Welcome back to Germany

Germans are cold and distant? - True.
The English are cold and distant, too? - Maybe so.
Worth kicking up a fuss about it? - No.
Can you feel a big, fat BUT peeking around the corner? - Yes.

There are a few people on this planet who don't interest me, and even fewer people who I don't like. Would you call it deceptive if I hid my attitude towards them? I don't think so. Call it a social convention or whatever, but there must always be some time for some small talk. This sounds like common sense, but mind you, it is not. In England at least, a basic level of politeness has luckily become a convention, and people don't feel smacked straight in their mouths if the only person in a pub to talk to is your most despised enemy alive. He will talk to you - and, yes why not, the weather can be worth talking about.

I don't really know if it is Germany or me, but I personally think that it is childish to be rude. Maybe you act superficially, but at the same time you are also diplomatic. As it says in the Prayer for the Stressed: "Help me to be careful of the toes I step on today, as they may be connected to the feet I may have to kiss tomorrow."

Well, if you are still not sure whether ignoring a person or taking the hassle of being polite (and talk) to a person is the right desicion, think about these remote possibilities:

First, if it turns out that the basis of presupposed hostility stems from a mere misunderstanding and you end up liking that person, you win.
Second, if it turns out that person manifests your initial impression and your hatred deepens significantly, you are once again reminded that you should better be cautious. ["Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer" (The Godfather, Part II).]
Third, in my opinion an individual's self-perception depends on the social network rank that one mans. So even if you engage in some small talk without ultimate passion, you've done something good (even if this self-perception boost is only of a virtual nature). Why should you not try and give someone a nice feeling?

So hey, why being so arrogant, thought- and careless, you bloody Germans? You afraid of wasting your time or missing out on something? This is a win-win situation!

Cobham Hall

I once again worked for Bell in July 2011. This time, however, I signed up for a post within the BLAP department (Young Learners). Bell rent boarding schools in England for the summer months each year. One of the sites is Cobham Hall. I don't want to waffle about my job in particular even though there would be so much to talk about, but rather focus on the magnificent 16th century mansion and its surrounding gardens!

With my experience at Cobham Hall I brought my second England adventure to a successful and nice end! I can't tell when I'll be back on this island, but I'll be back :)

Mosely Rugby 10 May - 23rd June

Matti and I entered a tournament for social taggers, seven-a-side. It was organised by www.moseleyrugby.co.uk. We had four group games, and two knock out matches at the end. We finished third out of eight.

Rachel, me, Matti, Mark, Kieran, Adam, Graeme, Laura, Ali

Most folk playing are members of staff at the University of Birmingham. A funny thing was that we played a few ruggers from my RFC (http://www.pitchero.com/clubs/dixonians/) in the semi finals, the only team that beat us in the whole tournament...

Well, the following week we arrived before time to the small final (3rd place), so your captain (Kieran) decided to go for a drink first - fair enough. In the end it worked out perfectly well and we gave them a proper trashing, haha!

All good things must come to an end, and what remains is a great memory of my rugby season in England. A huge thank you to all players I have trained, lost, won and partied with!!

London calling to the faraway towns; A nuclear error, but I have no fear; London is drowning-and I live by the river

I hop on the train to London. Again. Please click on London Calling for further information. I haven't been to Manchester yet, neither have I been to Liverpool. I really want to visit Jonny and Alessia, and don't care about sightseeing. When I get to London Jonny meets me in front of the Dominion theatre.

Dominon Theatre at Tottenham Court Road

We are having some Mexican food and once again I realise that people in London are – to some extent - displaced people. They don't belong and this is what I find slightly scary about this huge place.

It is 4pm and we accommodate ourselves in a nice pub that has Austrian style beer on tap. It has been one and a half years since Jonny and I last saw each other, but it does not feel that long. I then arrange to meet with Alessia at a pub called 'Barrel Boy and Banker' near London Bridge. This is us in front of it:

Jonny, Alan, Alessia, me (right to left)

The next day, I soak up the atmosphere of Camden Town Market and spend the last few hours wandering among stands, tourists and other weird folk. Great mini holidays. Thank you big, smelly and mysterious London.

Gelert

 

Llewellyn And His Dog
by Hon. W. R. Spencer

The spearman heard the bugle sound, And cheerily smiled the morn; And many a brach, and many a hound,

Obeyed Llewellyn's horn.

And still he blew a louder blast, And gave a louder cheer: "Come, Gelert, come, why are thou last Llewellyn's horn to hear!

"Oh, where does faithful Gelert roam? The flower of all his race! So true, so brave -- a lamb at home,

A lion in the chase!"

'Twas only at Llewellyn's board The faithful Gelert fed; He watched, he served, he cheered his lord,

And sentinel'd his bed.

In sooth he was a peerless hound, The gift of Royal John - But now no Gelert could be found,

And all the chase rode on.

And now as over rocks and dells The gallant chidings rise, All Snowdon's craggy chaos yells

With many mingled cries.

That day Llewellyn little loved The chase of hart or hare; And scant and small the booty proved,

For Gelert was not there.

Unpleased Llewellyn homeward hied, When, near the portal-seat, His truant, Gelert, he espied,

Bounding his lord to greet.

But when he gained the castle-door, Aghast the chieftain stood; The hound all o'er was smeared with gore --

His lips, his fangs ran blood!

Llewellyn gazed with fierce surprise, Unused such looks to meet, His favorite checked his joyful guise,

And crouched and licked his feet.

Onward in haste Llewellyn passed -- And on went Gelert too -- And still, where'er his eyes were cast,

Fresh blood-gouts shocked his view!

O'erturned his infant's bed he found, The bloodstained covert rent, And all around, the walls and ground,

With recent blood besprent.

He called his child -- no voice replied; He searched -- with terror wild; Blood! blood! he found on every side,

But nowhere found the child!

"Hell-hound! my child's by thee devoured!" The frantic father cried; And, to the hilt,

his vengeful sword He plunged in Gelert's side!

His suppliant looks, as prone he fell, No pity could impart; But still his Gelert's dying yell, Passed heavy o'er his heart.

Aroused by Gelert's dying yell, Some slumberer wakened nigh: What words the parent's joy can tell,

To hear his infant cry?

Concealed beneath a tumbled heap, His hurried search had missed, All glowing from his rosy sleep

The cherub-boy he kissed.

Nor scathe had he, nor harm, nor dread -- But the same couch beneath Lay a gaunt wolf, all torn and

dead -- Tremendous still in death!

Ah! what was then Llewellyn's pain, For now the truth was clear;

The gallant hound the wolf had slain, To save Llewellyn's heir.

Vain, vain was all Llewellyn's woe; "Best of thy kind, adieu! The frantic deed which laid thee low This heart shall ever rue!"

And now a gallant tomb they raise, With costly sculpture decked; And marbles, storied with his praise, Poor Gelert's bones protect.

Here never could the spearman pass, Or forester, unmoved; Here oft the tear-besprinkled grass Llewellyn's sorrow proved.

And here he hung his horn and spear, And there, as evening fell, In fancy's ear he oft would hear Poor Gelert's dying yell.