant occupation. It was a day of misery, one where the weather outside was dull dark and colourless. A day so uninviting, and there is no news from anybody. The wife complained about the sons untidiness, he is a teenager now rushing about town in the evening. Never mind the pandemic. At least, it does not appear to be in critical focus. 

Back to the room, and read a novel. There is nothing in this Saturday, and the energy to move out and make things better is not available.

purr

First thing today is to go to the barber's and to have the hair cut. The hair is getting thinner as the years go on, but it still looks awful when it is too long and straggles over the head like bog cotton or old man's beard. There will be that meeting end of next week with the directors, and then to have a picture in some paper.

And on the fourteenth the pictures are to be stuck to the wall. It will do to have the hair cut first, and hope that one of the suits still fits.

Todays walk starts later and is in the other direction. Go into the hilly land before landshut to the right of the Isar. The paths on the bluffs here are in very poor condition, it is hard to say whether there are really paths at all, or whether they are just tracks left by the hunters and their prey. There is a light coating of snow over everything, and as the way leads out of the valley the paths get icy and slippery. It is all very pretty with all the ultra-tidy german farmhouses everywhere.

The path ends in two disappointments. The one is the long road through a  quite depressing suburb, and the other is that the bridge over the river marked on the map is closed for public use. See that there is a smaller bridge upstream, that is something to note for the future.

Return to Landshut, stopping in a shop to buy some bread and cheese.

Return home to find the house empty but for the cat. She jumps onto the tired knees of her seated human and commences to purr.

better than nothing

 Today, another strange awakening, too early by far, and then just a collapse after breakfast, a delicious sleep after coffee and poached egg on toast. The sequence of things is going away, being replaced by odd desires and commitments. The italian place will sell one less coffee today.

Wait for the post, the big package with the photographs arrives. They are black and white prints on photographic paper, and they are quite nice. Write a greeting note, repack them and buy a postage label online. Stick it on, gather the rest of the mail, and go to the post office. Give them to the woman behind the counter and return home to pick up the forgotten camera.

It is twelve days until the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year. But it is getting dark so early now, at four in  the afternoon walking along the river it is already dim and miserable. But it is a nice little walk, the days minimum due. Nine kilometres is not so far, but it is better than nothing.

forgot the eighth

 Yesterday was strange, a day that was forgotten. It was a nice enough day, but the walk had to be cut shorter than planned.. The cold weather is not making things any easier, the day seems to have just been one worth forgetting.

The town is full of Christmas shoppers and all the various attempts to cause Christmas cheer.

At home again, spend part of the day sleeping, it is dark and night before knowing it

And this blog got forgotten, thus the paltry replacement

four hour walk

 The collector of cameras and his wife were out walking in the park by the castle, both studying the ground in order to react in time to icy patches. Chat with hhe im for a while, talk about the problems of rangefinder cameras and their inaccuracies and their sensitivity. They have to go on, they always have things to do. They are a busy couple.

The paths are muddy and slippery today. Cyclists have mired the puddles with the wheels of their vehicles, every wet patch has turned to an area of brown mud.

Take the path up the hill to the radio mast, but do take a wrong turning finally, ending up in a field between to of the properties left in the nature reserve. The weather gets darker, and the eyes start to go into an unfocused state, it is strange. There is nowhere in this park to obtain a drink of water, it would be sensible to bring a full bottle along next time.

Take the short cut down to Auloh, following the informal track leading out of the nature reserve. Pass the local school and find the entrance to the path along the reservoir. There is a canal beside the reservoir, and the footbridges crossing this canal are not easy to find. When found, walk on up the river passing flocks of wild water birds on the lakes, these comprising of geese, ducks swans and coots. Each type of bird more or less holding together. Crows watch from the shore.

Later, just inside Landshut, a red ball flies over a high wire fence, bounces once on the path, and then disappears down the river embankment. Arriving at the spot, see that there are three young girls peering out through the fence with worried expressions. Carefully climb down the embankment and collect the ball from where it has been caught in a bush. Bring it to the gate of the school compound and return it to the girls. They give their thanks, but warily keep their distance.

Much like everybody does.

At the restaurant with the coffee enjoy the coffee brought by the friendly waitress. Read the distance covered on the 'phone, and see that it was almost eighteen kilometres.

The path taken today was longer. Todays walk was four and a half hours long

thirteen kilometres

 A walk over the Moniberg, past the old house on the top of the hill. This is a small farmers house, quite ruinous after all these years. The rent was cheap, this was all right.

This was a snap decision, just to make the walk longer, so as not to spend so much time hanging around the house in the town, This needs to be tidied, but it is so much work alone. The feeling is that it is alone, anyhow. Perhaps there is such a thing as loneliness in company.

The small track leads on after the children's campsite, the trees with the frozen fruit rotten on their branches. Keep up a steady pace, there is a certain amount of pain in the legs, especially after the two steep climbs in the first part of the walk. Pause to take a picture of an empty field and the horizon, the horizon with bare trees and a church. The field has already been smoothed after ploughing, it is waiting for crops for next year.

Mountain bikers have destroyed the paths with their knobbly tyres. They have kneaded the soft ground into a brown pulp, most unpleasant to walk over. After crossing the Schweinebach, climb up again towards the nature reserve. Why that streham is called the "Pig's stream" is quite unclear. The beech and maple trees in the woods are all bare, the ground is golden brown with their leaves. Keep to the principal path today, there is really no wish to go exploring.

Eventually, the path leads downward again, and comes out at the university of Landshut.

Take the path to the river, the one behind the Landshut heating plant, and walk up the river to the café. These are the last four kilometres, and though it is late, there is still a cup of coffee available from the friendly waitress.

status quo

 The dark outside makes it hard to get up, and yet all the training of the last thirty years lets the body rise and go through the motions of getting up to go to work.

Work that is not there any more, automatic routines that are no longer there. There are many other things to do, but:

The wife is asleep, the son is asleep, the cat wants food. Feed the cat, there are no other things worth doing. Set up the coffee maker and make a cup of coffee. Look at the news on the computer, look at the clever remarks underneath the pictures.

Hear the buzzing sound in the head, a constant companion, a white noise, a hiss that will not go away. There is nothing pleasant at the moment at all, now that the domestic status quo is in power again. Now all the plans made yesterday are nothing, let them come to naught and lie down on the sofa, a place silent but for the ticking of the clock in the room.

It is possible to fall asleep again here, a non-constructive reaction to the chaotic surroundings.

too bad

Do the walk in the morning, all is sodden and icy. It is a sum total of nine kilometres  past what are now bare trees. They are all dormant, waiting for spring. The piano of the oxen is clear in it's function now. Covered in slippery slush as it is, no hoofed animal would make it safely up there other than a mountain goat. The ridges of brick every thirty centimetres would stop any bovine slippage.

It is grey cold and foggy, and the way is slippery. On the second part of the walk, up the Carossahöhe, the slushy snow shows only one other pair of human footprints. There are also those of a dog.                                                                                                                                                                                                              

The café is the high point of the day, the coffee is good.

At home, depression really sets in, and there are the beginnings of a head cold now.

This is all too bad.

start

The third day back from the holiday, and life is back as bad as it was before. It is hard to endure the dirt at home, the mess, the piles of clothing everywhere. The clothing that came back from the holiday has been washed and dried and is back in the wardrobe. The clothing of the son and the wife is on it's seemingly eternal rounds between resting in the washing machine or wet in the basket or back from the washing line in a pile in some basket waiting for it's tidying. The living room is a mass of papers and pieces of electronic devices that are being repaired.

Resolve to start with the kitchen, after having walked around town and had a cup of coffee. On the way back there is a woman begging under the arcades. She says that she is in her seventh month, and so ask her if she is there of her own will. It is known that there are organised beggar gangs in town, they are from poorer EU countries and are placed all over the town and are collected daily and brought to some place to spend the night. The money that they take in is not left to them, they only get a small percentage. Give her some money, for it is a horrible job and there is no knowing what situation she is in.

Return home and spend the rest of the day cleaning the kitchen.

This is a start, anyway.

routine

There is one thing to pack, a back for a camera. It was sold on Ebay during the Irish holiday. It was not worth much money, but why not sell it to somebody who wants it rather than throwing it away to save bother.

Take it back downstairs, print out an address label with prepaid postage and take the package to the post. The woman behind the counter whips out a ruler and checks that the package does not exceed the maximum height. Then she prints out a receipt and she says: "have a nice day" in German.

Walk around the town, it is cold and miserable weather. 

Go into the cafe, the charming Italian waitress brings a cup of coffee. We make small talk, she talks of Holland , realise that she has mistaken the pronunciation.

Then when the coffee is finished, go home.

Unpack the suitcase, put the clothes into the wash. Thirty degrees should be plenty, they are not really dirty, and the detergent works at that temperature too. 

Fill out a repair form and pack the camera that was defective in Ireland, and include the lens that it was used with. At the very least, the people in Wetzlar will clean it up. And it is the camera that is at fault, not the operator.

By the time that is done, the washing machine has finished. Put the clothes into the dryer, and the remainder of the used clothes into the machine. Start both machine and dryer, and then go out to the post office with the next package.

She whips out her ruler again, even though it is visibly the same size of package. There is nothing like a routine.

return, first of December

 Today is the first of December, today is the day to return. The alarm sounds, it is four in the morning. Jump out of bed and put on the clothing prepared the night before. Wheel the suitcase into the hallway, then take it downstairs.

Meanwhile, the brother has risen from bed and has cleared away yesterdays dead mice and is making coffee. There is a short conversation, the coffee is drunk, then it is time to go. The way to the motorway is bare of traffic, the motorway itself has speeding professionals driving their vehicles to wherever they are bound, avoiding the traffic jams that will occur later on in the day.

The airport is quiet, there are few people under way, now in the time between the winter holidays and Christmas. People with masks and small baggage, all being searched and their baggage scanned.

The aircraft is not even one-quarter full, the covid pandemic is the most likely culprit.

There is time for sleep during the short, two and a half hour flight.

ten dead mice on the last day of November

 And all the joints between the bones are sore, the muscles between the legs too. The business man had forged ahead over the mountains yesterday, and was far ahead by the time darkness had fallen and the two brothers were back beside the lower lake again. The day was over when they returned to the house and had to go home. It was a long drive over the hilly foggy bogs.

And today is the last day in Ireland. It is time to visit an old schoolfriend, she has gone into local politics and is working there now. It is strange and rather nice to meet somebody after fifty years, that is half a century.

Talk in a public house in Rathfarnham for an hour, then the meeting with the councilwoman is over.

Walk back home, balance the four kilometres distance of the outward journey.

And at home, meet the brother just back from his work. He is tired too, after setting two mousetraps in the kitchen cupboard he  goes to bed to sleep. Sleep on a chair before the fire, hear the sound of the mousetraps. Go to the cupboard, there are two mice, one in each trap. Remove the small grey bodies and leave them on an old wrapper, put new bait into the traps and replace them.

Later that evening, the brothers flat cleaned and tidied, the bags packed and before the night's sleep the traps have clicked ten times.

more fog.

The brothers Land Rover stops at the corner of Stocking Lane and Mount Venus Road. Get out and start on the walk up the hill, wearing a green visibility jacket.

It is foggy today, and the walk up the narrow road needs care, it is important to be noticed by the drivers of the cars. Pass the art centre. A few doors on a young woman in a black fitness outfit leaves one of the houses and starts to walk up the road. Pass her and walk on, trying to be a little faster.

There is no wish for company today. The woman walks all the way to the Killakee parking place, see her as pass before the background of fog hiding Dublin city.

Take a picture of a gate, with a warning that there is to be no shooting.

Before reaching Glencree, after an hours walking, there is the sound of the Land Rover car horn.

The journey to Glendalough continues that way.

children then

  in the tall room look all the way up at the rafters above the gallery. There is a dog barking and another one clicking toenails on the wooden floor.

Last night's three glasses of Southern Comfort and two glasses of beer impair the ability to get up.

Get up anyway, and talk to the owner of the flat with the high ceiling in the sitting room. He has made coffee and fed the dogs. His wife had left earlier to attend to a relative in the nursing home. Now he makes a poached egg on toast. He had learnt how to do it yesterday and he is a master today.

The dogs start to bark and the brother arrives.

More coffee is made and more stories told. Stories of older eras, both men are remembered as children.

27_11-2021 southern comfort

 In the morning, the host makes his first ever poached egg. He makes it in water with a shot of vinegar. And in that way, breakfast is perfect.

The rest of the day is spent showing editing techniques on a computer to make the electronic images of a debutantes ball just look better. Slowly, one by one and then faster and faster all the images are done.

And then it is evening, and after supper a case of beer and a bottle of Southern Comfort.

A touching recognition.

 Leave the white house at twelve and after goodbyes to the brother take the road up to the Killakee parking place on the road to Enniskerry. The walk up to Killakee  is faster than it was in any memory, it is a walk that was never before taken. It is only three kilometres, and it is fast. The Irish fondness for mobile 'phones makes itself felt, and a call comes organising a meeting  in three hours, in Enniskerry.

Enniskerry is over the hill called the featherbed, Joyce referred to it as the Featherbed Mountain.

Between Killakee and Glencree there is a cloudburst of snow, the stuff driven in nearly horizontal. tWalk on, do not turn, for that way, only the back gets wet and the front remains dry. At Enniskerry leave the Military road and go down by the german soldier's cemetary and proceed on all the way past the fancy houses to Enniskerry.

There is a strange meeting there, and see the brilliant pictures made by what had been a young student thirty years ago. Two books as a present for what had been his tutor.

A touching recognition.

wrong

 The distance from Enniskerry to Bray is not great, it is only roughly five kilometres. An easy walk of one and a quarter hours, and it is a lovely day. 

The roads are too narrow for the big cars driven in modern times, and again, there are no footpaths. Sometimes he drivers give a friendly signal to those who get out of their way, but more often they do not. Such is the way of things.

After crossing the motorway on the new bridge, walk down the road to the Peoples Park. It all looks very pleasant,

Telephone to the friend and arrange a meeting.

Meet in front of the Royal Hotel, both wear masks out of politeness. The friend complains of the cold, and he has a fear of the covid infection.

But as soon as he enters the café he takes of his mask.

This is all wrong somehow.

sidewalk luxury.

 Leave the white house in the park, take the granite stairs down to the gravel area in front of the building. See that there is a black car approaching, a modern Jaguar. It sistops fifty feet down the driveway, still on the tarred part. The driver stares out of the window with large round eyes, a dismayed expression on his face. Then the car moves on and passes by, the driver now staring ahead.

That is the second brother, the one who has the problem. He is angry, he vents his anger on the youngest brother and has joined forces with the second. This eldest brother is the unspeakable one, the one that moved out of his area of control.

This sounds unreasonable, it is unreasonable, and reasoning has never been a frequent cause for rage. Walk on down the driveway, and go out by the side gate to the grounds of the white park house. Stocking Lane is wide, but there are no footpaths. Take care to avoid the motor vehicles. This situation worsens on the mount Venus road, all corners and hedges. The long road up to Cruagh wood is dangerous too, and the road up Glencullen has no verges either. The elation sets in just before Glencullen village, so slow down, knowing well that after this short high exhaustion will set in. Down Bridge road and past the steep Devils Elbow, and then over the hill to Enniskerry. By this time it is dark and spend time moving well to the side of the road to avoid being knocked down.

Enniskerry is lit up for Christmas. It has sidewalks, and this is luxury, after sixteen kilometres walking without them.

dark and then light

The night appears to have been spent stumbling down the steep wooden stairs to the lavatory, there is something wrong, maybe a chill from having spent a large part of yesterday sitting on a damp plank in a small boat, who knows. Sleep never made itself aware until the seaside melody sounded at five. This was being awakened from a sound sleep, this was painful. Throw the clothes on as had been planned the evening before and down the stairs again, taking the bedclothes down too.

That was that, it is all done now, the holiday on the west coast of Ireland is over. There is nothing left but pictures, as the landrover rolls on through the dark. The dark is broken by the bright lights that the locals place on the gables of their houses. The drive in the dark continues, through An Spideal and on through the outskirts of Galway, and from there on to the first stop for a cup of coffee.

Later in a day, a visit to a nursery for trees, bitterly cold but all the plants beautifully asleep in the enchanted light of the enormous greenhouses.

A signal station on a deserted island 22 NOV 21

 A signal station on a deserted island

21 NOV 2021

 View over Galway Bay

Climbed the mountain today

Saw the islands, a few of the many.

Drove on to see the twelve pins and 

the boring village of Roundstone

They are made from the stones that were lying in the fields 20NOV 2021

Today, a walk around the island

There are walls everywhere

They are made from the stones that were lying in the fields

two journeys

The Dublin streetlights let the sky glow  orange. They are a carpet of pinpricks following the lines of the streets, in yellow red blue and green. They are visible over the fields and stop abruptly at the sea.

The brothers are leaving to go out west, to a small cottage under a big sky. It is near Galway, and it will  take around three hours to get there.

And when there, take a short journey on a small open boat, across the bay.

The petrol runs out and it becomes necessary to row back. The whole journey takes another three hours and ends just as it is getting dark

The cottage has a shower and a fireplace, it is possible to warm up again.

A journey in a boat

A deserted house on a tiny island belonging to a fisherman. 

The day ended with rowing due to a forgotten can of petrol for the boat's motor

All is well that ends well

Art in the food shop.

 The brother serves breakfast in his sitting room at the dining table there. The nephew and the brother, they met yesterday for the first time. The nephew was presented with a bronze bust of his father as a young boy, the father being the other brother. The sculpture was made by the nephews grandmother, the mother of the brothers.

It is his now.

There is a witness too.

In case of disagreement the two brothers will never tell the same story

Walk down the hill that used to appear so huge as a child

and all the way into town

Ballyboden, the yellow house, Rathfarnham, cross the Dodder into Terenure, and all the way on to Harolds Cross. Across the canal see that the ruined houses are still there in quantity, but now they are different buildings that are in ruins. All dressed in barbed wire and security fencing and made up bright with sprayed graffitis. All of these houses are fallen beauties by the canal

Pass the Liberties, and go through Kevin Street and Stephen's Street. Cross Grafton street later, in all its high-priced ugliness and walk down Duke lane.

There is the emporium that sells food.

And in which an exhibition is to take place.

erIt is too early, the opening is this evening. But the girl working in the shop thinks nothing of opening the doors and letting a stray photographer in.

That is nice. For the artist it is one drawback in doing a show in a food shop,

Sugarloaf

 There is a dog on the bed and the sky is lightening outside. The Sugarloaf Mountain is visible as a cutout profile against the steadily brightening sky, and there are a few lights showing in some of the houses in the distance. Like fallen stars with some kind of unnatural rectangular halo. No, not a halo, it is just the window fromes in the distance.

The other dog is walking around on the wooden floor making a steady clicking noise as the canine toenails hit the floor. It is wandering about, perhaps it is wondering as to whether or not this stranger on the couch is good for breakfast.

The man of the house gets up and prepares breakfast. The one dog starts to bark continuously in anticipation.

A cup of coffee in hand, look as the mountain as it slowly turns into more than just a cut out, it is now a mound on the horizon.

The sons of the house have their uniforms on for school.

Their mother explains what is to be done with the dogs in case of emergency. The dogs are given to chasing the farmer landlord's sheep.

And the father says that he will be back after ten, after his duty at the pedestrian crossing.

white sheets black seats

the bedsheets where all white this morning, that is the way they should be and it is pleasant. This is the big room over Dublin city in the brother's flat in the old manor. It is very nice, and he works hard to have it and to keep it.

Later on, walk through the villages Ballyboden and Rathfarnham to Terenure, to a meeting at 12:30 with an old friend. It is far too early, spend time looking at the old haunts, there is the site of the new Model Laundry as mentioned by Joyce, but it is gone now. Spend time in Rathfarnham trying to find the buildings in which the shops that used to be a joy to this older man when he was a young child. Only the church is still much as it was, the butcher and the general store has gone, as has the newsagent.

Later, in Terenure, see that the newsagent and toyshop are deserted.

Kill the remainder of the time in an exhorbitantly priced cafe writing a letter to a professor who needed some advice on scanning.

Write, remembering all the while not to be patronising, a man who can understand the world in eleven dimensions may have problems elsewhere.

The walls in the cafe are cement blocks painted black, and it took five minutes to fix up the telephone because they have no wifi.

The tables are black as well.

As are the seats.

7 minutes

 The verbally ordered alarm yesterday sounds this morning, seemingly just after sleep wins over a wakeful night. It is playing that seaside melody, the tune seems to be a default. It is dark, because it is only six in the morning. Take a wakeup shower, not one that is necessary, but it serves it's purpose. Then return to the bedroom and put on the clothes laid out in preparation last night. They are nothing special at all, jeans pullover and underwear. But there is no need to think about them, all the thinking had been done last night. In the kitchen press the coffee grinder's button twice and fill up the middle-sized coffee machine. Put it onto the gas stove, let the gas hiss as it works to heat the aluminium pressure percolator. There is a picture of a man pointing upwards as a trade mark on the coffee machine.

Bread, butter, and a few slices of salami. This is an early morning breakfast

Check all the papers, and remember to pack away the shaver and the toothbrush.

And then take the orange suitcase and the small camera bag away on their journey to Dublin. There is activity on the streets already, children hurrying to get to school.

At the bus stop the electronic notice indicates that the bus is late. This could be silly, it would mean missing the early train to the airport. When the bus arrives, realise why it is late. The driver is a pedantic fool, a man who insists on waiting until the delivery truck waiting at the bus stop has been forced to move on by his hooting of the horn and his shouting. He could have stopped two metres away and let his rights as a bus driver be. Two stunds like that, realise that the sum of these things cause the delay.

Rush through the station, down through the tunnel, and up to the tracks, just as the doors begin to close.

The mask is inflating and deflating like a bellows due to the heavy breathing after the run through the station. But all is well now, the train speeds on.

At the airport, check the email.

There are two warnings that the bus in Landshut has been delayed.

A matter of seven minutes.

cat warmth

 Now that the morning is getting on, and there is light coming in through the window. See the earlier antics as being strange, the awakening at half pas four in the morning and getting up and making coffee.

Feeling awake, feeling fine, ready to take on this last day at home for the next two weeks.

Then the bitter cold feeling in the legs and the arms, the doctor once explained that this is the blood circulation concentrating on keeping the vital organs warm, yes, this bitter cold makes going back to bed imperative, even though the feeling of diminished personal worth is strong. It just will not be possible to do all the things as intended today.

The cat makes noises, get up to feed her in the grey light from the mist-covered sky outside the window. Make another cup of coffee, then go and find the clothes on the chair beside the bed. Drink the coffee, the heavier day clothes and a pullover keep the legs and the arms warm. Wonder about the postulated infection.

There is no idea that would help the matter any further. The cat, having fed, jumps up onto the knees. She is pleasantly warm.

never know

 There is fear among the forms, the forms that need to be filled out to qualify for a journey. There is fear of  illness and fear of punishment  and a fear of loosing the holiday too.

The form asks many questions and  there are clear warnings about what happens to liars. The words "must" and"need" are there all the time, and- 

There is fear of error. Automatic systems that exclude for no reason other than a middle name being used in the passport and not on the ticket. The system for buying the ticket does not allow for middle names, the system for the certification of innoculation requires them and the system for easing the path through the airport requires both entries to be identical.

It does not work at all well.

The walk this morning will have been the last one here for the next two weeks.

Never know, but that might be the end of the story.

Here is a yellow tree.

The misery is increasing daily as the various stalls around town go up to promote Christmas cheer. It is a strange paradox, and then it is not. The reason for Christmas has gone, and the entertainment is poor at best.

But that is not it. Live has become a succession of long walks and short drinks of coffee. There is nothing else. Facebook pictures, it is all no fun.

On Monday the flight to Ireland will leave. There will be recrimination to face from the wife, and yet-Staying would be a mistake too, for then there would be no holiday and that would be silly too.

There was a yellow tree on the opposite river bank on the morning walk today.

Here is a yellow tree.

ready sliced Emmentaler

 Resolve to leave early for the morning walk. Take a shower, take the pills, make some coffee, and feel the body collapse into an inert lazy state.

Sit there for an hour, The cat jumps up onto the lap and falls asleep.
Fall asleep.
Hear the son get up to go to school.
Cannot move at all, this is awful
Then slowly, life returns.

Arise and put on the jacket, pick up the camera bag and go.

The legs and everything are a little bit slow, but it does not matter. At the top of the steps, by the castle, the fog is so thick that nothing of the town is to be seen. Do the usual circuit, and finally, a coffee in the café.

No idea what is wrong today, the trees are nearly all bare.

The people who work in the café are all really busy, even though there are few guests there. Then go to the supermarket, buy some pretzels.

And a plastic bag full of ready-sliced Emmentaler.

no plan

 A walk finishes what was a day trying to fill out online forms. The forms are meant to make things simple, but it is not that easy. The app will not recognise the standard vaccination book. So go to the apothecary and avail of their services to make a digital pass. Later on, after the walk, scan the code printed on the pass,  only to discover that the online form has included both Christian names. Since this does not comply with the permit-producing app, the certificate was refused. Using the data from the airline meant that the airline's inability to accept second names meant that the app will no longer accept the certificate.

Print out the certificate, somebody at the airport will have to look at that now.

The coffee was nice, and the wife decided not to cook an evening meal today.   

Therefore, go to bed hungry.

that will be the plan.

trailer

 Move the bicycles out of the corridor, and roll the small trailer to the door. Then go out to the paarking spot where the little Opel car is parked. The windshield is covered in a thin coating of ice. There is no dedicated scraper available, so use a piece of plastic. It is good that the ice is not thick.

Leave the car in front of the house, after having fixed the removable tow hitch to the back. Then go into the house and open the doors. Drag out the tiny trailer and hitch it to the back of the car, remembering to plug in the electrical connector.

Close the door and drive to the inspection company. The trailer needs to be safety inspected every two years.

The engineer checks that the lights are working, that the tow hitch is secure and that the tyres are in order.

Then he notes down the number embossed on the chassis. The trailer was made in the German democratic republic, it is now forty years old.

And that is that. A new sticker is applied, a form is filled, and the bill paid. Then take the car and the trailer back home and reverse the procedure. After parking the car return home and go upstairs. The wife is still asleep.

Lie down on the couch in the sitting room  and fall asleep. It is nine in the morning.

dwarfed

A short walk today, there is still pain in the bones from yesterdays walk over twenty five kilometres. This is far short of a marathon distance, but it is far enough.

It is shortened also because of the mistaken belief that the pageantry in the castle had not finished, and that it would be closed. It was actually open, but who cares.

There are no more chestnuts under the tree, it has shed it's produce for this year. Perhaps again next year. 

The walk takes it's usual path, over the heights at the Carossa viewpoint and on down to the river, passing the new shopping centre and crossing the bridge.

Follow the path by the river, onward past the footbridge. Stop to take a picture of the giant trees lining the path, all in their yellow autumn splendour. A man approaches, let him be part of the picture. The man is dwarfed by the trees.

 A long walk in the foggy air, take pictures, and walk all the way out to the nature preserve again. On the way back to home the endorphin starts to make itself felt, this is just a happy feeling. Look, there are no drugs involved. Still, would it be possible to control a vehicle safely?

The way back is along the bank of the reservoir. The water is choppy today, and there are hundreds of black water birds on the surface of the water, There are the usual swans too, of course.

Progress becomes increasingly difficult as the walk comes to an end, the legs are sore, and the new shoes are a new experience too.

Take a picture of the seed pod of a vine, one that upon researching it on Google turns out to be some variety of clematis

than those with eyesight can see

 Postpone the walk today, for there are two other things to be done. First of all, a package needs to be brought to the post, an item was sold last night. The package is large and flat, not a usual format. The man in the post office looks at it in a puzzled way, then he reads the code on the label with his code reader, and after pressing a button on his computer at least four times a receipt is produced.

Wish him a pleasant weekend, and go.

Walk all the way down through the town, and take the last turn on the right before the river. This is the shortest route to the shopping centre. The front doors of the shopping centre are locked, and the glass has been covered in white plastic sheeting on the inside. There is a notice on the door that this entrance is being repaired, please use a side entrance. Enter the big hall through the side entrance, nearly getting tangled in the revolving door in the process. It stops rotating, just like that. Give it a slight push, and it starts to move again. That is a relief, it is a bad way to start the day, being locked into a revolving door is.

Down in the basement the tailor is waiting, he hands over the suit. Go into the changing cubicle and try the grey suit on. It fits properly now. Pay the money for the work. He is a friendly man from Iran, a Kurd. He is proud of being one of the fastest tailors about, and he says that fixing the other suits should not be a problem.

In the supermarket next door buy four pretzels, for a family breakfast. There is a trainee at the till, and he is under supervision. He short changes, perhaps he is stressed being new on the job. Hold out the hand as a sign of actually wishing to have that Euro. The supervisor tells him to look carefully at the paid money in his hand, he apologises and hands over one Euro. It is an easy mistake to make. A blind man is next in line and he hears the exchange and he laughs and says that this would not have happened to him. The blind must feel a greater difference between the coins than those with eyesight can see.

do not turn back

On the exposed track between the adventure playground for the children  and the woods by the farmhouse see two people approach with a dog. It is the landlady from the previous rental accommodation, the house on the hill. She is with a young man, and a brown dog. The dog is not her style, at least not equivalent to the style she had fifteen years ago. The young man is too young to be her boyfriend, and as he has a certain similarity, he may be her son.

A friendly greeting on the long sandy path through the wide ploughed fields under the large Bavarian sky. Explain the reason for being there, it is just the walking hobby. The mother, and her son, and the loaned dog are on a short walk, a quick stroll to exercise the dog. Chat for a while, out in the bleak windy weather. Talk about the son's successful studies, and do not talk about old times.

They go on towards their home, and continue the walk.

And do not turn back.

Today is a day where the walk was for fourteen kilometres, and it all took a bit longer, for there was a wedding in the café, and the waitress had many customers to deal with.

bright green and blue lights later

 Pull the hood of the hoodie over the head to protect the head from falling chestnuts. They are the spiny eating kind. Now search the ground for the telltale bright green of a freshly fallen chestnut. There is one, step on it until the casing bursts and take the chestnut out. There is a thump, and another one has fallen nearby. Treat it the same way. Carry on searching, and find a couple more.

Then take a picture of the small garden lodge. Hope to get a picture with the air full of leaves, but unfortunately neither the wind nor the trees oblige

The path through the cornfields is now covered in fallen leaves. They bind the mud, this is agreeable, there is now no slipping on the path.

Crossing the river the town lights come on, the long path by the river now is defined by pools of light emanating from old-fashioned style lanterns. The power station is decorated with blue lights behind its frosted glass windows. It is all very pretty.

Fair

 they collected the wooden box with the enlarger in it, even though it has not been used for years it is a shame to see it go. It is off to China now. So much for that, it no longer takes up space here and it even produced some money. Go back to the telephone and deal with the insurance company and that broken pane of glass. Just a small pane of glass, and such pain. It will be necessary to take a picture of the frame to convince them that a glass needed replacing.

And after that, freedom! No, there was one more thing. The mobile phone has to be brought to a repair shop nearby to have its battery replaced. And a parcel must be brought to the post.

The post first, watch the clerk as she carefully measures the parcel. Take the reciept, and go to the bank to collect some cash, some small spending money. Then turn in the mobile 'phone, it will be ready in an hour's time. The man who is repairing it is a bald man alone in his shop. He is very neat and tidy, and so is his work. Back at home, check on a few things, and do a few things, and when the  hour is up, go back to the shop and collect the 'phone.

And then, a late start to the daily walk, all the way to the castle. At the castle they are opening some kind of a Christmas fair, with stalls and lights and things.

Christmas is coming, as it does every year, even during this pandemic.

rain

 Start out really late today, after taking the parcel to the mail, and having to deal with the online courier service, a crowd of incapable people all trying to order the world by remote control. And it did not work yesterday, the large wooden crate is still in the hallway awaiting collection.

Take the walk up along by the river today, cutting back along the bluffs above the town. Then take the steep steps known as the keyboard of the oxen up to the castle. Be surprised at the improvement in the old body, it is possible to climb the steps now without losing breath.

Take a few pictures during a rainstorm in the park, be thankful of the rain poncho in the camera bag. This saves everything from a serious soaking. But the photos are not any use. Walk along the bluffs, then cut down to the river by the brewery. Because of the rain, there are no other walkers about, this is nice, it is good to be alone.

Enjoy the rich coffee at the café. The charming waitress is there today, all ready to charm. Watch the other customers, they are the only group sitting outside. There are two excitable little girls, who keep on running off to feed the swans. When they come back the grandmother critiscises them for having become wet. They both deny this.

Chat with the waitress when she comes to bring the change. 

And then go home.

Back home again

time wastage

 Today, it is necessary to wait, for a carrier has promised to pick up a crate.

Even if today is all hallows day, and nobody is about outside. Because it is raining and it is cold. And yesterday's exertions may have been a little too much. It was a beautiful day, there is satisfaction there for having made the most of it, especially as todays weather is not a thing you could make anything of. Now that the clocks have been changed it gets dark at five in the afternoon already, and the feeling for the day is confused. It should, after all, still be light. This is what the feelings say, they also say that it is later than the time on the clock.

The carrier did not come to pick up the crate. he will be around tomorrow most likely.

This is a wast of time, but there is nothing to be done about it.

two lines

 Today's walk through the nature preserve, this used to be a training area for the military.

There is a white plume of steam in the background, that is from the cooling tower of a nuclear reactor.

no pictures

What was a field of maize three days ago has been harvested to a field of stumps and has now been ploughed to an earthen field of clods.

The work of three men and some farm machinery, such are modern days. The farmer with a horse drawn plough would be slower.

The walk has become more open as a result, instead of a path through greenery it has turned into a path a winding it's way at the edge of a field.

There is a new weekend waitress at the Italian place, she is friendly, but just not as happy in her work as the one from the weekdays.

Home - today is the day to do the washing, and to pack away all the clothes.

And there is no flow to anything today.

No pictures either.

a few stalks left

Take the old circuit starting at the castle and through the park. At the Carrosahöhe continue without a pause, the town is covered in cold grey fog. The woods are nice in the fog, the leaves all colours from green to bright red. All the yellows in between these two poles.

And after the woods there should be the maize, or the corn.  It is all gone now, a  late harvest. There is nothing but a few stalks left at the border of the field

walkabout

 Today's breakfast was taken in a luxury hotel in Passau, in the centre of the old town, in the breakfast room on the top floor, overlooking the town.

A good start to the day.

The brother had been up at four in the morning to walk his dog, which had spent the night in the car, not being admitted to the hotel.

And after breakfast the town was looked at, and then the road to Austria taken. At the border a sticker for the windshield, to allow for ten minutes drive on the motorway. Still, a days permit is cheaper than taking any risks. The rest of the morning and the early afternoon is spent looking at plants, the brother selecting those that he wants to propagate in his plant nursery, Soon there are two trays full, and after a conversation with the Austrian plant grower, return to Passau.

A small meal in the centre of town, and a walk up to the castle, and the excursion is done.

Finally return home using a train.

From Regensburg.

yesterday was a busy day.

Yesterday the brother arrived after the mornings spent with a colleague in Munich. The colleague informed me on the state of himself, and some of this was interesting to hear.

The brother arrived and during the following long walk things were discussed. It all ended with a good cup of coffee in the Italian place. The good looking waitress was not working in the evening.

Back at home, a bag packed and it was agreed to go to Passau, and then onwards to a place in Austria called Ort.

There was heavy fog, and it was dark. The turnoff for Passau was missed, and because of the delay, the last meal of the day was taken in a strange bar that was still open at midnight in the middle of this city.

And so that day slipped  on to today

handles

 Take the cup of coffee inside the Italian café today. Without movement, it is cold outside, the weather is turning wintry, now that Autumn is so present everywhere. The friendly waitress brings the coffee again today, she talks about sports and health. The coffee is good, as good as always, and she has put an extra biscuit onto the saucer. She really is very friendly.

Think about the telephone call from the brother, he seems eager to have a conversation. He will be visiting tomorrow.

After the coffee take a walk through town and go into the toilet articles shop for some masks. Comparing the prices realise that the ones in the bulk packages are the most expensive ones, the ones on display at the entrance are the cheapest. This is interesting, it was to be expected that this would be the other way round.

Town is busy, one would never believe that there is a recession and a pandemic going on. Go into the Grimm's shop to see if they have a glass cheese cover in stock. The only one they have is a strangely shaped one, not bell-shaped. Leave, promising to return and see if the bell shaped ones are back in stock.

It was a short walk today, and a short extra excursion to the hareware store to see if there are any handles available.

no objections

 Pause at the castle and talk to the gardener. He sends me on to the head gardener. Tell him about the branch hanging above the path by its twigs only, the main branch having broken of the trunk. It is more visible now that the leaves have all thinned out, and the remaining ones are all yellow and red.

Walk on to the usual viewpoint and meet the gardener there. He is making good the promise to inspect the tree. The branch looks insignificant up in the crown of the tree, but it would be deadly if it struck somebody.

Later, a man approaches out of the distance, hurrying along the path. The light is nice, so take a picture. He is walking through the carpet of dead leaves. When he comes closer, ask him if he has any objections to having been on the photograph. He says that he has none.

It is still early in the day, and he is the only passer by this Monday.

two encounters

On the second walk of the day, make a 'phone call at the castle. It is a luxury to make this calls in a variety of pleasant  surroundings, like the park, or the sculpture garden. This is no luxury for younger people, but having been cable-bound in halls up until now it represents a luxury.

Call the friend in Munich and we arrange to meet at nine forty-five on the coming Wednesday. This is the same friend who nearly killed himself on the Klausenberg some months ago. People with weak hearts should not run up hills. Look forward to meeting him again, there are no hills there were he lives in Munich.

When the call is finished and the appointment made, walk around the usual way to the big park. There are many people out walking today, families, some with children, some with dogs and some with both. The recent strong winds took down a large branch from one of the trees. Looking up, identify the tree from which the branch had come, and see that a second branch has broken off and is somehow in a state of suspension in the crown of the tree. The broken end of the branch, at the junction of the trunk and the branch, is clearly visible. Wonder if this is a danger to the users of the path below.

Finally, take a seat on a park bench overlooking the duck ponds. Using a program on the 'phone, start to improve my language. After a while a woman comes by and strikes up a conversation. It is a pleasant enough talk, she tells of her time as an au pair in England, and her times in France. Listen, and tell her a little about the times in Ireland, and England and France.

As it gets darker, it is six in the evening, the peacocks come out of their enclosures and start to pick at the gravel, perhaps looking for leftovers. Then, as it gets darker, we say goodbye, and she goes up towards the playground and that exit.

Go down through the park and enjoy the last of the evening light. The leaves are crunching underfoot, as they always do on a dry autumn evening. Leave the park by the entrance behind the sculpture museum.

The encounter by the duck pond reminds of a similar encounter earlier today, walking along the river after the mornings walk. A lady with a wheeled walking aid smiles, says hello and strikes up a conversation. She is German, she is unhappy with her old persons home. She talks of the time that she was in Ireland, in Connemara and in Galway. She remembers the early pubclosing times, and that these were a major imposition for Germans. Standing there near the bridge in the middle of town, we talk for about half an hour. She is unhappy because the people in the home do not take her seriously, she says.

Then she blames herself for expecting people to have too much time for her.

Oh well