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Tagged from Gypsyprincess with Sunday Scribblings

Travel blogs tagged with Sunday Scribblings:

Curves (Sunday Scribblings)

01. June 2008 | en

I noticed some blogs I like and that I frequent outside of the Journizer community participate in Sunday Scribblings, and this weeks title is “curves” and since it fits right in there with yesterday, I have decided to jump in and give it a try!

Learning to drive on Betty meant giving up the idea that a big (bigger depending on who you are, as my instructor was adamant that the 650 was not a big bike, however coming from a tiny 125 Honda, this thing was HUGE to me), was no different than riding a smaller bike. Attitude was the most important factor.

To fear my bike was to create problems, and sure enough it did. In my second lesson while doing figure 8’s I was just not feeling like I was in control. The bike however was. And I dropped her and unceremoniously broke off her clutch handle. My second lesson ended 20 mins in (and they are only 45 mins anyway) with my instructor screaming and yelling at me in German (for his benefit) and English (for my benefit) while he attempted to get her driving again. Needless to say the lesson was over and I felt like crap.

And so Patrick took me to the ADAC compound to practice a bit. At first there was no change, I dropped Betty twice, and despite feeling in my bones she was the bike for me (and anyone who has ever met the bike of their dreams you know I am not being a cheesy idiot here, you really can adore and love your bike) I wondered if it really was a wise decision to buy a big bike after not driving for almost 2 years, and then only having one summer behind me.

Me: still letting Betty ride me:

But then something clicked. Motorcycle driving is suppose to be fun, AND the curves are the best part.

And then it clicked. And once it clicked it stayed so. A 650 is only different in your head. And when you love your bike and forget that your 5”1 and you start to work together, then it no longer matters if you can get both feet on the ground or not. I don’t even want the seat lowered anymore. I just want the right to drive her on the road by myself. Which if things go right in the paperwork department – should be in 2 weeks!

Now I just need to deal with going into a curve at 80 km/h comfortably. 70 – 75 I have no issues, but when my instructor pushes me into 80 – 90, a tad iffy. :-P

Tags: Sharingain's Lair Germany Sunday Scribblings motorcycle license
Map: N 48° 72.720 E 9° 143.371

Created at: 01. June 2008

To logbook | Author: Gypsyprincess

Sunday Scribblings: Nights

08. June 2008 | en

Sunday Scribblings #114 – My Nights

What do you do at night? At different times in your life, how have you spent your nights? Is there any one night in your memory that stands out for any reason, as the most memorable night of your life?

It is presently Sunday morning and I am sitting here in Patrick’s family’s home in Utwill still a little groggy from last night’s sleep. I have been pondering what to write for this week’s Sunday Scribblings. There is so much to say about nights – how they have changed over the years, how they still stand to change, and all the places I have spent my nights. Being something of a gypsy princess gives you some perspective on nights around the world, and being a little older also gives me some perspective on how my nights have changed (and still stand to do so).

But the past week I have had a visitor in Germany, none other than my childhood best friend. Someone who is still very near and dear even though in adolescence we both went our separate paths. And it is rare that a friendship that was so close and then separated can survive those teen years. But survive it we did. We were more like sisters. We held each other at a distance, but we still loved each other and supported each other in any and all major developments in those years. We always saw each other at Christmas, and in university our relationship again became a social one. But wither we are socially hanging out or not, she is one of those people I know will always be there for me, and I for her, no matter what.

And so it is so strange to have her in Germany with me. Just walking up the street with her and going, “Tracey is in Stuttgart!” Worlds collide! :-) And it also makes me think a lot about how I ended up here in the first place, and how much my life changed due to one night in particular, and many nights after that.

I have always been something of a gypsy. The first time I left Canada was as a summer student in Russia. From there I went and worked in Ireland, England, and the Czech Republic before teaching in Japan. After Japan I broke up with my long term boyfriend, and though devastated, I
was happy I had made the right decision. I was in Korea, I was single, and I felt like I was breathing again. I was also partying as hard as I did my second year university when I turned legal. (I looked 12, no club was letting me under age).

And one of those nights, the exact night that my ex arrived in Korea, I met a German in a bar. I let him come home with me, and though I never expected to see him again, he was in the same bar the following weekend, and something of a pattern developed before I finally confessed to being fully smitten.

And so fast forward a few months when he has left, and now my nights are not so fun. There was still the drinking and the dancing with the girls, there was even other victims of “Sherrie has a broken heart that she gave to herself, who wants to help heal it at their own peril.” But the game of if Patrick was going to show that night or not was gone, and that rendered the nights that much less exciting. (although never boring)

And so it went, when a new head teacher came to the school and my schedule took a hellish turn for the worse, and an email came asking if I wanted to visit Patrick in South America, I decided to say yes. I took something of the milk run to get there (with a 3 week visit to Vietnam with Krista first), but arrive I did.

And these were the nights that really changed my life. No get your head out of the gutter. What I mean was the lifestyle and how it changed. We traveled by motorcycle through Argentina and part of Chile, living in a tent when we were not in a city. I never thought before that trip I would be willing to go days without a shower, spend my night setting up and every morning taking down my home.

And the best part was that I had never been happier. There was no pressure, no time restraints, no work that just HAD to be done. Work or school did not invade my dreams, and a campfire filled my nights. I still miss the bbq’s with Argentinian beef, only salted and roasted over the fire.

And so now we plan a three month trip, and next week (as in not this Monday but next Monday I write the written test) I hope to do both tests for my license, one on Monday, and with luck the practical in the same week. Now my nights are full of plotting for the next trip.