Monday, July 31, 2000
Elton John in Hyde Park
On the 27th of July, we went to see Elton John playing in Hyde Park. I went thinking it was going to be dreadful (some old has-been croaking out rubbish) and Mike thought it would be OK. However, Elton sang all his golden oldies, and I really enjoyed hearing them. And Mike thought it was a boring old has-been going through the motions. So there you go. Talk to me if you want to hear a reasonable review, talk to our friend Grant if you want to hear that it was the best concert in the world, and talk to Mike if you want to hear that Elton should retire before he damages people's ears. Hyde Park was an outside venue, and we had the best evening for it.
Saturday, July 29, 2000
Buying our Lindsay Crooks painting
On 29th July, Shona and Sharon's birthday, I had planned to chat with Shona on Yahoo Chat. Unfortunately, although I now know she was logged on when I got there, it wasn't for another half an hour that I found her. I said one sentence (along the lines of 'Have you been logged on long?') and she replied (roughly 'What do you mean?') and disappeared. I later found out she had an appointment elsewhere. But I was cross I hadn't figured out how to find her sooner. Still, we will find a better way to chat and catch up again. I then tried ringing them both to wish them a happy birthday, but had no luck in that department either.
So, Mike and I pottered around until early afternoon, then headed up the A40 to Balsall Common near Birmingham. I had seen an article in NZ News UK that said this art gallery was displaying pictures from a Dunedin artist until the end of July. As this was our only free weekend, I snapped it up and said we had to visit the exhibition. Well, it had finished by the time we got there, but the pictures were still in the gallery (just not all on display anymore). So the owner fished them out and placed them around.
We had a good old chat with the owner. He had a friend bring back a picture from Dunedin by Lindsay Crooks and had decied to see if Lindsay Crooks would have an exhibition in his gallery. He must have agreed, as the pictures we were seeing was the result of that exchange. The exhibition was all on one theme - beach culture. And we ended up buying a pastel of Lawyers Head, and an oil of the hot salt water pool. In a years time, we have to get the oil varnished (this process probably has a technical term, but I don't know it. When the art gallery owner was saying we needed to do this, he said we could varnish it ourselves. I was pleased to see Mike cringe at the thought too. I had visions of the Mr Bean movie - where, if you've seen it, Mr Bean accidentally wipes the face off Whistler's Mother (a famous American painting) and he paints it back on with a paint-by-numbers set of something. There was no way I was going to wipe anything over any artwork.
So, we have made a note in our diaries to take the painting back at the end of July 2001 to get done professionally. And we will also get a new frame at the same time. The current frame was a freebie for the exhibition. Mike has seen a blue-ish frame he wants to get for it as the most striking thing about the picture is the brilliant blues of a Dunedin summer day (just as I remember the bright days down at the hot salt water pool when I was younger. I especially remember the blue sea in the old pool, over the wall. The kelp would move when the waves broke over the old crumbling concrete walls, the wavetops brilliant white against the deep blue pool. I remember seeing little octopuses in there once. This is where I learned how to snorkel - Moana pool didn't allow snorkelling, but the Salt Water Pool did. Much better place to learn than St Clair surf beach! Snorkelling and surf did not go well together.). The pastel of Lawyers Head is very nice, and hanging in our hallway now. It has brilliant greens in it and a different feel.
So, Mike and I pottered around until early afternoon, then headed up the A40 to Balsall Common near Birmingham. I had seen an article in NZ News UK that said this art gallery was displaying pictures from a Dunedin artist until the end of July. As this was our only free weekend, I snapped it up and said we had to visit the exhibition. Well, it had finished by the time we got there, but the pictures were still in the gallery (just not all on display anymore). So the owner fished them out and placed them around.
We had a good old chat with the owner. He had a friend bring back a picture from Dunedin by Lindsay Crooks and had decied to see if Lindsay Crooks would have an exhibition in his gallery. He must have agreed, as the pictures we were seeing was the result of that exchange. The exhibition was all on one theme - beach culture. And we ended up buying a pastel of Lawyers Head, and an oil of the hot salt water pool. In a years time, we have to get the oil varnished (this process probably has a technical term, but I don't know it. When the art gallery owner was saying we needed to do this, he said we could varnish it ourselves. I was pleased to see Mike cringe at the thought too. I had visions of the Mr Bean movie - where, if you've seen it, Mr Bean accidentally wipes the face off Whistler's Mother (a famous American painting) and he paints it back on with a paint-by-numbers set of something. There was no way I was going to wipe anything over any artwork.
So, we have made a note in our diaries to take the painting back at the end of July 2001 to get done professionally. And we will also get a new frame at the same time. The current frame was a freebie for the exhibition. Mike has seen a blue-ish frame he wants to get for it as the most striking thing about the picture is the brilliant blues of a Dunedin summer day (just as I remember the bright days down at the hot salt water pool when I was younger. I especially remember the blue sea in the old pool, over the wall. The kelp would move when the waves broke over the old crumbling concrete walls, the wavetops brilliant white against the deep blue pool. I remember seeing little octopuses in there once. This is where I learned how to snorkel - Moana pool didn't allow snorkelling, but the Salt Water Pool did. Much better place to learn than St Clair surf beach! Snorkelling and surf did not go well together.). The pastel of Lawyers Head is very nice, and hanging in our hallway now. It has brilliant greens in it and a different feel.
Sunday, July 16, 2000
Sachsenring MotoGP
Here is the tale of our German GP holiday....
Considering our early departure from the German 500cc GP at Sachsenring 2 years previously, we decided to give ourselves ample time to not only see the end of the race on Sunday (yes! we had to leave that early to catch our flight in Berlin that we missed the end of the race - and a good thing too, as we only met our flight with ten minutes to spare.), but enjoy the driving and meet up with Anja in Leipzig. So, I had my last day at BUPA on Thursday, and I left early (5pm) to catch the bus to Heathrow.
I stood waiting on one side of the street for half an hour before the bus arrived and promptly realised I was on the wrong side of the street. Fortunately I had half an hour contingency which I ended up using. I crossed the road and waited another five minutes before the bus came. I then meandered through the suburbs of outer London until I arrived at Heathrow Terminal 1. I was only about ten minutes later than Mike. And he had to carry both our packs from Hammersmith. Fortunately BA allowed him to check both packs and reserve my seat. So I had an express check-in.
We sat around in the departure lounge for a while, before boarding our pleasant 90 minute flight to Berlin. Berlin Tegel airport seems quite small so I'm not sure how much air traffic it services. But our bags were quick to arrive after our stamp in our passports, and we were heading to the Hertz counter quickly.
My brain had not switched into German as yet, so we got our car (a BMW 520i) in English. Within half an hour we were packed and edging out of the multi story carpark following the 'Ausgang' sign (German for exit). Mike's first attempt at clutch manoeuvres sent the car hurtling forward - it not having a gearbox like a 1983 VW Transporter van. But he was soon making smooth transitions (and in fact had difficulty with der Bus's clutch next time he drove it as it was nothing like a BMW's gearbox!!), and after switching the GPS navigation system into English, we were off down a motorway heading south.
The car was not quite as filled with electronic gadgets as the Mercedes 230 E class we had two years ago, but nevertheless it had:
GPS (Global Positioning System - can tell you where exactly you are, and advise on how you should get to where you want to be) TV (yes, but it would only work when you were stationary) Heated seats Sonar for reversing (it would beep slowly and increase in frequency the closer you got to an obstacle)
But horror or horrors it had no CD player. So our clutch of CDs were relegated to the boot (and that was cavernous! - it could swallow two packs in a single gulp and still have room to chew!).
We quickly drove down the autobahns of the former East German and entered Leipzig's outer suburbs around midnight. We had half an idea to find a hotel of some description for tonight, as the next few days were going to be in a tent. It seemed a good idea to have some trappings of civilisation in the form of a shower most especially. But, as it was so late, and we had no idea where any hotels were, our search ended up fruitless. So, after travelling through quite a lot of suburban Leipzig and fooling the GPS when we encountered temporarily blocked off roads that she (the GPS had a lovely calm English accent and would issue commands like 'Right Turn Ahead' and the dreaded 'Please make a U turn' which meant we were able to confuse her) knew nothing about, we decided to head out of Leipzig and find a pleasant field to kip in.
In the end we thoroughly explored all of Leipzig (not entirely voluntary) and whenever we visited it during the next few days, Mike & I were usually filled with a sense of deja vu. By the time we had found a corn field 20 minutes south of Leipzig, it was around 3am! So, we pulled into a dirt track just off the road, and fell into coma-like sleep.
We didn't wake until around 8am due to sleep deprivation; and that was in spite of daylight entering the car from around 5am! The plan for the day was to wander around Leipzig at our leisure, checking out the tourist sites/sights and then leave for Sachsenring in the late afternoon (still another 120kms away) pitch the tent and enjoy the meet.
We got into Leipzig and parked the car. We had fun and games with the ticket vending machines on the road, so we abandoned that idea (although I noticed locals having no problems with getting their tickets - I was sure I could understand the machine and it seemed straightforward, but obviously some quirk evaded my German comprehension) and parked in a Parkhaus (a multi-storey carpark). We had breakfast in a bakery where I tried my first German for the weekend and told the woman serving that Germany had the best bread in Europe. I failed to get much beyond that level unfortunately - English was still trying to creep in. She didn't speak any English, so Mike and I didn't converse much beyond that. Mike asked for a bread roll called an 'Angebot' and learned that that was the German word for 'Special'. But he liked it anyway. And they do coffee how I like it. Not too strong.
Our first stop after taking care of the hunger pangs was the Leipzig ADAC centre( this is the equivalent of the AA, or the RACV, and it's who we have our road coverage with - cheaper than British AA rates) to replace Mike's ADAC membership card. The man serving us was very keen to speak English, so I abandoned my German again.
The rest of the day we wandered around seeing how Leipzig was trying to catch up with West German cities. We aren't really in a position to comment on how well it's doing for the locals. But Mike's observation was that all the shops were western shops, with western prices, and obviously the cheap state-run department stores were long gone. As east Germany still gets paid less on average, it seems that there must be a gap between people that can afford to shop in the big stores, and others that must find it difficult to find goods within their price bracket. Apparently some people think they were better off under the old regime, with cheaper prices and strong community spirit (this from Anja's friend who has lived in Leipzig for two years).
I bought Karen's birthday present for her 30th in a shop here. It was a huge wooden pepper mill, and it was gift wrapped for us. So we carried that around in our backpack. I wish I had got one for myself. Nothing else was bought, but we found various places of interest from our Lonely Planet guidebook.
We visited the Stasi museum. The Stasi being the secret police during the East German regime. They had procedures for reading everyone's mail, and bugs for listening and all sorts of propaganda. It was a shame it was all in German, as Mike & I found it hard to get specifics. There was a huge mound of papier-mâché that was the remainder of documents shredded with the collapse of the wall. You could souvenir some if you wished.
Around 3pm we left for the rest of the journey down to the GP campsite. A glitch in following the GPS woman's instructions (there were road works she knew nothing about on the autobahn) meant we had come off the autobahn, and were wandering around roads trying to get back on. We stopped to get maps out of the boot of the campsite area (still a good 80 kms away), and figure things out, when I looked up and saw a Formula 1 hotel. Now, Mike & I have used these quite a lot in our travels, and we knew what to expect. So, we abandoned the idea of a night in a tent and booked ourselves in the Formula 1 for Friday night. A TV meant we could watch some German television, and I watched The Simpsons in German. This is when my brain finally switched to German. After a nice shower, Mike & I went to track down some dinner. There was a local restaurant called 'The Hut' as it was a small wooden building with a bar and takeaway attached. We ate in - Mike had a steak, and I had a gulash with noodles.
It was a real local hangout. Some people were playing cards in the back table, and were joined at times by others they knew. And the rest were tourists like us.
Afterwards we walked through the village we were in, and found a cute wee cat (Mike played with him and he followed us for a bit), and an awesome cemetery with cryptic German messages on the gate and some headstones. We still have no idea what they were about - fees we now suspect. The churchyard had recently been maintained and still looked like there was work in progress. We walked back to the F1 and had an enjoyable sleep.
Next morning, after another shower (to last us till Sunday evening), we were off. We ended up in a 'Stau' - the German word for a traffic jam. It was huge. It took us ages to negotiate about 10 kms (it must have been a good 1.5 hours). But, we arrived safely in Sachsenring, paid DM80 to get a campsite (outrageous price), pitched the tent away from the hustle and bustle, and wandered in to the circuit around 11am.
We found our grandstand seats - it was the same place as two years ago. We were very happy given the difficulty of getting tickets. We met a nice man called Alex who sat close by. I started talking German to him but he said we could switch to English (my German isn't that great obviously). But I was chuffed when he asked if I was Dutch or French. It seems to me that because I was trying to speak German, he assumed I was anything but English. We always get mistaken for English in Europe (and Australian in the UK, English in the States (and at Christmas, English in Australia!!)), so it was nice to be asked something else. Mind you, in saying that, we have been asked on several occasions if we were German when we tried out our French in France! And depending on our level of stupidity at the time (did we cut someone off while driving, have we complained about something etc), we might just say 'Yes'. So, it means that New Zealanders never get blamed for anything wherever they go. Cool, eh?
Around lunchtime, Mike set off to get food. He does this quite well in Germany. He came back with a gulash for me, and a meat sandwich for himself. I had two spoonfuls of gulash and found a dead fly swimming in it. All I can say is, I'm glad I saw it. I showed Mike, and he flicked it out, after showing the Germans sitting behind us. He understood their 'Fliege in dem Gulash' comment well enough. I lost my appetite for it after that, but Mike counted the fly's remaining legs, and safe in the knowledge all six were present, he ate the rest. His meat sandwich was pretty bad too. I chose my own food for the rest of the weekend, so I could inspect the premises.
We watched qualifying, and then wandered around the circuit. I decided a fish sandwich place looked good - and it was! We ate it next to a display of old bikes behind a fence. We met up with this man who spoke next to no English, as he had spoken to us about 30 minutes before when we were wandering around. He was from the local Sachsenring area. He had access to a private area, and got us invited in. Mike got a book from a South African motorcycle rider from the early 70s who was present signing and selling his book. We also got a closer look at some older racing bikes from about 1964 to 1974.
This German fellow was a bit of a laugh, and my German was pushed quite a lot. He said that in a hundred years everyone will be speaking English. He also said that Russian was not a language, but it was a sore throat. I was pleased with myself for understanding that. He also said that the East Germans never had any money under the Russians, and that they all wanted what the English had (I'm wasn't 100% sure exactly what they wanted - whether it was just money or the language or what?).
After leaving there, we hopped on the Ferris wheel. It was virtually empty, but they put another older couple in with us, and I was a bit disappointed (looking forward to a romantic Ferris wheel ride with Mike - nice weather, great view, lots of cuddles). However, I started talking to them in German, and they spoke a little English. So we had a conversation mixing the two languages. They too were locals, and just coming in for the evening to see the festivities. They said they had no problem with the event being held there, which was encouraging (the other man had also said the same thing). When we got off the ride, we chatted a bit more, and they invited us to come and stay with them in two years time for the GP there (they were going to be away next year). We exchanged addresses, and we will write to them (perhaps I should practise my German a bit more).
We slowly wandered back to the tent and I was quite pleased we were snuggling down by 11pm. Mike would have preferred staying up and socialising, but I had just the right amount of time out and about. It would just start to get messy after that. Our site was actually in the carpark(others had camped here too), but that meant it was really quiet there. We could hardly hear the stereos of the main campsite, and we fell asleep very quickly.
As we were in the carpark, people began arriving early for Sunday's racing. 6:30am, and it was filling up around our tent. I got up around 7am, and slowly convinced Mike to get up. He was so cute with his tousled hair. Being in the carpark meant we had no facilities (and we still had to pay the full amount!) so I was keen for Mike to get a move on so I could avail myself of the flushing toilets at the circuit rather than the dodgey Portaloos in the main campsite.
Breakfast was the next priority, and we bought a couple of cheese pretzels and a cup of coffee. Unfortunately when a wasp came within 2 metres of me, I spilled most of my coffee all over the table we were at, and some dribbled onto someone's leathers. I wiped it off with my tissues and fled. How embarrassing. Mike wants to lock me in a room with a whole bunch of wasps to try and cure my fear of them. I'm not sure if that would work. Anyhow, I just think it's a healthy respect. They can't sting me if they're not allowed within a certain exclusion zone. It's just that my exclusion zone is bigger than most people's.
Anyhow, it was time to take our seat and watch the warm-up rounds. The weather was gorgeous and I was pleased I had put my shorts on, as the clouds had burned off. We even got a bit of sunburn during the day. Out came my Otago cap. A good day of racing was had by all. I was pleased as one of my favourite riders came second in the 500cc race. We spied the grandstand we want to try and sit in next year (tickets are available from November).
Racing finished, we wandered back to the tent, and packed up. Next stop - Leipzig to meet up with Anja. We hadn't seen her since she left London at the end of April. She has a friend called Katja living in Leipzig, so thought to kill two birds with one stone so to speak. See us and Katja in one trip. To avoid the Stau on the way back (it was due to roadworks, so we knew it would still be a problem), we hurtled off the autobahn into German countryside and had a very pleasant drive back to Leipzig. We could enter the exact address and the GPS took us to Katja's door.
We caught up with Anja, and met her friend Katja. We even got to stay in our own flat with Anja, as one of Katja's friends was away and had left the keys with Katja to hand out to people dropping in. All Katja's friends (and Katja) were studying theology and the bookshelves were filled with impressive Bibles in Hebrew and Greek. First up, we had a shower. Then we ate in a great pub/restaurant in the beer garden. The food was really nice.
Back to the borrowed flat for a long-awaited Becks taste test. Becks is a beer brewed in Bremen (Anja's home town) and she insisted it tasted different in London. Scrutiny of the bottle showed both were brewed in Bremen, so Mike didn't believe there would be a different taste. So, Mike brought 6 stubbies with him from London, and Anja brought 6 from Bremen. And in a Leipzig flat, the taste test took place. I poured two glasses of German Becks, and two of English Becks and presented them to Mike & Anja. After much smacking of lips and discussion, they were spot on with their decision. Apparently the English Becks was a good bit sweeter than its Bremen counterpart. Anja won a bottle of champagne for her discerning tastebuds.
Next morning (Monday) we all wandered around Leipzig. We had an awesome breakfast in a cafe that also doubled (or should that be dabbled?) as a laundrette. Then we took a look at various bits and pieces. One urn was cool - from the Chinese dynasty of Ming (well, one fo them anyway). It was filled with water, and had bronze handles that you rubbed with wet hands. It would set up a standing wave in the water and the water would come alive in a multitude of droplets. A local took great pleasure in demonstrating it for us after finding us looking perplexed.
We left for our flight back to London from Berlin. It was about 4 hours drive, and after the close call two years back, we didn't want to risk missing it. It was sad to say goodbye to Anja, but she will be in London briefly in a few weeks and then we will see her next at Theresa and Richards wedding in Dunedin in November.
At Berlin, we talked to a guy from the KR Modenas bike team. He had designed the engine on the new bike and talked about the ups and downs. He invited us to visit up near Banbury so we will take him up on that.
Arrived in London, sad to see another German GP gone, but we hope to be back next year.
Considering our early departure from the German 500cc GP at Sachsenring 2 years previously, we decided to give ourselves ample time to not only see the end of the race on Sunday (yes! we had to leave that early to catch our flight in Berlin that we missed the end of the race - and a good thing too, as we only met our flight with ten minutes to spare.), but enjoy the driving and meet up with Anja in Leipzig. So, I had my last day at BUPA on Thursday, and I left early (5pm) to catch the bus to Heathrow.
I stood waiting on one side of the street for half an hour before the bus arrived and promptly realised I was on the wrong side of the street. Fortunately I had half an hour contingency which I ended up using. I crossed the road and waited another five minutes before the bus came. I then meandered through the suburbs of outer London until I arrived at Heathrow Terminal 1. I was only about ten minutes later than Mike. And he had to carry both our packs from Hammersmith. Fortunately BA allowed him to check both packs and reserve my seat. So I had an express check-in.
We sat around in the departure lounge for a while, before boarding our pleasant 90 minute flight to Berlin. Berlin Tegel airport seems quite small so I'm not sure how much air traffic it services. But our bags were quick to arrive after our stamp in our passports, and we were heading to the Hertz counter quickly.
My brain had not switched into German as yet, so we got our car (a BMW 520i) in English. Within half an hour we were packed and edging out of the multi story carpark following the 'Ausgang' sign (German for exit). Mike's first attempt at clutch manoeuvres sent the car hurtling forward - it not having a gearbox like a 1983 VW Transporter van. But he was soon making smooth transitions (and in fact had difficulty with der Bus's clutch next time he drove it as it was nothing like a BMW's gearbox!!), and after switching the GPS navigation system into English, we were off down a motorway heading south.
The car was not quite as filled with electronic gadgets as the Mercedes 230 E class we had two years ago, but nevertheless it had:
GPS (Global Positioning System - can tell you where exactly you are, and advise on how you should get to where you want to be) TV (yes, but it would only work when you were stationary) Heated seats Sonar for reversing (it would beep slowly and increase in frequency the closer you got to an obstacle)
But horror or horrors it had no CD player. So our clutch of CDs were relegated to the boot (and that was cavernous! - it could swallow two packs in a single gulp and still have room to chew!).
We quickly drove down the autobahns of the former East German and entered Leipzig's outer suburbs around midnight. We had half an idea to find a hotel of some description for tonight, as the next few days were going to be in a tent. It seemed a good idea to have some trappings of civilisation in the form of a shower most especially. But, as it was so late, and we had no idea where any hotels were, our search ended up fruitless. So, after travelling through quite a lot of suburban Leipzig and fooling the GPS when we encountered temporarily blocked off roads that she (the GPS had a lovely calm English accent and would issue commands like 'Right Turn Ahead' and the dreaded 'Please make a U turn' which meant we were able to confuse her) knew nothing about, we decided to head out of Leipzig and find a pleasant field to kip in.
In the end we thoroughly explored all of Leipzig (not entirely voluntary) and whenever we visited it during the next few days, Mike & I were usually filled with a sense of deja vu. By the time we had found a corn field 20 minutes south of Leipzig, it was around 3am! So, we pulled into a dirt track just off the road, and fell into coma-like sleep.
We didn't wake until around 8am due to sleep deprivation; and that was in spite of daylight entering the car from around 5am! The plan for the day was to wander around Leipzig at our leisure, checking out the tourist sites/sights and then leave for Sachsenring in the late afternoon (still another 120kms away) pitch the tent and enjoy the meet.
We got into Leipzig and parked the car. We had fun and games with the ticket vending machines on the road, so we abandoned that idea (although I noticed locals having no problems with getting their tickets - I was sure I could understand the machine and it seemed straightforward, but obviously some quirk evaded my German comprehension) and parked in a Parkhaus (a multi-storey carpark). We had breakfast in a bakery where I tried my first German for the weekend and told the woman serving that Germany had the best bread in Europe. I failed to get much beyond that level unfortunately - English was still trying to creep in. She didn't speak any English, so Mike and I didn't converse much beyond that. Mike asked for a bread roll called an 'Angebot' and learned that that was the German word for 'Special'. But he liked it anyway. And they do coffee how I like it. Not too strong.
Our first stop after taking care of the hunger pangs was the Leipzig ADAC centre( this is the equivalent of the AA, or the RACV, and it's who we have our road coverage with - cheaper than British AA rates) to replace Mike's ADAC membership card. The man serving us was very keen to speak English, so I abandoned my German again.
The rest of the day we wandered around seeing how Leipzig was trying to catch up with West German cities. We aren't really in a position to comment on how well it's doing for the locals. But Mike's observation was that all the shops were western shops, with western prices, and obviously the cheap state-run department stores were long gone. As east Germany still gets paid less on average, it seems that there must be a gap between people that can afford to shop in the big stores, and others that must find it difficult to find goods within their price bracket. Apparently some people think they were better off under the old regime, with cheaper prices and strong community spirit (this from Anja's friend who has lived in Leipzig for two years).
I bought Karen's birthday present for her 30th in a shop here. It was a huge wooden pepper mill, and it was gift wrapped for us. So we carried that around in our backpack. I wish I had got one for myself. Nothing else was bought, but we found various places of interest from our Lonely Planet guidebook.
We visited the Stasi museum. The Stasi being the secret police during the East German regime. They had procedures for reading everyone's mail, and bugs for listening and all sorts of propaganda. It was a shame it was all in German, as Mike & I found it hard to get specifics. There was a huge mound of papier-mâché that was the remainder of documents shredded with the collapse of the wall. You could souvenir some if you wished.
Around 3pm we left for the rest of the journey down to the GP campsite. A glitch in following the GPS woman's instructions (there were road works she knew nothing about on the autobahn) meant we had come off the autobahn, and were wandering around roads trying to get back on. We stopped to get maps out of the boot of the campsite area (still a good 80 kms away), and figure things out, when I looked up and saw a Formula 1 hotel. Now, Mike & I have used these quite a lot in our travels, and we knew what to expect. So, we abandoned the idea of a night in a tent and booked ourselves in the Formula 1 for Friday night. A TV meant we could watch some German television, and I watched The Simpsons in German. This is when my brain finally switched to German. After a nice shower, Mike & I went to track down some dinner. There was a local restaurant called 'The Hut' as it was a small wooden building with a bar and takeaway attached. We ate in - Mike had a steak, and I had a gulash with noodles.
It was a real local hangout. Some people were playing cards in the back table, and were joined at times by others they knew. And the rest were tourists like us.
Afterwards we walked through the village we were in, and found a cute wee cat (Mike played with him and he followed us for a bit), and an awesome cemetery with cryptic German messages on the gate and some headstones. We still have no idea what they were about - fees we now suspect. The churchyard had recently been maintained and still looked like there was work in progress. We walked back to the F1 and had an enjoyable sleep.
 |
| Mike pitching the tent at Sachsenring |
We found our grandstand seats - it was the same place as two years ago. We were very happy given the difficulty of getting tickets. We met a nice man called Alex who sat close by. I started talking German to him but he said we could switch to English (my German isn't that great obviously). But I was chuffed when he asked if I was Dutch or French. It seems to me that because I was trying to speak German, he assumed I was anything but English. We always get mistaken for English in Europe (and Australian in the UK, English in the States (and at Christmas, English in Australia!!)), so it was nice to be asked something else. Mind you, in saying that, we have been asked on several occasions if we were German when we tried out our French in France! And depending on our level of stupidity at the time (did we cut someone off while driving, have we complained about something etc), we might just say 'Yes'. So, it means that New Zealanders never get blamed for anything wherever they go. Cool, eh?
Around lunchtime, Mike set off to get food. He does this quite well in Germany. He came back with a gulash for me, and a meat sandwich for himself. I had two spoonfuls of gulash and found a dead fly swimming in it. All I can say is, I'm glad I saw it. I showed Mike, and he flicked it out, after showing the Germans sitting behind us. He understood their 'Fliege in dem Gulash' comment well enough. I lost my appetite for it after that, but Mike counted the fly's remaining legs, and safe in the knowledge all six were present, he ate the rest. His meat sandwich was pretty bad too. I chose my own food for the rest of the weekend, so I could inspect the premises.
We watched qualifying, and then wandered around the circuit. I decided a fish sandwich place looked good - and it was! We ate it next to a display of old bikes behind a fence. We met up with this man who spoke next to no English, as he had spoken to us about 30 minutes before when we were wandering around. He was from the local Sachsenring area. He had access to a private area, and got us invited in. Mike got a book from a South African motorcycle rider from the early 70s who was present signing and selling his book. We also got a closer look at some older racing bikes from about 1964 to 1974.
This German fellow was a bit of a laugh, and my German was pushed quite a lot. He said that in a hundred years everyone will be speaking English. He also said that Russian was not a language, but it was a sore throat. I was pleased with myself for understanding that. He also said that the East Germans never had any money under the Russians, and that they all wanted what the English had (I'm wasn't 100% sure exactly what they wanted - whether it was just money or the language or what?).
After leaving there, we hopped on the Ferris wheel. It was virtually empty, but they put another older couple in with us, and I was a bit disappointed (looking forward to a romantic Ferris wheel ride with Mike - nice weather, great view, lots of cuddles). However, I started talking to them in German, and they spoke a little English. So we had a conversation mixing the two languages. They too were locals, and just coming in for the evening to see the festivities. They said they had no problem with the event being held there, which was encouraging (the other man had also said the same thing). When we got off the ride, we chatted a bit more, and they invited us to come and stay with them in two years time for the GP there (they were going to be away next year). We exchanged addresses, and we will write to them (perhaps I should practise my German a bit more).
We slowly wandered back to the tent and I was quite pleased we were snuggling down by 11pm. Mike would have preferred staying up and socialising, but I had just the right amount of time out and about. It would just start to get messy after that. Our site was actually in the carpark(others had camped here too), but that meant it was really quiet there. We could hardly hear the stereos of the main campsite, and we fell asleep very quickly.
As we were in the carpark, people began arriving early for Sunday's racing. 6:30am, and it was filling up around our tent. I got up around 7am, and slowly convinced Mike to get up. He was so cute with his tousled hair. Being in the carpark meant we had no facilities (and we still had to pay the full amount!) so I was keen for Mike to get a move on so I could avail myself of the flushing toilets at the circuit rather than the dodgey Portaloos in the main campsite.
Breakfast was the next priority, and we bought a couple of cheese pretzels and a cup of coffee. Unfortunately when a wasp came within 2 metres of me, I spilled most of my coffee all over the table we were at, and some dribbled onto someone's leathers. I wiped it off with my tissues and fled. How embarrassing. Mike wants to lock me in a room with a whole bunch of wasps to try and cure my fear of them. I'm not sure if that would work. Anyhow, I just think it's a healthy respect. They can't sting me if they're not allowed within a certain exclusion zone. It's just that my exclusion zone is bigger than most people's.
Anyhow, it was time to take our seat and watch the warm-up rounds. The weather was gorgeous and I was pleased I had put my shorts on, as the clouds had burned off. We even got a bit of sunburn during the day. Out came my Otago cap. A good day of racing was had by all. I was pleased as one of my favourite riders came second in the 500cc race. We spied the grandstand we want to try and sit in next year (tickets are available from November).
Racing finished, we wandered back to the tent, and packed up. Next stop - Leipzig to meet up with Anja. We hadn't seen her since she left London at the end of April. She has a friend called Katja living in Leipzig, so thought to kill two birds with one stone so to speak. See us and Katja in one trip. To avoid the Stau on the way back (it was due to roadworks, so we knew it would still be a problem), we hurtled off the autobahn into German countryside and had a very pleasant drive back to Leipzig. We could enter the exact address and the GPS took us to Katja's door.
We caught up with Anja, and met her friend Katja. We even got to stay in our own flat with Anja, as one of Katja's friends was away and had left the keys with Katja to hand out to people dropping in. All Katja's friends (and Katja) were studying theology and the bookshelves were filled with impressive Bibles in Hebrew and Greek. First up, we had a shower. Then we ate in a great pub/restaurant in the beer garden. The food was really nice.
 |
| The taste test |
Next morning (Monday) we all wandered around Leipzig. We had an awesome breakfast in a cafe that also doubled (or should that be dabbled?) as a laundrette. Then we took a look at various bits and pieces. One urn was cool - from the Chinese dynasty of Ming (well, one fo them anyway). It was filled with water, and had bronze handles that you rubbed with wet hands. It would set up a standing wave in the water and the water would come alive in a multitude of droplets. A local took great pleasure in demonstrating it for us after finding us looking perplexed.
We left for our flight back to London from Berlin. It was about 4 hours drive, and after the close call two years back, we didn't want to risk missing it. It was sad to say goodbye to Anja, but she will be in London briefly in a few weeks and then we will see her next at Theresa and Richards wedding in Dunedin in November.
At Berlin, we talked to a guy from the KR Modenas bike team. He had designed the engine on the new bike and talked about the ups and downs. He invited us to visit up near Banbury so we will take him up on that.
Arrived in London, sad to see another German GP gone, but we hope to be back next year.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)