Cleanliness, Godliness, the Art of Mindful Vacuuming, and Glucosamine

Dear Reader, you may now be wondering if the wandering will ever begin. For this I hardly blame you, in fact I wonder it myself. But many things are not what they seem or even what they sound like. The blitzkrieg was not about speed but about co-ordination. (when you think about it, no one thinks of the Germans as speedy – motorways and Michael Schumacher excepted – but certainly one thinks of them as exhaustively prepared). Today was therefore a day of exhaustive preparation. And because co-ordination is everything, the tramp deemed that he would do the messy, manly work of dealing with filling and emptying the various coloured water tanks and leave me with his normal task of vacuuming. The WLW was to be totally clean , filled with fresh water and ready to go forth into the world.

Now the tasks of vacuuming would seem a small one (especially compared with filling a 280 liter tank in increments of water purchased with a 50 cent piece) but I tell you it was not what it seemed. To begin with, the trampess had to find the vacuum cleaner by lifting the carpet in the dining room and then lifting the floor boards – where else would you keep a vacuum cleaner??? Now assembling a small, compact machine is not beyond my wits, even with the choice of attachments (yes, even in a WLW, one wants the option of carpet, floor and upholstery appropriate nozzles). What did seem strange though was why there was only one metal tube, and why it didn’t fit the carpet attachment. An engineer at heart, I sat on the floor studying the various attachments and the various tubes or hose they could attach to and came to a startling conclusion. A tube was missing, the effect of which was that only one combination of existing parts would function. The trampess would have to consider everything upholstery. Not a major problem, what really is the difference between a light carpet and a sofa or tapestry? Of course, the fact that one tube was missing meant that the vacuuming would not be done in the upright position but on my knees (I can only imagine if Mrs Doubtfire had been faced with the same problem!). With cleanliness allegedly next to Godliness one could only surmise that the proximity would improve if the vacuuming were done on my knees. Now even a WLW is small by comparison with a real home, so the thought of doing the whole WLW on my knees was not particularly daunting (elapsed time is probably less than during high mass on Sunday so well within my capability). What I was not prepared for was the strength of the suction. I was now on all fours, holding the carpet down with one hand, pulling with all my strength and attention with the other and hoping that my knees were strong enough for the fight. No one has put so much mental effort into lifting a few crumbs and stones from such a small space. This was mindful vacuuming. It also occurred to me that the glucosamine that I had run out of only a few days before, would need to be replaced if my knees were to keep the elasticity needed to resume running – a necessity in the land of kaffee and kuchen – especially with the visits been planned in the coming week. Happily in the land of Gesundheit, this was easy.

Water, water everywhere

Life is full of paradoxes and man’s task on earth is to resolve as many as possible. Of course, the sooner one is solved one, the faster another hits. Civilisation conspires to remove problems and make everyday living as smooth as possible. In doing so, it reduces one’s awareness of problems that have been solved. This is good until one breaks from that protective cover. Returning to a simpler life, one finds oneself returning to simple problems one didn’t know existed. Take for example water from a tap, or used water going down a drain, or . . . well you get the idea. The closer civilisation has come to connecting us to a perfect and continuous supply of water – and its removal - the less aware we are – both of how it all happens (magic) and how much we use (lots). Living in London, the closest I come to understanding how much I use is the quarterly bill – and all that tells me is how much I have to pay, which may or may not bear any connection to the amount I use since we have no meter. Living like a turtle, but with water and power tanks attached (including, dare I mention it, waste water tanks attached), requires both cognisance and action. Press a little button right over the door and instantly, your trampess can see how full her three water tanks (fresh, grey and brown) are. It is not random interest that drives her or the tramp to press the button since washing one’s hands, making a cup of coffee, or even using the loo, depend on having adequate water in the fresh tank. One dares not think what happens if the other tanks reach overflow!

After careful study of the levels over a relatively short time, the tramp has concluded that we are washing too many dishes. (the tramp by the way is back in his former job of dishwasher since the trampess does the cooking and there are no baby tramps around to do that chore, but I am sure this is irrelevant information and there was no need to mention it). Being systematic, he began by doing a study of breakfast. The first conclusion was that we really were eating as though we were in normal domestic circumstances: porridge, eggs, ryevita, fruit, tea, cappuccino , I mean, does one need so much, so many plates, so much washing up?? My suggestion that porridge would be good for him and was so practical on so many levels - several months supply can be stored (in the garage – the turtle’s shell does of course have a garage) - whereas eggs require weekly purchase and take up refrigerator space - met with as much enthusiasm as I expected. Not you understand, that I mind making eggs for him, and the water I boil the eggs in is then used to soak the porridge pot and then the (egg) pot is re-used to boil the milk for my cappuccino. So it is used twice and only washed once (not to mention providing the washing water for the other pot). One could scarcely imagine a more efficient use of pots and water.

The reason for such scrutiny is obvious: one has to take responsibility for refilling the fresh water tank and emptying the others. You may have noticed how many roadside stops are offered on motorways for refilling fresh and dumping waste water – not a lot, right? So one needs to think about these things. In a perfect world, all three tanks would empty and fill at such a rate that one could make one stop to deal with all three tanks. We are far from paradise in this respect and I fear (though I have not dared mention to the tramp) that we will shortly (as soon as I lift myself from my death bed) slip further down the rungs of hell. My recovery will include a return to running – and showering. If the dishes produce excessive amounts of grey water one can only imagine what a shampoos and shower will do! I fear the tramp may revert to Napoleon’s command to Josephine not to bathe as he was on his way home! Clandestine bathing and lavish spraying of Chanel 5 (strategically purchased at the airport on the last exit) will have to see me through.

I expect to be on the road again soon (we just have to make sure that the door works – while I was dying and the tramp went out he asked me to lock the door. When he returned he could not open it from the outside, but rather more worryingly, I could not open it from the inside even after unlocking it manually. No need to trouble yourselves about this, but I spent the afternoon in bed, inside the factory, while my door was changed) , God willing. Do you think she is?

Converters, Inverters, Oh Brother Where Art Thou?

The turtle leads a simple and uncomplicated life; his shell protects him and he has relatively little to do to maintain it. To him, it is just a hard, helpful, second skin. The WLW is not remotely so low maintenance, though it does aspire to provide the same protection – and more. The modern tramp wants to take his world with him: music, satellite, telephones, computers (the desire for the simple life can be too simple after all and one does not wish to be cut off from friends, culture or news). Indeed, the WLW makers know this and have photos of interiors not just with beautiful bathrooms and well equipped kitchens but with flat screen TV’s and satellite dishes that automatically retract when the engine starts up. All this requires on the part of the tramp and his companion a deep understanding of not just simple mechanics about which you have heard more than enough (and with luck will never hear of again), but also of electricity and plumbing.

Imagine then the surprise we all had, when trying to turn on the Nespresso machine, and the soothing blinking green lights did not come on. One can survive without a hairdryer (more of which later) but can one survive without the morning cappuccino or the evening espresso? As we were to discover when the reason was discovered, no power would be coming to the computers or the phones either. Luckily being a short distance from the factory (the discovery having been made in the parking lot of Edeka where we were having lunch – as one apparently does on such journeys), we were able to return to diagnose the problem. After all, not being able to enjoy a morning coffee could prove to be a travel breaker. The irony was not lost on our intrepid sales director since he had gone to great lengths to build the perfect home for the now useless machine. (we needn’t go into the number of email exchanges discussing the location of the special shelf for said machine between the tramp and the ISD; suffice it to say the are both German).

Dear reader, those of you with superior knowledge to the trampess, will know that all this modern equipment is designed to use a minimum of power – and even the Nespresso machine has only a simple demand for power. Sadly these simple demands are below the radar of the inverter which waits until it has a big “hello, give me some juice” before it sends power around the circuit. The technical men hummed and hawed and realised this problem was both systemic and critical to almost any modern tramp. Of course the first test of the system was to bring in a hair dryer - from the one of the engineers - as I have said before, I can live without one . A hair dryer is not a modest consumer and lets her needs be known immediately. The inverter immediately came to her rescue and the lights started flashing on the coffee machine (visions of George Clooney with a satisfied look on his face while drinking an espresso returned to the trampess’s head). And indeed the coffee machine, having had its need established in the brain of the inverter, continued to function without the hair dryer’s continued use. Not so the computers! To keep them charging the hair dryer had to be on!! It is intuitively obvious to the casual observer that one can hardly imagine having to use a hair dryer the entire time one wants to be on line! Even were I to aspire to locks like Dolly Parton, this would be overkill. Not to mention not green.

And so a second, low demand electrical circuit was devised. And now, even the Nespresso works without a hair drier (or pomade). It was not a matter of hours, but future WLW owners will suffer less because of our experience. And so once again,

And so we learn . . .

Vocabulary extends with needs, just as the Inuits have many words for snow, so have we developed many words for stress. I feel new ones coming on . . . the last few days have been intense preparation for the journey. Juergen, who is the head of sales at the firm that has made our wanderlustwagen, has become our very best friend, and we his. He is quite sure that we will never call him from the road with anxious questions – our preparation over these past few days has been exhaustive (please note the gerundive would also apply). Most people drive off after only two hours. We will drive off after 6 days and that is after the tramp spent almost a week on his only! I am apparently, even in the land of Walkueres, the first woman who has lifted a gas bottle into the vehicle and installed it (all my gym training it seems is to some functional end, not just vanity in a short sleeved dress!). He really didn’t want me to do it but the tramp insisted that there might be a time . . . . you can see then that I have not been idly taking notes (though I have done that as well – trust me attaching a trailer and driving a Smart car on to it requires many notes – even more can be added after the first attempt to follow the notes without expert guidance). Some may think that such apparent overkill before driving off is time wasted, I assure you that our efforts were repaid on our first day on the open road. Let me explain.

It was determined that our first venture forth would be only a short on: from Polch to Koblenz (for some serious food shopping – not quite Whole Foods but nearly – and this in a country which had been a culinary laughing stock not so very long ago) and then to Cologne where we would visit Globetrotter (several email exchanges had established that the tramp’s tiny – for his height – size 13 feet could be shod in appropriate trekking boots.) Naturally the WLW is equipped with extraordinary AV equipment, including satnav so this journey was expected to go without any of the difficulties experienced on the first journey the trampess made where her navigational skills (later proved to be of a superior nature) were questioned. We drove confidently to Cologne, the tramp convinced that the streets there, while not paved with gold, were wide enough for such a large vehicle as the WLW (which by this point was, of course, trailing its Smart car behind). As we were within 2 km of the destination (yes!) we turned down a one way street – followed, as one always is, by a stream of other cars – only to find that there was a largish BMW parked in front of a youth hostel (!) not of course in a parking place but in a loading zone and with its backside extending far enough into the road to allow a small car to pass but not, as you might expect, the WLW. The tramp could not leave the car (he is the only one of us with a licence to drive a 40t articulated lorry – and while the WLW is not so big, the articulation could make a blonde at the wheel with only a 7.5t licence somewhat vulnerable). So, I went in to the youth hostel and in my best German explained that someone was in the loading bay and could they move their car. I returned to the WLW and was promptly forced into policeman’s role in directing traffic around us (of course I have a flash red/orange Emergency Clothing vest for such an event but sadly forgot to don it). After a time had passed, I went back to the hostel to check on progress. Apparently they did not have any idea to whom the vehicle belonged (I have to admit that a BMW is a pretty impressive vehicle for someone staying at a youth hostel but some parents are more indulgent than the tramps). A car belonging to the hostel drove up and remarked the car had been there overnight and the only thing to do was call the police! By this time you will have gathered that backing out of the street would have caused major traffic chaos, not to mention a challenge in the extreme for even the tramp whose reversing skills are not to be under-estimated. There was only one thing to do: de-couple the Smart on its trailer, push it back to a building site (only a hundred feet or so) and then back the WLW in front of it and re-couple. Have practiced this manoeuvre a few times, I can report that we didn’t even need to refer to the notes on the computer (or for back safety sake kept on yellow post-its in my pocket). Mission accomplished we set out to find the shoes – just then the police showed up – well one tiny policewoman who proceeded to photograph the offending vehicle. Mobile phones have so many practical uses! Needless to say she did not tow away the vehicle so we continued with our plan.

Now, you can imagine that a man who has the idea to give his wife the world, would not only wish to accompany her in appropriate shoes, but would also wish her never to be lost. In the old days, ordinance survey maps were the rage. But they are bulky and to carry the whole of Europe (let alone the Silk Route) would more than fill one’s back pocket. Some hours after the shoes, a GPS system was decided upon and the loading of all the maps of Germany, Austria, and Switzerland were meant to be entered. (It is possible that France, Italy and Poland were to be entered to, but at a certain point the blonde hair kicked in and I went off for a cappuccino). I wasn’t the only one – the uploading of these magnificent machines is not to be rushed. We were encouraged to go for dinner and come back. We did, we returned, and we were sent away again. Dear reader we returned today (some 3 days later) and I finally walked off with, what I hope, is a fully loaded system.

Of course, first days are meant to expose all short-comings and make one aware of all the things one should be aware of. One of the things one should be most aware of is the turning off of the water pump once water is not needed. Suffice it to say, that our second encounter with the police was when we pulled to the side of a rather major road in downtown Cologne (as we were heading to the tramp’s birthplace) when saddening the kitchen started gushing water. I can only imagine that the cover to the sink was not in place, knocked over the soap which hit the lever on the kitchen tap and with the pump still on started a cascade. We will never, ever, forget to turn the water pump off after washing the dishes again. Luckily the tramp exuded charm when a policewoman told him he couldn’t stop where he was stopped and explained we had had an accident and would be moving on immediately. Contrary to any film you may have ever seen, she was equally charming and nothing more was said. We arrived without further incident in the tramp’s hometown and parked in front of his sister’s house. It is such a nice surprise to wake up in the morning and find a WLW outside with the milk

and so we continue

It is a well known fact that if a man wants to entice a woman out of the nest she has been exquisitely happy in for several decades, he had better be offering something pretty fantastic. Many would think of a home in Tuscany, or the mountains, or some sunny paradise perhaps in the Indian Ocean. Only a brave man with an unusual vision would offer the equivalent of a turtle’s shell and the world. Your trampess is married to such a man. The vehicle that awaited me at Hahn airport is some shell and it was equipped with all the things a man could want on his journey – and many that the trampess herself was thrilled to have – from satellite dish to shower. And the missing items, cooking utensils, pots and pans are things I much prefer to select myself – the tramp knows better than to select such items of great import and ones on which his chances of a cooked meal at the end of a long day depend! Happily while the Germans are not famous for their cuisine (unless you consider the beer, which I don’t), their pots, pans and knives are second to none. The WLW now has the best equipped kitchen outside of Tom Aikens – if only he sat on my shoulder in the kitchen! The tramp was delighted (no doubt in no small part due to having survived on fruit, nuts and ryevita for a week) with his first cooked meal of zander filet, french beans and salad (there is some advantage in having a man who is easy to please). The trampess was content as well with the addition of a glass of Riesling.
It is also well known to sailors that living in a small space requires extreme organisation and discipline. These are not necessary your trampess’s greatest strengths. On the other hand, choosing a German as a husband has enabled her to make up for these deficiencies (of course, not always without testing her otherwise good nature – and to be fair, his, for the same reason in reverse). So moving into a shell significantly smaller than the current living room (never mind kitchen , dining room and countless other useful rooms as well) requires enormous effort. It will not surprise you that the tramp, in an effort to entice the trampess, made every attempt to create the appearance of structure and clarity in the WLW. Suffice it to say that a day later, lulled into a sense of security, I was asked to join in the task of total re-organisation. I can only say that the reputation of blondes as being somewhat slow and dimwitted is totally unjustified and that much can be achieved through diligence and application. Were it not for the tramp’s total aversion to diamonds I might be wearing some tonight – inappropriate as they might be for the current accommodation.

Tomorrow, having been assigned (divide and conquer) the responsibility for mastering all AV equipment (including I suppose the navigation system which competes with the radio – which in Germany cannot be turned off if the NS is on – the only solution being to find a reasonable classical music station which soothes the anguish of having to exit the motorway in the next 150m without prior warning), could prove trying for your trampess. I encourage you to pray for diligence over blondeness.

and so we continue

First outing

Imagine your trampess setting out early on Sunday morning in her finest tramp gear (running kit, after all the modern tramp runs not walks, big German army jacket-maybe the natives will think I am friendly, one less than 10kg shoulder bag and one less than 15kg wheelie - after all the modern tramp arrives not by steamer but by Ryanair) on what should have been a fine spring day.  But this was England and so it was snowing -- not a light, delicate snow, but a blizzard!  but in the spirit of my noble predecessor, I walked through Kensington Gardens to the tube; all services cut or minimum.  Notwithstanding, a train came and I arrived at Liverpool Street Station wet but on time to catch the Stansted Express.  Imagine also my joy in finding that the horribly long queue was to Italy and the one person queue was to Frankfurt.  Was something going right?  Stopped at security because my Nike+ shoes (well don't you want to know how fast, how long, and how many calories each run was? -- after all this is going to be a long run around Europe and I want to know the distance!) were sending out suspicious signals.  Happily (it really was my lucky day), the head of security also ran with these shoes -- not that that meant I was shooed (so to speak) through but he took them off for special inspection and off I went.  Plenty of time for a Starbucks before boarding.  Flight delayed (of course) due to snow in Frankfurt!!!  It isn't supposed to snow there either but when I arrived companion of the first tramp through Europe (that time with an old car and a tent) was waiting for me in the Wanderlustwagen, snow falling.  Happily the inside temperature of WLW is much warmer than inside temperature of a tent.  This could be a more comfortable journey!