Back in the Sattel Again

I started riding horses again. Actually, I started riding last spring, but then took the summer off before returning last week. I wasn't too sure I wanted to return.

After my old instructor took his Icelandic horses and left last winter (see earlier post), the stable, conveniently located 5 minutes away by bike, was taken over by a woman who breeds American Paint horses and teaches Western riding. I had hoped that another instructor with Icelanders would take over, because I really enjoyed riding them. Icelandic horses tend to pace more often than trot, which means no bouncing and therefore no posting. Just a smooth, comfortable ride.

I also didn't want to ride Western, because I've always thought that there was no technique involved--just sit in the saddle and pull the reins left or right. But then, I wasn't too crazy about going back to English either. I definitely don't want to jump, and dressage sounds like too much work. But, like I said, the stable is only 5 minutes away, and the return trip home is downhill all the way!

Well, I was wrong about Western. My new instructor has me riding through slalom not only forwards but backwards too, and I have to make the horses sidestep around the entire arena, which is not easy. Her horses are also trained to respond to shifts in weight and changes in leg pressure. To speed up, I need to shift my weight forward, and to slow down, back. To turn right, I need to press the horse's left side with my left calf, and the opposite to turn left. I use the reins only if the horse doesn't respond to my legs. So much for just sitting in the saddle.

Although I'm learning a lot about riding, and I'm learning Deutsch too, because my new instructor speaks very little English, I still miss my old instructor. "Just get on the horse and ride," he would say, and I truly miss that attitude. I also miss his horses, not only because they paced, but because they were a little wild. They were very sweet to humans, but very playful with each other. When they were running together in the arena or in their paddock, they reminded me of a herd of Mustangs, even though Icelanders look nothing like Mustangs. The Paints, in contrast, are very well-behaved.

And, it seems a little ironic to me that I moved to Germany to ride American horses and in the very American Western saddle.

Handball Mom

In the US, we have soccer and hockey moms, and here in Germany, we have handball moms (and dads) too! Alex played in his first tournament; his team, HC Erlangen Tigers, won two games and lost one.

German Elections

Yesterday Germans voted and re-elected Angela Merkel as their chancellor. And when did I learn of this election? In July, when my German teacher mentioned it in class. And when did I learn who was running against her? A few weeks ago, when they debated each other. And when did I learn of the debate? The day after. And when did I learn of the exact date to vote? On Friday, when Alex came home from school and reminded me to vote, which, of course, I cannot do.

Granted, I don't keep up with politics the way I used to, but this time, I missed the entire horse and pony show. That is, if there ever was one.

Croatia and Belgium

We returned to Fazana, Croatia, this summer, and stayed at the same campground, Bi-Village, as last year. As promised, we stayed longer, and it was worth it.



We went kayaking. We rented a pedalboat and went snorkeling. We went swimming in the Adriatic. As I mentioned last year, camping in Europe is nothing like camping at Rock Island State Park, our favorite in the US. Bi-Village has a resort-like atmosphere with restaurants, pools, and sport facilities. The boys even found a video arcade.



Outside of playing at the campground/resort, we did a little touring. We visited the town of Rovinj, up the coast from Pula. It was touristy, but for good reason--it was very charming. The architecture was Venetian, and it was interlaced with narrow, winding streets lined with art galleries and laundry hanging overhead.




We also took a boat trip to the Brijuni Islands, the private residence of Tito for 30 years. We saw the Cadillac that President Eisenhower gave him, and his private safari park, where he collected exotic animals given to him by politicians from all over the world. This cow, I think, was a gift from Indira Ghandi. And long before Tito, the islands had been the private residence of Roman nobility.


When we came home, the boys' Aunt Irene spent a couple of days with us after her business trip to Switzerland. The boys, of course, took her to the BMX track.



And finally, the weekend before the boys returned to school, we drove to Belgium to visit friends. On the way, we stopped in Maastricht, Netherlands. We've visited Maastricht many times before, but rarely ventured beyond the main square. This time we got there early, ate lunch and walked!


In Belgium, the boys played with their friend, Sasha, while we sampled beer in Leuven, the home of Stella Artois. I think, to most Belgians, Stella is what Budweiser (although Stella is stronger with 5.2% alcohol) is to most Americans, but I really like it.

Sommerferien

Summer break began on August 1, and we've been busy ever since. First, Bob's sister with her family came to visit, and we went through our standard sight-seeing repertoire--Nürnberg, Bamberg, Fränkische Schweiz. It was especially nice for the boys, because they had a chance to spend time with their cousins, who they haven't seen in three years.


Then we did some local things, like spending the day with friends at Freizeitland Geiselwind, before our vacation in Denmark.



This time I was prepared for lazy Denmark, much more so than last year. I brought lots of books with me and told myself not to expect anything special. It worked, because I didn't feel bored once. We did many of the same things we did last year, such as visiting the WWII bunkers on Houvig Strand and Legoland, and since we celebrated Alex's 8th birthday in Denmark, he picked out his present at the Legoland store. We also experienced a new ride--Power Builders. You receive a chip card and program what you want the ride to do. Then you're strapped into a huge arm that moves you around. Alex and I kept it simple by programming it to swing us back and forth and tip us onto our backs, but not flip us over like it did Bob and Philip.

The one new thing I did this year was ride a horse, a Norwegian Fjord, along a beach. I've always wanted to ride on a beach. I've ridden over fields, through forests and in deserts, but this was my first beach. Unfortunately, I rode no faster than a trot, because I'm timid about galloping. But next time...


On the way home, we stopped for the night in Stade, on the Elbe River, not far from Hamburg. To get there, we took a ferry across the Elbe. At first, we thought we would have to wait for a long time, because there was a long line of cars. But there were so many ferries loading and unloading that the entire excursion took less than a half hour.



We stayed at Hotel am Fischmarkt right in the center of Stade, and it was perfect. Stade is a very charming, old port city with a plethora of brick Fachwerk buildings. In Bavaria, Fachwerk houses are mainly wood and stucco, so it was so nice to see the brick variation. Thank you Matthias for recommending it!

Now we are getting ready for our trip to Croatia.

Aufgeber (Quitter)

I just handed in the boys' resignation letters from their swimming classes. Letters! I had to write letters letting the swim club they belong to know that they were quitting. Something about writing it down makes me feel like a quitter, and I hate quitting.

In Chicago, I would register the kids for classes for 10 or 12 weeks at a time. At the end of this period, we would decide whether to re-register, or not. It didn't feel like quitting, because we were simply not returning.

Here, most sport programs are run by sport clubs, so one has to join to participate. The clubs usually allow potential new members to take one or more classes for free before making the commitment. (Some programs let you pay as you go, as with my yoga and horseback riding classes--more on this in a future blog.) After joining, dues are paid through a Lastschrift, which means I give the club my bank info and they pull the money out monthly or quarterly. But in order to terminate the Lastschrift, one has to do it in writing, hence the resignation letters.

Note: Our rent and bills are also paid through Lastschriften. In these cases, I love it, because I hated writing out checks.

As for the boys, they're happy to be done with swimming. Philip's next step would have been competitive swimming, but he's not interested in competing. And Alex just wants a break. I'm the only one that feels like a quitter.

Children's Music

This is what my 7 and 11-year-old are listening to these days.