Day No. 83 - From Faro to Kölle on the Rhine

There are days that begin with tragedy. - Today we ran out of gas, so our morning coffee was in danger. The bus was parked against a wall in such a way that it would not have been possible to change the gas bottle, at least not today. But campers help campers. So we borrowed an electric hob from the neighborhood. The start to the day was saved.

Apart from that, it was time to clean the house today, or should I say Hector's house. We vacuumed and mopped. All the perishable food was given away. Then it was time to pack. Although admittedly we're not taking many things with us to Germany.

After a quick farewell, we were already on our way to Faro airport. Rafael, the owner of the campsite, takes care of this service. What more could you want? - Especially as tips follow, e.g. where to buy fresh water at a reasonable price and so on. - So we arrive at the gate quite relaxed.

The flight to Frankfurt goes smoothly. Finally time to read a little again. As we approach the airport, we are already on our way to the train station. But we hadn't thought that the captain might have won his ticket in the lottery.

I claim to have experienced quite a few hard landings. With an Antonov 2, on a Polish stubble field, even the landing on a Kenyan mogul runway was not entirely gentle and I don't even want to talk about Cuba in 1992. - But all this was nothing compared to today's landing. It felt like we touched down far too quickly, there was a rumble and the whole plane began to lurch noticeably. Our stomachs did too. But then the plane seemed to slowly recover. - Not nice, but then nobody dared to clap anymore. I have rarely experienced such a quiet landing. It was only on the bus that the usual restlessness was felt again.

As we walk through the airport, the Christmas decorations are already shining everywhere. Torgit gets to the heart of the matter. But this is what she has to say.

We still had time for a small beer before the train arrived. - And there it was again, the German "politeness". You can't just sit down at a free table. - But we could, there were plenty of them, which didn't surprise me with the service that followed.

We then took the ICE train to Cologne, then another five minutes by cab and we were at our front door. We're home again, but we already miss our home Hector. But we sweetened the evening with sushi.

Insight of the day: The flight is not over until the aircraft has reached a final parking position and the seatbelt signs have gone out.

Torgit: So, after leaving the writing here to Marc for a long time, I would like to give free rein to my feelings today: At Faro airport, we are once again squeezed into the norm. Ryanair makes this clear to us with their suitcase measuring rack. Or what do they call this thing? I literally have no words for it. So let's get out of our freedom and quickly adjust again.

The first thing I notice at Frankfurt Airport is the Christmas decorations. The next thing I see in the restaurant is an advertisement for the New Year's Eve buffet. At first, this is completely alien to me, I can't relate to it and feel uninvolved. Then I'm relieved: no Christmas stress this year. Not for us. No guilty conscience or the feeling that I'm not living up to the expectations I or others have of me. No permanently latent guilty conscience. No justifying myself to my inner critic. Are the Christmas decorations pretty enough? Could I, should I, must I have made more of an effort? My neighbor's decorations are much nicer. Why didn't I start preparing earlier? I actually like baking cookies. But when? And who's going to eat them? The new pants are already pinching again. What do I give to whom? I quickly buy the presents between team meetings and the end of the month, all too often online due to lack of time, while dinner is simmering on the stove. Although I would much rather support small retailers. And isn't strolling through the small stores actually fun too? If you have time. Why is the oh-so-contemplative Advent season so stressful? What do we eat at Christmas? It's supposed to be something special. You treat yourself to something.

What are we doing and when? Who do we see when? When I was a child, Christmas was all about driving around: lunch at one grandma's, coffee and cake at another grandma's, dinner at great-grandma's. It was always very nice, but also kind of a chore and not without its stresses and strains. There were always arguments on Christmas Eve because everyone wanted to do it especially well and was overwhelmed. Please don't get me wrong, I love my family very much. Not just at Christmas.

Marc and I don't drive around at Christmas, but instead enjoy some peace and quiet. Which we never have otherwise. However, when the flatmates above us go home and the big house seems very quiet and deserted at Christmas, I feel lonely and somehow wrong.

And why are Christmas markets actually closed between the holidays when I have time? There was one good thing about our stress: we were never able to make such a big fuss about Christmas, we didn't have time for it. They always say: you don't have time, you take it for things that are important to you. But for us it was more like: whoever shouts the loudest will be heard. And I've never been particularly good at shouting.

Conclusion of the day: No thanks, I don't want Christmas this year.