A fast week

After 6 weeks here on my own, it was a nice change to have a visitor. I’d been so involved with getting myself oriented – at work and in general – and then with trying to keep up with training and racing, that I’d not had much time to relax.

It was still early when Carolyn arrived. After dropping her things at my apartment I suggested we go to the bakery. She started towards the car, and was surprised when I said we could walk there in less than 10 minutes (one of the things I like about being here).

Going to the bakery is something you “must” do here. My first week, while taking German classes, I mentioned to my teacher that I had gone to the supermarket and bought bread. She said, “Do not buy bread from the supermarket. Go to a proper bakery.”

At the bakery we started a week-long routine of taking pictures of our food.

We stopped at the grocery on the way home. Carolyn looked up and down the aisles at all the unfamiliar items. The foreignness of the grocery is part of what makes being here interesting: strange food, strange money, strange customs like bringing your own bag, or depositing a Euro to release the shopping cart.

In the end Carolyn picked out something that would be familiar to her: a box of Kellogg’s “Smacks”.

I think we repeated the bakery and grocery trip about every other day, and found something new to try every time.

I told Carolyn she was helping me to do some things I’d not had the chance to do on my own: we found the closest movie theater (which actually shows some movies in English), tried some new restaurants, took trips to Köln (Cologne) and Belgium, went to the top of the Rhine Tower in Düsseldorf (see photo). She helped figure out how to work the machine to print train tickets and itineraries.

We also learned:
• The movie theater gives you assigned seats (next to someone, even though the theater is only one-third full).
• The dogs all seem exceptionally well behaved.
• None of the ticket machines at the train station seem to work when you are in a hurry to catch a train.
• When you are about out of gas on the Autobahn, the next gas station will not be one that takes your gas card. But as soon as you fill up, the next one after that will.
• When you are on the tram, if you stand too close to the door it will not open and people will yell at you.
• There are plenty of cash machines when you don’t need them, but none when you do.

But for me the most enjoyable times were simple things we did: going to the market and bakery, shopping in Düsseldorf, riding the train, cooking out on the patio, picnic by the Rhine, watching a movie on TV in German and trying to make sense of it.

The week went by incredibly fast, and it seemed so quiet after she left for home. Her box of “Smacks” is still on the counter. They’ll go stale now, but I can’t bring myself to throw them out. They’re a little reminder of her trip here. The morning after she left, I poured some in a little cup and ate them with my coffee.

A new traveler

My daughter Carolyn came to visit last week. She flew here by herself, as an “unaccompanied minor”. At 13, she’s already becoming a confident traveler. Earlier this summer she spent 10 days in Mexico with a classmate, then flew back to the US by herself.

I’m pleased she’s had the opportunity travel on her own. As a parent I naturally had some anxiety, but overall I think it’s positive. We are of course protective of our children, but sometimes I’ve had the feeling this comes out as an unwarranted fear of the world.

I remember being surprised last November, while staying in Munich, when I saw two girls Carolyn’s age riding the subway at 11:00 PM. They appeared to be normal kids, on their way from a movie or something (i.e., not out looking for trouble).

At the time I couldn’t imagine my daughter doing that. But since I’ve been living here, I’ve noticed many children riding the public transportation without adults, walking around the city, in stores, on their bikes, out in parks. They seem quite at ease.

I also get the sense that other people – adults – tend to look out for them. I wonder if that is perhaps the flip side of telling other people what to do.

One less race

Here is more evidence that I’m getting soft. Sunday morning there was a race about 40 miles from here. Right up until the time I needed to leave, I debated about going. I had a cold since Tuesday and wasn’t feeling completely better. But the sun was out so I decided to go. By the time I got to the race, the weather had turned and it started to rain. A cold, rainy, 5-turn criterium just did not sound appealing, so I left. Fortunately, at Autobahn speeds the trip back was quick.

Back in Düsseldorf, it had not rained. I went out for a nice 3 hour ride then washed my bike for the first time since I’ve been here.

If this had been a race back home, I would have just done it in the rain. Back home I would have had teammates also willing to race in the rain. Back home I know how everyone rides and I don’t so feel uneasy on a slippery course. And back home we would of course rehash the “epic” race Tuesday night at Westlake.

It was pretty easy for me not to do the race. There was no need for me to tell teammates or anyone else I wasn’t staying. I just got in the car and left. It’s a nice change to be completely on my own. But I also find myself missing the camaraderie of the racing scene back at home – another one of those things you don’t think about until it’s not there. I’m sure there is camaraderie here too, but between the language barrier and being a stranger, I haven’t yet found it.

April in August

I did not imagine that Düsseldorf in August would be more like Cleveland in April.

I have not kept track exactly, but I think it has rained just about every day in August. Not all day, every day, but just enough to make it hard to plan for outdoor things. Unless you don't mind getting wet. Like today, it's been mostly cloudy with a very few bits of sun, and now, when it's time to leave and maybe go for a ride, it has started to rain. I think that might be one of those laws of the universe, along with the one that says a rainy weekend is followed by a beautiful Monday.

I've not yet learned the weather pattern here. At home, armed with Internet connections and almost real-time radar, we cyclists like to think we're amateur meteorologists. And after a while, you do get to see patterns in the weather. I can look at the radar and have a pretty good idea whether I can go ride and stay dry or not.

Here, at least so far in August, the weather has no pattern that I can make sense of. It will be raining at work, but not where I live (25 km away). Or I ride North and it's raining, then turn around and find it never rained only a few km to the South. The upside is there have been some interesting cloud formations:


After almost 4 weeks of this, it's getting to me. Part of my problem is I don't like to clean my bike. And given my apartment living now, it's even harder. I can't really go out on the sidewalk and wash my bike. And actually I've been told that is probably "not allowed". I was told you may not wash your car out on the street.

So if it's looking like rain is likely, I've not been going out or have been staying close to home.

What do the cyclists do around here? Sunday, while sitting in a coffee shop and watching the rain through the window, I saw a line of about 10 cyclists go by. This was a hard rain, and they were "just" recreational riders, not racers, so they didn't "need" to be out training. They were just riding, and getting wet. Obviously they like riding enough that getting wet wasn't a problem.

We racers tend think of ourselves as hard core when it comes to riding. Right now I'm not so sure.

Train watching

After Sunday’s race, I went out to ride a few more miles. Much of the route was on narrow roads that cross through farmland. The weather was great, and I passed many people out for Sunday bike rides.

At one point I came to a railroad crossing to find maybe 30 people standing there, with cameras, obviously waiting for a train to pass. This was essentially in the middle of a field somewhere near the border with the Netherlands. I figured they must be waiting for some sort of special train, so I decided to wait too (I had my camera in my back pocket).


While waiting, one guy started talking, loud enough for all to hear, about something related to the train. I couldn’t understand most of what he said, but could tell from the way he was talking that he was, shall we say, “pontificating”. He bent down, pointed to something with the track, then pointed down the track, then made sure to say from which direction the train would come.

I moved over to the other side of the track, thinking a picture would be better from there. When the gate started to come down, Herr Know-It-All made sure to tell everyone to be careful. Then he yelled for me to move my bike out of the way. Crazy, since I was no closer to the track than anyone else.

No knowledge of German was needed here. This was the sort of person you roll your eyes at, independent of any language.

Finally, the train came by. It was an old steam train, with a few passenger cars.


I rode back to where the race was. The junior race was going on. People were now telling me to stay off the race course, though I showed no intention of riding on the course while the race was on.

Before coming here, a friend had told me about this preoccupation with telling people what to do. I thought he was exaggerating, but now I am starting to wonder.

PS: when I come back to the US, please make sure I am not dressing like this. Capri pants don't work for guys, and I cannot figure out why this is common here.

Carsick in the UK

Mon - Thurs I was in the UK. My colleague Richard picked me up from Birmingham airport (which turned out to be a wise choice). I received an immediate introduction to driving in England. I'd been here once before, but don't remember the driving being like this.

Richard has been in the military, and spent some time driving Range Rovers off road (for which they are intended, he says). He's taken off-road training from Rover. Unfortunately for me, I think he missed the part where they explained the difference between on- and off-road.

Between the constant speed changes, hard braking, ever-present roundabouts, and the disorientation of driving on the left, I think I spent most of the trip with this low grade car-sickness.

I saw a number of road signs saying things like "82 fatalities in 5 years". I wasn't sure if that was supposed to be good news or cautionary. Going by the way they drive, I'm thinking it was good news.

But we did see some nice English countryside (particularly in Wales), visited Hampton Court Palace, drank some real English ale, and had some very good work meetings.



This is "Iron Bridge", which is the first iron bridge ever made (ca. 1779)



Hampton Court Palace, built by Henry VIII.



Road sign with both Welsh and English.

Settled in Oberkassel

It only took 2 days to find an apartment, then 2 weeks before I could move in. After 15 days in a very warm hotel room, I was happy to be out.

My apartment is in the Oberkassel neighborhood of Düsseldorf, which is just over the Rhein from the center of Düsseldorf (the title of this blog means "over the bridge").

There are many restaurants, cafes, shops, etc. within walking distance (even quicker by bike), and the center of Düsseldorf is reachable on foot, or by the tram.

Here are some apartment pictures:


View from the street (my kitchen window is to the left of the front door). The street is a little busy, but only from the kitchen.

Out back, it is a totally different world.



And here's the living room. Plenty of room for my bike. Unfortunately I've already had to ride on the trainer, since the weather lately has been more like Cleveland in spring.