How to go on?

Monday, 5th of September. I spent a nice and exhilarant evening with Ciaran. He seemed to be full of energy (which acted steering at me), open and friendly and an interesting personality although he was very tired and busy at the same time. It's a pity we didn't had more time for talking and maybe do some outdoor activities together. But we had to say goodbye the next morning, and because the ferry to Skellig Michael Monastery didn't go (they said they would start to think about crossing the sea not before Friday and this day it was Monday) I went on cycling the coast on the Ring of Kerry.

It was still cloudy and misty but no rain for the first 17 kilometres, then regularly changes between misty rain, normal rain and no rain and all possible combinations of these types. Originally I had planed to cycle the Dingle peninsula, but with all this rain and mist where one is not able to see anything in some distance I cancelled this plan.

I generally wasn't so sure about where to go to this day and especially where to stay this night. At the moment it's difficult to find hosts, it happens often that I don't get a response, and it's not so easy to plan the stages, too. Some days before I had got an answer from my first unspecific request I had sent when I was still in Margate, so I had a general couch offer in Limerick, but Kate and Dave hadn't answered if they would be okay with my concrete time schedule and I also had no contact information. So I decided to cycle up to Tarbert, where from a ferry shorten the way up to the Cliffs of Moher. When being there I could still decide where to go to next.


View Larger Map

In Killorglin I found an Aldi supermarket but had to learn that the range of items differs a lot from what I knew from Germany, but I found a great black long sleeved compression sports underwear shirt, that now I'm wearing most of the time – it's unbelievable how warm and dry this peace of clothing is keeping me. In a 2 € shop I bought a nice little torch, and I also visited a friendly bicycle shop and bought new handle grips and some battery-driven lights. Once again I cycled a hill (the Slieve Mish Mountains – I really like it when the uphill I have cycled has a name…) without really noticing before reaching the top. I crossed Tralee and Listowel, it became dark, it was still or once again raining, it was cold, but I in my functional clothing and rain protection felt warm and comfortable. The wind was okay today, but I still have some respect for suddenly appearing squalls…

When arriving in Tarbert I first looked for the ferry – I had decided to cross the Shannon if still one would go this day, but it didn't, so I looked for a Bed & Breakfast and found an interesting so called Hotel/B&B which has ended up as a scruffy hostel, where I payed 15 € for the night and stayed with three other girls in a six bed room. When the hostel warden opened the door she first had a “What can I do for you?”-smile on her face which stopped immediately when she saw me within my wet clothes – then she hurried to bring me into the house and cared about drying my rain clothes (after three days of rain drying my clothes becomes a serious problem, but up to now I managed to have them dry enough).

Borderline experiences on the Ring of Kerry

Sunday, 4th of September. Today's stage started with bright sunshine. Close before Kenmare one can see this nice waterfalls, which are leastwise partly man-made, but nevertheless (or maybe therefore) very nice.

I had been in Kenmare the day before, too. After the Crossroad Music Session Dean, a friend of him and I had been there, visiting a music shop, where a very nice guy not only repaired the peg of my guitar, he also optimized my strings and the bridge – and all for free. He seemed to be a very impassioned musician and it was fun to see him working with an instrument. Many thanks to Soundz of Muzic!

I also was familiar with the first ten Ring of Kerry kilometres from yesterday's Crossroad Music Session (even though you can't compare a car ride with cycling…), but up to Tahilla I had no idea why everybody is saying one have to see the Ring of Kerry. But then it became very interesting, and when I first reached the open sea (if you can say so) again, it was just great force of nature – stormy, powerful breaker, and then big rain started (all together a very atmospherical composition, my compliments to nature). The rain was much intense but ended after about 15 minutes and the sun dried my clothes pretty fast. Forget whatever I've said about all weathers days in the past – this was before I was familiar with the Irish weather. During the stage from Oxford up to Mitcheldean surely there were all kinds of weather, but one after another and evenly spread about the whole day. In Ireland the weather can change within minutes. After the big rain and the sunshine I had misty rain with clouds, sunshine with rain, rain with calms, storm with sunshine… But in the end the weather decided to be cloudy, rainy and very stormy (but no photo can show).

From Saneem, which seems to be a very touristic place (much sightseeing buses were standing there and also much people were on the street despite the bad weather), up to Castlecove, where to have a break for some salted food I had decided, it was pretty exertive to cycle within all these intense rain and it also became quite hilly so I celebrated every completed half of the last five kilometres to motivate myself – it wasn't that much about being exhausted but you have to have faith within this landscape. The friendly woman at An Siopa Dubh had nothing warm to eat but she offered to prepare a sandwich for me, which also helped.

Sometimes the rain stopped for a while, sometimes I even recognized this, sometimes I didn't recognize the rain had started again. One can become very stoic. There was also constantly uphill what I didn't really noticed within all this wind and all this rain who pattered not only on me but into my face while I was doing my cycling routine. From Cathair Dónall up to the highest point of Ring of Kerry the storm was so extreme, especially when the winding road met the open coast side! It was really hard to keep the faith, all this storm attacks just felt like if someone tries to distress you, to put you down by pushing you around again and again. I wasn't so sure about how to act with this phenomenon. It's not a thing where one can say just stop fighting it – the storm doesn't care about it. Close to the highest point of Ring of Kerry it blew me from my bike – one heavy squall came and pushed me to the left, but I could stave off and by doing so or maybe doing a little bit to much the squall caught me again, this time to the other side, and knocked me and my bike over. I'm not really sure what happened, in the end my bike was laying on the side with its front in opponent direction and I was lying on my back. Nothing happened to me, I just hurried to put my bike and all my stuff that loosened from the bike away from the street. Fortunately there was no traffic at this moment, otherwise it would have been really dangerous. One car, which had passed me immediately before, had stopped in some distance, but when the driver saw I seemed to be okay he went on.


View Larger Map

After this I once was sitting next to the street and crying. You feel so helpless because it's nothing what's within your powers. I wasn't exhausted, you can't say I was unalert or did some other mistake (beside cycling within this weather), the storm was just so much more powerful than I. After a while I went on, pushing the bike carefully, and after the next turn not only I was outside the stormy area I also reached the top, and from now on I rolled downhill, but extremely carefully and totally aware of this life-threatening situation. Now my bike has some more scratches, the Ganesha clinger, whom I had tied on my handle bar extension, peeled away, but I found it on the street.

Down in Waterville maybe five kilometres later I had a break and found a nice hostel and also much nicer backpackers. I was full of energy and had some nice chit-chat, two hot chocolates with marshmallows (my first time), some chips for free because one guy attained them for unravel a mystery (he will study philosophy and mechanical engineering – I love this combination…). And then I went back outside to cycle, full of positive energy while all the others were so happy to be inside a warm, protected house. I just felt fine.

Waterville isn't that cosy as most of the other Irish towns and places I have seen so far, especially not on such a rainy and stormy day, but a real bleakly seaside town, affronting the elements. Meanwhile it went dark and I had some problems with my front light which works a little bit irregular (my back light seem to work not at all). Shortly after my speedo computer went mad by showing no speed or the wrong speed (and sometimes the right speed, but one can't trust). This is a thing what really frustrated and concerned me, it undercuts my inner balance. Surely the display of the completed kilometres is sometimes important for orientation, for example when you have to catch a side road in a special distance, but what concerned me much more was the fact that my cycling doesn't seem to count if it's not measured. It galls me that this effects me so much. (After a while my speedo computer seemed to be okay again, but I couldn't see that much, too.)

To find my tonight's host Ciaran I had to take a cross road one or two kilometres before Cahersiveen. But with more and more darkness surrounding it's not that easy to read the signs – once again I missed having a torch. So I was standing at one cross road and tried to read my map by using the crossing cars' headlight. When one car slowed down to turn off I signed them to stop so I could asked for some help and in the end the car driver offered me a lift. Today's stage had 80 kilometres.

Some amazing perceptions of nature

Friday, 2nd of September. It was 1:30 P.M. when I left the boat. Easy cycling like every day, good to be on the road again. While being on my way, a car passed, and outside the backmost window Marek smiled at and waved to me. Funny coincidence to see him again. Today's stage was planed with 75 kilometres and ended up with 105 kilometres, because I missed a sign in Ballydehob and didn't realize this until I asked someone in Schull (there's a kink on my map, so this Schull area was on the back side which I couldn't see because I had thought to be in the other side's area). But I didn't want to turn back, especially because I liked the place I was now and wanted to go on – who matter's about kilometres? In the end I was so glad I made a detour because it was such a great landscape, such a lovely road, just so nice and exhilarant. After 70 kilometres I had a short break in Bantry, and then the other great part of this day's journey began.

It had been cloudy the hole day with some sunshine from time to time, some wind – just nature. Then some drizzling rain started, but so misty – such thing doesn't feel like rain, it's just refreshing. If this is the famous Irish rain, then I love it. I decided not to dress more rain protection than my raincoat, which was generally a good idea, you definitely don't need rain pants – but I had to learn this day that anyway you need some protection for the shoes (and maybe another warm jacket)… Cycling the coast between Ballylickey and Glengarriff was just great outlook, all these colours and structure within the hazy environment – just great. Then the very hilly part of this day's stage started, as I cycled the Caha Mountains. I was on my own, nearly no passing cars, I wasn't able to see anything in some distance because of all this haze. And shortly after I also couldn't see that much because it went dark.

It went pretty cold, but with the misty rain outside, which had become heavier meanwhile, and the sweating inside I didn't want to stop and grub deep in one of my bags, I just tried to stay warm by going on with fast cycling. When the road finally got downhill, I cycled through an amazing tunnel, just a hole in the hill with all these surrounding mountain stones. And my bike light illuminated the scene. Fast downhill through the rainy night, I felt colder and colder, but finally I reached Dean's house, that wasn't easy to find in the darkness. There I had a bath, but it took some time until I felt some warmth inside of me again. But what an amazing day.

PS:
I had my first little accident today, if you can say so. I failed the asphalt road, so my wheel touched the ground next to the road, so I lost balance when trying to put something out of my little handle bar bag. But I had only 10 or 15 km/h, so nothing happened apart from my bike turned over and the handle bar was twisted (and I now have a bruise).

The amazing cyclist did a new record in long distance cycling!

Tuesday, 30th of August. I did a new record in long distance cycling: 167.5 kilometres – this maybe could be not only a long distance record for this tour but also in my cycling history, but I'm not sure about that. The first 50 kilometres I cycled the N 25 road up to Cork, not that much interesting because of the street's character, but I did extremely fast cycling! I had an average of 23.6 km/h (that's most likely also my personal record in general related to long(er) distance average). And even at the end of the day I still had an average of 19 km/h. I don't want to boast, but this is nearly unbelievable to me, too. Altogether it took me 8 hours and 45 minutes pure cycling.

I had a nice break in Cork, sitting in a pub, drinking some cappuccino and eating yesterday's roll while discovering a new favourite band – Fleet Foxes – by listening to their Album Helplessness Blues. And I had also a nice talk with two man sitting next to me who were interested in my cycling (one of them is a journalist, so maybe I become popular now…)

When leaving Cork I lost my way, bound to the N 25, which cost me 10 extra kilometres at all. And the periodic hooting of the car drivers on this motorway like three lane road doesn't made it better. (We disagreed about how much space I was allowed to take.) When I finally found the R 600 the first five kilometres were heavy uphill, so it took me 65 kilometres until the landscape was enjoyable. This also meant it went to be hilly and I had advertise winds – which curiously affected only me. The plants, bushes and trees held it was windless.

Nearly the whole day it was cloudy (and thereby cool), and it looks surely funny when nevertheless I am wearing sun glasses because of wind protection – "It's dark twilight… and we're wearing sunglasses". This day it constantly happened that I thought to be slow and automatically changed down, to use the smallest of the three front sprocket, but was still ten km/h to fast for doing so.

After 112 kilometres I had and definitely needed a long break and some salty, warm things to eat. This exhausted feeling came all of a sudden over me. I found Grainne's Bar in Timoleague, which was quite the right choice (even though there hasn't been an alternative since the last ten kilometres…). This pub had been the Award Winner of Best Irish Traditional Pub as the Dining Pub of the Year 2001, 2004 and 2005. And Grainne is a really nice woman.

Back on my bike the sun came out. From Clonakity I called Marek, my host for this night (and also the next days). A nice butcher lady lent me her mobile phone (she offered it by herself, when I asked for a public phone – it's really not easy to find public telephones, but there are so much lovely people in this world…). Then it became dark outside.

Among Clonakity and Skippereen I cycled through some very dark areas. No lamps, no civilization, just my little bike light. Dark road, much darker trees and bushes surrounding me on both sides, the idea of a blurred light blue far away over the horizon. I felt I was cycling uphill, and later that I was in some height, but had no orientation at all (so I was unable to see signs, too). Kind of borderline experience. Very intensive, especially when you stop and listen to the silence and look at the stars. – So much stars! So bright! It kind of frightened me to stand in this absolute darkness.

There were also cars who passed respectively came towards me from time to time – and about 50 percent of them didn't turn off their driving beam … But it was nice how the lights of the cars behind me made the street's cat sights (placed in the road) reflecting, so you could see how the road turns. Among Skippereen and Baltimore it was once again just dark, but had another character. Smaller road, more winding, close to the sea (which I couldn't really see but feel), also some cold from the bottom and ground fog, that one could only see when a car was passing. And once again this unbelievable starry sky. So bright I could see the milky way, and all the stars appeared in three dimension – and I could also see the lines between the stars which make the constellations.

When I reached the border of Baltimore (without noticing) someone called my name, and out of the dark Marek appeared, who has waited for me after coming back from a meeting. It was 10:30 P.M. Walking through the night on a small path up to the little scruffy boat where Marek is living at a few months ago together with Anne, who is staying at this place for years. Food, warmth, harbour.

Last stage and last night in Great Britain

Wednesday, 24th of August. I started in Llangadog with sunshine at 9 A.M., but this sunshine was just at Jane's place and resumed in the region I cycled yesterday, but in the direction I had to cycle now it was overclouded – big, dark and heaving clouds all over there. And you know you have no chance to escape from that…

First I crossed Llandeilo, a nice little town which is placed around a hill – it starts at the hill's bottom and it ends at the bottom on the other side of this hill. And I had the pleasure to cycle this twice, because I overlooked my route branched off immediate at the boundaries. Shortly after that I reached the rain. And what a rain. It rained cats and dogs. And it was extremely cold, too, so for the first time during my tour I needed an extra pullover. It rained really bad. Rain from above (as usual), rain from the side (especially when cars passed), rain from below (because the streets had turned into lakes). Occasionally I thought about hitchhiking, but otherwise this wasn't the best route to do so (once again good ole A40) and also there was no place to stay and ask some truckers. I cycled one hour through this extreme, intensive rain, then another half an hour just through usual rain. Close to Carmarthen the rain stopped and some shafts of sunlight showed up. And in Carmarthen I suddenly realized that I was no longer able to cycle with usual speed. I haven't noticed before this had been really exhausting.

So I had a break and my first fish and chips – and now I finally know, what this actually is. When I was young I imagined it as something like French fries with kind of fish fingers or fish nuggets, served in a paper cone (which is a practice I couldn't understand. In Belgium fries were originally served in a paper cone, but now this changes. Bart told me the paper cone thing was the best, because the grease can accumulate at the bottom). Later I didn't thought about it any more, so I never looked up. My fish and chips looked like these you can see in the photo, but were served on a plate together with different packed sauces.

Then cycling went on and the weather was okay now. The route wasn't as interesting as the day before and it wasn't that hilly, so much more cycling to reach today's goal, the coast. All in all I cycled 125 kilometres this day, and I made a new speed record: 64.5km/h. In the afternoon the weather became really sunny. I had a nice break at a quiet resting place, the lady in a take-away van had closed, but anyway she sold me a cappuccino, we had a nice chat about my tour, and she donated me a small pack of this delicious Welsh cakes. I had a really nice break while sitting in the sun and feeling good.

While approaching the coast I felt exited – so close to the sea, so close to Ireland. The last 20 or 30 kilometres it was once again very hilly – so once again the landscape became very interesting – and I looked forward to see the sea which maybe would appear behind every lift. And then it did.

Fishguard is great, lovely, a real seaside town. First I crossed the town to have a look at the ferry harbour and see how it works. Then I looked for a place to sleep and found a lovely old hotel, that was run by an older lady (Cartref Hotel). Very fair price and even a small water boiler next to a box including some tea bags plus sugar and milk packages in my room – I suppose other guests usually don't use them as much as I did… Later I tasted a Horlicks malt, what seems to be very popular especially in Wales as a night drink (I don't know why). I also went out to enjoy the coast, the town and the sundown and had a tasty Welsh stout and a nice little meal in a pub, where they gave me a wooden spoon so the waiter could find my table.

PS:
Meanwhile I have learned Cartref is Welsh and means home…

An all weathers day

Sunday, 21th of August. Yesterday I cycled 100 kilometres from Oxford up to Mitcheldean, that is close to Wales. It was an exhausting day, so today I stay for an extra day at my couchsurfing host's place, where a garden party will happen today. Deborah is preparing all the food while I am writing my blog on her computer (but I will also help her after writing…). It's just great here – great nature, great outlook, great garden and very great house with lots of personal design to discover.

I had an all weathers yesterday. It started with sunshine, so I was able to navigate by position of the sun (what I did also when I left London – and I did it pretty well!), then it went to be very cloudy and windy. I cycled A roads most of the day, which were really nice most of the time (mostly A40 road, then A436 when it splits up, and from Gloucester once again the A40 road. Then the very hilly part of that day's stage began when cycling the A4136 road).

Since I had left Oxford (and surely inside Oxford, too) in his area the people had (and of course still have) real stones at one's disposal to build houses. Therefore the main colour of the houses is a mixture of beige, ochre, grey and white. Very convenient. Once I cycled past a church with a sign in the front garden. While reading "an open meeting to discuss the future" I stopped, because it's a great idea and highly fascinating, to discuss the future (especially in a church). When reading the rest of the sign, it was only – but still – interesting, because it offers an insight into the actual proceedings.

I was in a bad mood during forenoon. Once again having no idea why am I doing this. Now it's kind of boring, just routine and somehow futile. Maybe this is normal change while doing long-run cycling. I didn't cycle more than two weeks without interruption before. But I also have a feeling of futile in general, about don't want to have any responsibilities at all and just doing nothing (especially no work). Then I think about quitting the tour. Otherwise I'm close to Ireland now, which is the main reason for this tour, and doing the French part of the tour will mean just going home. But I feel more and more depressed and desperate (close to cry while writing this). I am afraid about this, because I'm not able to classify.

It rained two times yesterday. But when I cycled the A4136 road the sun came out and also with the hilly landscape the route went to be much more challenging. This all together gave me a good feeling (good to know the surrounding can have such influence). When I claimed the main up-hill, the street stayed at this altitude while still doing some up and downs – and the outlook was just fantastic. And I had two great downhills with more than 60km/h (so now I have a new record with 62.4km/h). Then once again the rain came and at this time I was pretty exhausted. After five more kilometres I arrived at the lovely house of Deborah's.

It was a nice, relaxed evening. I tasted self made chocolate chilli ice-cream (the mild version), which was very interesting and the best chocolate ice I ever had. I went early to bed and slept quite long. Today it's a sunny day and I'm looking forward to see more of the surrounding area, to spend time with Deborah and meet new people at the garden party – once again I think it is good to have the guitar with me.

Deborah is very spirited, always laughing, she's – like me – so attached to little details to prettify the environment and to make the world a place where you can discover surprising, beautiful, interesting and special things all the time. It's good to be here.

PS:
I feel homesick and homeless and I really would need a long time hug and the possibility to cry while laying in ones arms.

PPS:
The garden party was very nice. Had some good talks and met much lovely people…

The beauty, the ugly and back to normal

Thursday, 11th of August. Leaving lovely Brugge while the sun is shining – I saw a swarm of doves just standing in the air and also flying backwards (caused through the heavy wind this day I think) – and cycling the first 25 kilometres along the very nice Kanaal Brugge-Oostende, which is mostly used by motor yachts. While I was cycling in direction north-west, the usual adverse wind caught me diagonal.

In Oostende I reached the sea. I love the sea. On the other hand the Belgium coast is pretty boring, but tries to stick up by being extremely stormy, Elise and Julien, my tonight's hosts, told me, the wind had 27–53 km/h, justifiably so you can say it was stormy (tomorrow it's probably better, it's said it will be 13–24 km/h). While I was still able to cycle around 20 km/h beneath the canal, I now had to slow down to 8 to 12 km/h, what I did for 20 kilometres from Oostende up to Westende (at the Albertkanaal it was 17 to 21 km/h). It was quite hard not to be blown away. At the end my face laced with grains of sand. The ugly houses, kind of high-riser with the charm of a building made with precast concrete slabs after all offered some wind protection.

I don't understand the Belgians. Like in Germany, too, they have places with caravans. In Germany there are many bowers within allotment garden, mostly placed at town border, often close to train tracks and also motor ways. But they are very green with much planting, a place for once own to relax. There are also places for static caravans, which are placed into the green, often into a recreation area. Usually nice places (if you are okay with the bourgeois middle-class character). But in Belgium they have places with static caravans, all of them same type, standing extremely close next to each other without any place for doing some personal arrangements. And they are usually placed beside the most highly frequented road. Why do they do this? Have they no sense for beauty and cosy settings?

The Belgian north looks shabby. It is reminiscent of Romania, where Klaus and I had been some years ago and also some parts in the North German Plain – uninteresting houses on a broken street with even worse bicycle paths. It turned to get better when I reached the Belgium/French frontier. Today's goal was Dunkerque, which I reached after 85 kilometres.

I had a warm welcome at Elise's and Julien's home. They are so friendly, relaxed and interested in a broad range. We had some dedicated talk about social and education system in France and Germany, including a side trip to politics, effective and useless development assistance in Third World Countries, being parents (I and their little one and a half year old son Simon immediately made friendship) and some more. They were so considerate, we had a great supper with an even better cake, Julien showed me the route to the harbour while moving the whole kilometres way on Google streetview… Elise and Julien, please come to visit me in Bamberg and make me able to be such a great host as you two are!

In Bruges…

Wednesday, 10th of August. Brugge is so great! I arrived yesterday night at 10:30/11 P.M. (after 95 kilometres of cycling) and now I'm in a nice youth hostel. This town is so lovely and relaxing – just all these tourist are disturbing… I don't feel like one of them. I don't want to take a boat trip through the canals and I'm not interested in making photos. It's unbelievable how much boats are there and all of them full with people (as one can see in this photo someone else shot…)

After spending much time on the internet working on my blog while Bart was at work, it was 4 P.M. when I left Antwerp yesterday. It's funny to ask somebody: "I want to cycle to Brugge, in what direction do I have to go?" – he will meet you with disbelief. First I had to cross a river. There are several tunnels for bicyclists and pedestrians, the elevator goes 31 metres down.

In this elevator I had a conversation with a cycling retiree, who come back from a cycling tour to Portugal quite recently. I asked him for a bike path to Brugge, and he invited me to follow him, as the route I had to take was also his way home, so I had some nice companion for the next 5 kilometres. Then I cycled a bike path he had shown to me nearby the arterial highway, which meant heavy traffic noise, but this stopped after 20 kilometres, so it was nice and easy to cycle and, best of all, the most direct route. After 50 kilometres I had a cappuccino break in Zelzate. I always forget that the Belgians have their own understanding of what's a cappuccino. They also offer some creamy thing, once I had something what could have been vanilla butter (very good to eat separated!) once something that could have been egg liqueur. Until I approached Brugge with 25 kilometres left everyone I asked for the route to get sure I didn't miss something showed the same reaction: meeting someone with disbelief, complete amazement, repeating the word Brugge in different languages and pronunciation – and at least they informed me about how much kilometres Brugge is away from where I was now (and each time the mentioned a much to small number!).

After Antwerp hasn't been that good, I expected nothing from Brugge. And than it impressed me totally, because I arrived at one of the town gates, Kruispoort – and there was such a great warm light, so lovely, so calm… And – what a fortunate coincidence! – I found myself just in the youth hostel's street.

What a welcome. Some guys at the connected pup were immediately curious about my guitar, another one wanted to invite me for a glass of wine. But I first wanted to unload my stuff to the 10 persons bedroom. When I came back, the guys were gone, but I found my glass of wine on a feeder pillar. So I went with my glass along the street, and joined a nice small Turkish diner, where I had a lasagne and shortly companion, too, because it turned out, that the Turkish owner was able to speak German. He had learned it in school and worked about ten years in Ankara, where he'd practised a lot, but had never been to Germany. He invited me for another glass of wine, we had nice talk, he complimented my eyes, then tried to hold my hand, so I had to made plain to him, this was to much, and we went on with talking. We hugged for good bye, and he once again tried to made it a closer hug, I eluded from, but altogether it was e very nice, interesting, strange night. I had a very late shower and some very good sleep.

Hobbes has said, he no longer wants to travel inside a bag, and he's a big tiger, so today we visit town together. We greet Klaus, Nilsbär, Kleiner Bär and Henry!