A LESSON FROM THE TRACK

“I can imagine lots of couples do something like that for their 25^thwedding anniversary, why would you go to an exotic Island to relax when you can walk a 430km trail!” The response, sweating sarcasm, from my old sports teacher, at a chance meeting on a 25km training hike. Romantic, sand soaked, sun bathed, blue water- bliss 25-year wedding anniversary celebration options never appeared on our ‘trip advisor’ as we considered the challenge of a long- distance hike. Sifting through alternatives to the heavily trodden El Camino de Santiago and other common trails along the St James Way, something ‘local’ to our roots, jammed with history, culture and nature, not people; an adventurous track less travelled- the Fränkischer Gebirgsweg amounted to our idyllic island.

There was no ‘spiritual wasteland’ or ‘ditch the doldrum’ impetus for the walk, and there will be no ‘come to Jesus’, soul searching, cosmic enlightenment Camino chronicle. “Von nichts, kommt nichts.” From nothing, comes nothing. Perfect German poetical pragmatism from a fellow Nürnberg café patron upon denying herself cream with her apple cake. A truth of the trail, a bona fide bottom line resonating perfectly with our rationale, endorsing our endeavour.

After the initial blisters, boot calibrating, pack aligning and expelling of the excess -(paperback books and unwanted layers), the steady rhythm of ‘walk, eat, read, rest, repeat’, seeped down into the daily. 27 days, 480km. Unlike our Gore-tex gear, we were not impervious to the effects of the trail. Surreptitiously it taught us:

• There is never bad weather, only the wrong clothing and attitude. Regardless of what others might say.
• Planning is totally underrated unless you enjoy an unbearable secondary hike tramping unlimited kilometres around the village looking for food and a bed at the end of each day.
• Detours are VERBOTEN. Stick to the track for full satisfaction.
• Pillows are pathetic in Germany…bring your own option.
• Ignore guidebooks that say, “Use toiletries at accommodation.” Most often there were none.
• Check your rain jacket before you leave your country of origin. A heavy storm along an isolated track does not make for ideal testing conditions.
• Don’t take a laptop. Apparently, there are lighter options.
• Be on the same page as your walking partner about carrying paperback books. You will find them in a post satchel very quickly otherwise.
• To avoid weekends spent hunting and gathering in forests, plan accommodation with food options and a supermarket that is open at least on Saturday mornings. Worst case scenario, sleep near a fuel station that is open on Sundays, you’d be surprised what trail nourishment can be found.
• Carry staples such as Ryvita, avocado, Nutella and cheese, to avoid German austerity measures, whereby restaurants don’t open until 5pm and villages with a dwindling trading shadow provide no food options.
• For the non-vegetarian, a steady Leberkäse (literally translated ‘Liver cheese’), village crawl is recommended. This compulsory butcher stop will assist in lean food times. NB: for fellow vegetarians, see previous point.
• Germans have a penchant for order. Penalties apply where not adhered to – even at breakfast buffets. Don’t go stealing food for morning tea or lunch.
• Hipster coffee aficionados will need to downgrade their expectations and prepare for caffeine ‘entzug’.
• Beware of local tourism spruikers. Every village has a ‘claim to fame’. Whilst some towns are definitely not what they are made out to be, no matter how many breweries the local area boasts, others surprise pleasingly.
• Your travel partner must get the ‘minimalism thing’. Limited clothing offers the bonus of maximum stink. With no laundromats along the track, wash basins provide the best domestic options. Carry merino gear for quick dry times and always offer to walk up front.
• You will walk through many towns from the Middle Ages. Payment systems don’t seem to have caught up and hardcore currency is still the favourite – “Don’t leave home without it”.
• Talk to the locals. They know everything about what you are seeing and more. They are the context, additional content, glue and glitter to the trail. (They particularly love selfies with you and follow up WhatsApp messages).
• Suffering from pack resentment? A rest day will clear it up.
• About rest days….. keep the km’s down. A rest day is not walking 25km without a pack!
• German national park highlights are really well signed, albeit deliver false expectations about the animal life on offer. Be satisfied with seeing a few deer, listening to bird song in the mixed forests and heed the warning of wild pig diggings along the track that dictates your escape from the forest before dusk.
• Audible is your friend, in the talking downtime. Unless you are walking with an extrovert, expecting to talk 24/7 might be unrealistic, and if you are the excuse of some exciting books, might just save you.
• The ‘Keep It Simple Stupid’ principle applies. There’s so much to enjoy and process, don’t jam it full or overestimate your capacity. Less is more on some days.
• Missing kids. It’s inevitable, especially if you are a well- travelled family and they’ve always been in tow. Share often, speak to them when you can, cry when needed, and start shaping your future as empty nesters where applicable.
• Expectations: Have very few and be overwhelmed with the magnificence of the experience.
• Self -Doubt: It’s normal. Have a husband/partner with a plan B and a whole heap of understanding. It’s better than medicine.
• Separation anxiety: Putting down the pack after 480kms is forced detachment from the tangible. The trail ends but your experience with it doesn’t have to. Ease back in slowly and prepare yourself for wardrobe overload!
• Gratitude: Give thanks for scarfs, Elastoplast, good shoes, a comfy pack on most days, hydration bladders, a healthy body, friendly strangers, unexpected discoveries, amazing surroundings, hidden history, awesome opportunity and a majestic Creator.
• In the spirit of ‘walk, eat, read, rest, repeat’ start planning the next one.

 

PATHWAYS AND DOORWAYS

Absorbed into the trail, my footsteps join the collage of those who have walked before me, documenting my transient participation in deep time. My personage is enshrouded by a mystery of greatness. My thoughts centre around a vista of heroes, whose legend clings to trees, drips down rock faces, clacks on cobblestones, flows richly in rivers, and breaths in the valley-draping mist.

Their stories shape direction, blaze trails and create pathways for precedent. Horizons scaped with valour, inspiration, discovery, innovation, perspicacity. They were the vanguards of the unconventional and sentries of the atypical. Excavators of enchantment, artisans of the authentic and primary producers of new paradigms.

Undaunted by the undiscovered, untested or unaccepted. Unfeigned obsession with, submission to, immersion in, the possibility, plausibility, probability. A steady parlance with cynics, supporters, sweethearts and slanderers. The giant shadows of Goethe, Wagner, Jean-Paul Richter, von Humboldt and Weller infuse the spirit of bravery, creativity, discovery, ingenuity and ambition infectiously in every step.

A step in a quest of discovery, of writing, questioning and philosophising. “We all walk in mysteries. We are surrounded by an atmosphere about which we still know nothing at all.”Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749 –1832). Truth ricocheting off Jurassic cave walls and scaling ancient colossal stones.

A romantic path of poetry; bold and fantastic. “Like a morning dream, life becomes brighter the longer we live and the reason for everything appears clearer. What has puzzled us before seems less mysterious, and the crooked paths look straighter.” Jean -Paul (1763 –1825). Revelations in Fichtel Mountain thickets. Enigmatic words and poetic devices decorate spruce trees and blossom in the flowers of the Siebenstern.

A trail blazed with innovation and invention, of forges, hammers, iron and mines. Scattered through the ‘Wellertal’, carved by the captain of industry, chiselled through the heights of honour and nobility, slashed through dishonesty and disgrace. Progress and greed flowing cold in the Eger river, escorting the legend of Johann Christoph Weller (1647-1721), into mills and dams, on towards the heights of hydropower and homes. A stream of unceasing enterprise and energy.

A promenade of eccentricity and egotism. Compositions of exile and escape. Delusional boardwalks paved with grandeur. The Festspielhaus of Richard Wagner’s (1813-1859) fame and broken fortune. The loyalty and love of Wagnerians. Performances of passion, patriotism, scandal and controversy. A dramatic synthesis of poetry, unparagoned operas, the aftermath of Adolf, and manuscripts of anti-Semitic sentiments paper the walls of Wahnfried.

A passage of exploration through the world of polymaths, geography, naturalism and geology, uncovers the covered, names the unnamed, traverses the untraversed and challenges the unchallenged. The personal conviction, penchant for collecting and unceasing intellectual contribution of Alexander von Humboldt (1769-1859) to the popularization of science, silently sit in the goldfields of Goldkronach, draw us to the magnetic rocks of Haidberg, and after 250 years, continues to unearth deep seated notions of discovery and wonder.

Embedded in my footprints, imbued in every step, settles a participation in the past, encounters with enterprise, a brush with the bold and brave, an adventure with awakening, a connection with conviction, acquaintance with the authentic and an abiding humility, awe and appreciation of my privilege in this partnership. Truly in this forest, “Between every two pines is a doorway to a new world.”  John Muir

 

A Bodacious Bayreuth Babe

“It’s not fair. It’s not fair!” complained Princess Friederike Sophie Wilhelmine of Prussia to her parents. “I want to be Queen of England. It’s not fair! I won’t go to Bayreuth!” “Well, your mother’s to blame for that one” replied Willie’s father Frederick William 1 of Prussia. “It’s Bayreuth for you after all her tricks with the royal family, so forget England and the House of Hanover!”

For a larger than life comeback, a phoenix rising, dreams – dashed and history made saga, the bodacious babe who hit Bayreuth by storm, turned her misery into might, her fetish into fame and her hobbies into history. As a true leader of #Me Too, this ‘Power Frau’ erected and performed on her own podiums, spruiked her own talents and testimony, created a predominantly Baroque Bayreuth, shaping its current day style and rocketing her into the hitlist of top chicks of the 18^thcentury.

With hopes of the crown dashed, hitched for political persuasion in 1731 to Frederick, (I protect the boarders), Margrave of Brandenburg-Bayreuth to ‘stop the Austrian drift’, young Willie sucked up her sorrow, dried her eyes and resigned to her fate in the backwaters of Bayreuth.  Perhaps as reward for her ‘exile’, an attempt to make good, guilt-ridden generosity, or just down right brotherly love and favouritism, Willie’s brother Frederick the Great softened the blow by throwing open the coffers, sending stacks of coin to placate sister and fund princess lifestyle, enabling Willie to embark on an audacious offensive to transform the Bayreuth hood.

As big sister suffering ‘ditched queen complex’, Willie lived large by the motto, “If you can’t go to Hollywood, build Hollywood and let them come.” A self- made and endorsed composer, musician, theatre star, singer, project manager and interior designer, Willie was locked and loaded. With the additional bolstering of husband Freddie’s new- found inheritance, and love for their sweetness Elisabeth Friederike Sophie, she set to work creating the stage for the shin dig of the century – Liz’s wedding. The now internationally and UNESCO listed, epic Bayreuth Margravial Opera House, bubbling with Baroque was sculpted by the finest Italian architects and set designers of the day. A clear shout out to the international courts that Bayreuth counts!

With a heightened taste for centre stage and confidence in the limelight, this mover and shaker in the Age of Enlightenment, continued her eye opening, cultural construction crusade. Not to be outdone in the arena of gift giving, hubby Freddie bestowed upon his Bayreuth babe palaces, theatres, gardens, music rooms and more. In the breadth of her emphatic inspiration and imagination, Willie garnished these spaces with outdoor ruin theatres, grottos, and new palaces for good measure. Perhaps out of idolatry, thankfulness or sheer matrimonial competition, one of Willie’s masterstrokes, created specifically for Freddie, included the opulent Bayreuth Hermitage Temple of the Sun. Set in palatial gardens, appealing to the highest of the Greek gods Apollo, and depicting her husband’s epic granduer, Apollo sweeps the sky on his daily sojourn in a chariot across the world, filling it with light. So too Willie continued her creative spree, waving her magic over Bayreuth whilst driving a dangerously diminishing bank balance.

Blazing a spectacular path across the town and along its boarders, Willie left no stone unturned and no opportunity untouched. In harmony with her repertoire of creations, ensemble of ingenious pieces, architectural arias and the renaming of rock gardens beneath the Zwernitz castle to the French ‘Sanspareil’, there would be absolutely no mistake that this splash of fame, this Bayreuth blitz, this bodacious babe from Bayreuth ‘C’est sans pareil!’