What day of the week is it today? How long have we been on the road? Has the sausage that is in the lower left corner of the refrigerator expired?
Questions I never had to ask myself at home. Jens and I have been living on Sissi for almost a month now, and it sometimes seems to me as if we only left yesterday. At other times, it seems like we've been on the water together for half an eternity. On longer sea passages, such as when crossing the North Sea, the changed day and night rhythm makes things even more difficult, because we sleep at every opportunity that presents itself.
The date and time only become important when it is necessary to consult the tide calendar. The tide relentlessly sticks to its timetable and is more reliable than the Swiss railways. If we miss the tide, we can't drive until 12 hours later or we burn a lot of diesel so that we can drive against the current.
All in all, it's exciting to see how our attitude towards the outside world changes. When the train wasn't running at home because lightning struck a signal box, I always thought about how I could get out of the mess as quickly as possible. Today I'm above Neptunes staircase and can't go down because a railroad bridge below was struck by lightning and has to be repaired first. It is not certain whether we will come down tomorrow. But I don't care, because I don't have to stress myself and nobody stresses me.
Jens said to me today that he hadn't eaten any fish & chips on this vacation. I think the term “vacation” is inappropriate for our tour, but what else should you call it? No matter what we call it, we'll just go to a less greasy restaurant these days and eat fish & chips. Where is the problem? We don't have to be home after a few weeks and then go to work, but are somewhere completely different and look at the country and the people there.
You have to approach people. The Scots do not just speak to a German like that, that may be because they may expect language difficulties (there are) or whatever. But when we approach them, the result is usually a friendly, good encounter. That's why we're on the road, we want to get to know the country and its people. All over.
Today at the Coop in Corpach I noticed how much time and space have run away from me. I was looking for a remedy to relieve the itchiness of midgee bites. Although they had an anti-midgee drug, they had no anti-itch drug. So I asked about a pharmacy. The seller explained the way to me and said afterwards that it was closed on Sunday. I beg your pardon? Naturally! Today is Sunday!
How will this go on? In the logbook of our trip there are the date and time for each day, but that is easy to write down and is quickly forgotten. Habit alone dictates that a new day should begin at midnight. But midnight is often a time when we are out and about. We sleep for it the next day. If we arrive at the port after midnight, sleep in, then pay the port fees and then explore the area, we get a second night for free because we only pay for calendar days. It's funny, then one day suddenly turns into two days. It definitely feels that way. The second night sleeps just as well as the first.
I'm curious what this trip will do to me. Jens feels the same way.