Auswanderer Quatsch

Flying is getting more and more ridiculous and yesterday’s flight was particularly ”gratiné”.

I flew from Nbg to Paris before Xmas with my 24.9kg checked-in suitcase and with my laptop case and photo backpack as carry-on luggages. The little Bombardier ERJ-135 was packed like hell, not a single free seat of the 50 available (I even had to put my backpack & laptop under my seat) but not a soul ever complained about the global weight of it.

Today, on the way back, I first decided to leave a couple things home after weighting my first luggage over 28kg. The second time, my luggage got down to 25.3 kg which was pretty much the best I could do so I crossed my fingers and went there full of self confidence.

The first sign of sand in my neatly oiled mechanic appeared before entering the waiting line for the check-in when I was first told that I had to perform a self check-in before proceeding to the luggage check-in. I can see the point in doing so when you don’t have any luggage but not when you have to get there anyway afterwards. I complained, pretended not to have my booking number with me and got the access to the check-in granted.

Revenge is a dish best served cold, but it did not wait that long… at the check-in, I was told that my 25.3 were too much and that I had to pay 15€/exceeding kg. Seeing my despair, the lady asked if I could not put some things aside in my backpack meaning that if I could drop down a couple kilograms it would be fine (note the logic in there, 23 or 24kg would be fine but 25kg would costs you not 1 or 2 kg extra but 4 or 5…). My backpack was already full so she finally asked if I had another bag with me in order to bend the carry-on rule using a extra “cabin luggage” (which is actually to be left outside before boarding and will be thrown in the “trunk” of the plane like the rest of it anyway… I’m still wondering about the “cabin” part of the name…). So I unpacked in the terminal and stuffed my extra backpack with lightweight-crap. You cannot take any fluids or food in your carry-on so most of the heavy stuff, like the marmalade pots and gigantic sweets packs, had to stay in the suitcase. But doing so I conscientiously got down to 20.0 kg (yep, really 20.0 the lady at the counter was amazed

But I was not there yet! I still had to go through the scary security. I know the rules now, take your shoes, belt, ring and watch off, take the laptop out of its case in a separate box and wait for the guy with the white gloves and the really bored look on his face to wave at you to go through the stupid door. But not in Paris, oh no ^^ you can keep your shoes, ring and watch, they will not even ring and nobody cares to look at the door when you proceed through it anyway. It even had to ring thrice for the girl behind me to be noticed by someone…

On the other hand, in Paris, you have to unpack your camera stuff… all of it… camera out, objectives out, flash out, chargers out, tripod out… and when you look dumb and say “Really? Since when? I didn’t get this on the way in, not more than the last 20 times I flew” to the security guy, he gets angry and replies something like “oh please don’t get me started on this subject…” but he is too happy to do it anyway and starts complaining right away on the lack of professionalism of his colleagues of the not-terminal-2G-of-CDG…

After that – beside the half-drunk, moaning sick guy reeking of wine who took my seat for a punching bag – all went fine afterwards. I must admit I really expected some crap to happen with my suitcase.

Want to know the best part? The flight was not even 2/3 full, really low cloud limit, flight conditions were perfect and we flew faster than ever (1:05, personal record)… to be honest, I am really looking forward to the first anal searches, in-airlines-night-suits-flights or the first full-narcotics “5th-element-style” travel measures ^^ it’s really becoming a flying circus!

My first post really talking about it was posted on December 23rd 2006 under the name Départ en approche (Departure approaching), but the real jump was done on the 27th with On the highway to elle (“elle” means “her” in french). What am I talking about? Simply that most of my stuff crossed the French-German border on December 27th 2006 and stayed there ever since… it was exactly 3 years ago.

When I arrived I could barely express myself in German, but with the help of MlleV, her family & friends and my colleagues it became soon possible and I forgot the nasty taste German classes left in my mouth in high-school. I must admit I think I speak better German than English now. I discovered a wonderful culture, not so far from ours but with really interesting differences that I often described here.

It’s been a thousand days and it will probably many more since I have no plans to go back. Oh International-Virus, once you get it, you cannot go back…

I don’t know if the non-French readers got this, but the french government initiated a “debate” on “National Identity”. From what I understood of it, it could be either to really try to figure out something about ourselves, to occupy the medias while the government do some crap in our back or simply to gather some votes on the extreme-right for the next election in 2012… either way it seems to be working…

In one of my daily podcasts (La revue de presse de Bruno Duvic sur france-inter vendredi 18/12/2009) I heard the following:

[...] 25 parlementaires UMP, qui signent une tribune dans Le Figaro ce matin… “L’identité nationale nous concerne tous, vivant en France, écrivent-ils, de quelque origine et de quelque sensibilité politique que l’on soit. Affirmer que ce débat est trop sensible pour qu’on l’ouvre au peuple serait se faire une bien piètre idée de la France”.

[...] 25 parliamentarians of the UMP (Nota: the party of Nicolas Sarkozy), who signed a column in Le Figaro (Nota: a famous french newspaper)… “National Identity concerns us all, living in France, they-write, whatever our origin or politic opinions. To affirm that this debate is too sensible to be opened to the people would be having a miserable idea of France”.

So I learned something important this morning: in the opinion of 25 parlementarians of the government in place, French National Identity does not concern me… great… :-/

Every year deserves its post on the Christkindlesmarkt: here was 2007 and there 2008.

You’ll have to imagine the atmosphere and scents and believe me a little. Every year, at the begining of the Advent-time, the market place of Nuremberg, borded by its Frauenkirche, is invaded by little wooden tents with red-white covers (colors of Franconia, the sub-region of Bavaria where Nuremberg is located). On friday before the first advent weekend exactly, the Christkind will appear on the balcony of the Frauenkirche and call all the kids of the world in to come and prepare themselved for Christmas (if you can read German, have a look at the post I wrote in 2007 where I quoted the whole invitation speech ; it’s worth it). All those little tents will stay there until christmas and be visited by over 2 million happy xmas-friends.

I must say I don’t know what all the tourists look for when they come here. Most of the shops are just selling xmas deco that you can now find pretty much everywhere. But for all the adults who used to come here as kids and kids nowadays, it seems to be pure heaven. Scents of grilled sausages mixed with and cinamoon, fruit-breads and sweets, not to forget the Glühwein (cooked wine with spices) fumes. I must admit, even if xmas did not really used to sound, smell, taste or look like that for me it’s a really pleasant place to go to… and that must be what people search for.

So that’s a common place to be in December. Colleagues and friends meet over a Mug Glühwein, families (at best with kids and babby buggies in the crowd) over a few roasted almonds and whomever over a “3 im Weckla” (3 finger-like sausages typical of Nuremberg in a little piece of bread).

As a real Nürnberger, I met old colleagues last week with whom I worked really hard on trying all the different sorts of Glühwein (and Feuerzangenbowle of course) that there is. We met again, with MlleV’s friends this time, on saturday. When the weather was barely over -15°C and if the Glühwein was enough to raise our global body temperature (and lower our mental capacities of course) it did not go as far as the fingers or toes. That was freaking cold so to say.

On the way back (actually on the way in… but it did not go well with my storyline ) we came by the Albrecht Dürer Platz (he was the most famous painter of the city in the 16th century), place that must be one of the oldest-looking places in town and can become a photography wonder on times like those…

I woke up on sunday with a strange feeling in the belly and a nasty hangover… damn Glühwein. After oversleeping a good 3 hours and thus missing the family brunch by MlleVs I finally decided to get past the 0°C and go out for a walk anyway. I walked alone for an hour and a half, sometime listening to France-Inter (“la panique au Mangin Palace”), sometime just enjoying the silence of winter.

Even Though the sun was shining (most of the time), I had a hard time taking pictures because… well… by 0°C you don’t want to take 5 shots of each subject anymore but instead shoot-and-forget and put your hands back where they belong i.e. somewhere warm. I managed to get a couple nice shots for you anyway.

A small grocercy garden downtown, a colorful patch among the buildings in summer but just a deserted square in winter.

Deserted playground in our block, nobody will be rocking before a while…

Going down behind the castle, the sun is getting low…