Gaby Book 28  Balancing Trick by Maddy Bell Copyright© 2023 Madeline Bell

 
It felt a bit weird riding up the Ahrtal, something I’ve done countless times since we moved to the valley. Nothing has changed, the roads are the same, the traffic, my bike, all the same but everything just seemed slightly off, familiar yet not.

"Its gonna be weird riding without your dad around,” Mand proposed as we followed the river up through Mayschoß.
"We’ve done it before,” I pointed out.
"Yeah but not often, not since I came to Germany.”
"I guess.”
"You alright?”
"Yeah.”
"You just seem a bit distracted.”
"After the last couple of weeks, this,” I waved at our surroundings, "Is strange, guess it’ll take a couple of days to get back into the routine of the real world.”
"So you aren’t gonna swap bikes for mics then.”
"You kidding? This is much easier!”
"Oh come on, a couple of hours prancing about on a stage harder than a four hour session on a bike, pull the other one.”
"I didn’t say is was physically harder but I can do without all the travelling, sound checks, late nights, its not easy singing for a couple of hours you know.”
"Okay, you don’t have to bite my head off.”
"Soz, but I guess unless you’ve done it, I guess it might look easy. Race you to the tunnel.”

The ‘rock star’ lifestyle of the last couple of weeks hadn’t done my fitness too much harm, I have done some decent rides while I’ve been away and there was that race last week too. No, its not fitness per se that’s taken a hit, I can’t really put my finger on it but its a sort of dulling of my senses. Probably all that booze just taking the edge off.
 

"Which way back?”
"Eh?”
"Geez Bond, you’ve hardly said a thing on the way up.”
"Well I couldn’t get a word in,” I prevaricated.
"Har de har, so which way, straight down or over Ramersbach?”

I spared a look about me, boy, I really had been tuned out, we were already above Quiddelbach, we’d be passing under the Nordschleife in a matter of moments, the sound of high performance engines dopplered through the hillsides before a flash of colour surged across the bridge. It was true tho’, Mand had barely drawn breath since Altenahr, a diatribe of her life whilst I’ve been away. It wasn’t so much that I wasn’t interested, okay, who was seeing who at the English school isn’t high on my agenda of conversation topics, no I was kind of lost in my own thoughts.

"Ramersbach?” I offered.
“’kay, up the track?”

The track is an unofficial short cut that we sometimes use to miss the big junction where the two five eight and two five seven cross, its got a fairly good surface but you wouldn’t want to take a road bike through if its too wet. Today was dry though, the weather pundits were saying its the driest spring in forever, probably means we’ll have a wet summer.

"Works for me.”

I said it was rideable, I didn’t say it was the most comfortable surface to ride on but it was good practice for the Fleche I’ll be riding on Sunday with its steep climbs on cobbles. Okay, not quite the same as a dirt track at the top of a thirty K climb but it’ll have to do. The downside to using the short cut is the bit of CX you have to do to get back onto the road past the barrier at the top.

On the plus side is does avoid using the main road and we were soon on Hatzenbachstraße which takes you between the Grand Prix circuit and the Nordschleife directly into the village. Rather than the main road inside the circuit we took the lane through to Meuspath to avoid all the petrolheads going in and out of the circuit. Yeah, its a Bank Holiday so its a public track day, any one can turn up, pay the fee and drive around.

Our laney diversion cost us a bit of time but the way some of those morons drive, it was certainly safer. A loop through Döttingen put us on the four one two and we settled in for the climb over to Kempenich. Either I’ve lost form or Mand has improved a lot, by the time we reached Hohe Acht I was puffing a bit to keep level with her.

There was a bit of wind on our right shoulder as we crossed to Kempenich where it became a tailwind. Its eight or nine kilometres up to Ramersbach, a bit up and down rather than a single climb, I was more than glad that my companion seemed happy to ease off the gas a bit. The drop down to Ahrweiler is fast and twisty, especially with the wind pushing you, we got down safely before running the gauntlet of tourists in the Altstadt.
 

"Not bad, three thirty.”
"Its got to be later than that,” Mand opined.
"Not the time, the ride.”
"We’re not back yet,” my companion pointed out.
I gave a shrug, "Five minutes?”
"More like ten.”
"Still not bad with the detour at the top.”
"I guess.”

She guesses, I know so, the best I’ve ever done on this loop, without the detours, is three hours twenty five when I was really pinging last summer.

"So what do you reckon we’ll get for dinner?”
"No idea, something traditional if I know Therese.”
"Schnitzel?”
"I doubt it, might have to have a snack when we get in mind.”
"No chocolate, you’ll spoil your tea.”
"Yes mum!”
 

You’d think an hour, well closer to two would be plenty to shower, dress and walk a couple of hundred metres right? Guess again, it was ten to seven when we got back to Thesings, where the time went I couldn’t say but it might’ve been my decision to reprise Saturday’s stage outfit. Why I hear you ask, goodness knows, must’ve been the devil in me, but that meant Mand decided her jeans and sweatshirt weren’t up to scratch – well you know what its like.

I know I wore basically the same stuff on stage on Saturday but strolling through my home town in a dress that exposed as much as it covered including my latex underwear and limbs apparently covered in tattoos was a bit nerve wracking if truth be told. My hair was in the high pony, my fringe lacquered in place although my braiding skills meant I’d foregone that bit of Saturdays coiffeur. And of course my makeup ability is quite pedestrian so I’d just gone for dark lippy, lots of massy and drawn some dramatic brows on – maybe I should practice a bit more.
 

"You didn’t need to dress up,” Con stated, "Its only a family dinner.”
"I know but I just fancied making an effort.”
"And I couldn’t let her walk the streets like that alone,” Mands added.
"Pappa will have a heart attack.”
"That guy did ride his mofa into the kerb just now,” de Vreen supplied
"Shoulda been concentrating more,” I suggested as we made our way through to the apartment stairs.
"He was – on you.”
"I guess you either have it or not,” I stated airily.
"You, Gaby Bond, have it in buckets,” my BFF noted.

Herr T didn’t have a heart attack but I’m sure his wife kicked him a couple of times under the table. Clearly the presence of Erdbeer, rock chick at his dining table did something that plain old Gaby doesn’t. I guess it made me feel, I dunno, empowered in a way that felt, well empowering.

Dinner was stroganoff, flat pasta, creamy sauce and nearly as dangerous to eat as spag bol! It was well tasty, I’m sure there was alcohol in there and fresh baked garlic bread worked a treat for mopping up, yum. It certainly filled the hole left by our ride up to the Ring, I was quite sated but I’ll make room for dessert, good job this dress has a bit of stretch.

"So Gaby, is this the new you?” Therese enquired while Tomas fetched the dessert.
I gave a shrug, "I don’t think so, I just thought I’d see what it was like off stage?”
"You wore that with your band?”
"I did say moma,” Con put in.
"You said she had a short dress and boots, you didn’t mention the rest.”
"Well I didn’t see that well.”
"And the tattoo Gaby?”
"Just temporary, they wash off after a few days.”
"I like them,” Herr T mentioned returning to the table with what looked very much like a Schwarzwaldkirschetorte, Black Forest gateaux, cherries, chocolate and cream, the three c’s of mana!

"I bet your parents weren’t happy if they thought you had real tattoos,” Mrs T opined as the cake was distributed.
"They didn’t actually say very much about them, not like before when Mum thought I got one.”
"When was that?” Con asked.
"You remember, when those chokers were all the rage?”
"I had one of those,” Mand chipped in.
"Well Mum went completely ape before I could show her it was just a bit of plastic.”
"Bit of an over reaction,” Con noted.
"Tell me about it, she had me grounded until Dad intervened.”
"Some people just don’t like tattoos,” Therese mentioned.
"I thought she was going to blow big style when she saw these,” I admitted, turning my arms to better display the art I was wearing.
"Maybe she was in shock,” Mand surmised, "You know, too shocked to say anything.”
"Possibly,” I allowed.
 

The double bill of Tatort meant that it was gone ten thirty when we left the backhaus, Herr T insisting on walking us home. I’ve made the journey so many times, maybe I’ve become complacent, tonight, dressed like a goth wet dream, well I was kind of grateful. That night in Kassel, well I guess it brought home to me how vulnerable young women can be, especially late at night.
 

I hugged my cardigan a bit closer, whilst the sky above was clear and the vineyards above the town were bathed in sunlight, down in the valley there was a distinct chill in the air. Logic said that a coat would be a good idea but I didn’t want to lumber myself for the day. On the plus side, whilst I’d briefly toyed with going all rock chick for college today in the end I’d settled on a denim skirt and hose with a BlauHase t-shirt and of course the cardigan on top, pink to match my hair. I gave an involuntary shudder, come on Olaf its freezing waiting here.

My transport wasn’t actually late, for once I was running early. Without the distractions of one or other of my parents in the house and Mand departing even earlier for her train, well I found myself just killing time, something I could do more sensibly at my pick up point.

The journey down to Koblenz was, for once, unremarkable. If anything the traffic on the autobahn was lighter than usual, even the usual stop go into the city centre seemed less frenetic.

"We meeting later?” Max asked as we walked from Olaf’’s work place towards our respective colleges across the Stadtmitte.
"Expect so, I’ll send you an SMS lunchtime.”
“’kay, see you later.”
"Come here,” I pulled him down for a kiss, as long kiss.
"Get a room you two,” Freddy complained.
"Your only jealous,” Max retorted.
"If you say so, come on, we’ll be late.”
"Go on, speak later,” I told my boyfriend before snatching a last peck on his cheek.

I hurried towards the college, if I’m lucky I can grab a coffee before I go into this mornings tutorial.
 

"Gaby! A word?” Lisbet hinted as I gathered my stuff, preoccupied with thoughts of lunch.
"Er sure, coffee?”

It’s almost a ritual between us now, since I sorted her out with some decent coffee and fixed her machine, I get coffee that’s drinkable rather than the sludge available in the common room.

"So,” my senior lecturer started once we were settled in her office with cups of hot java, "How was life as a rock star?”
I blew on my coffee, "Hardly a star.”
"Not what I’ve been hearing.”
Ignoring her comment I went on, "It was okay I guess, hard work that’s for sure.”
"I thought you just swanned up and sang.”

The glint in her eye suggested she was goading me.

Of course, I bit, "If only! Travelling every day, setting up, soundchecks, day after day.”
"Don’t you have lackeys for all that?”
"Not on our budget, some of the venues have stage hands but its mostly down to the band.”
"So come on, you haven’t answered my question, what was it like?”
"Truth? I wouldn’t want to do it full time but it was good fun I guess.”
"You won’t be hanging up your wheels and abandoning us then?”
"You don’t get rid of me that easily.”
"I see you got tattoos?”
"They're not real,” I reassured her.
"I thought perhaps not,” she scribbled something on a note pad, "That sort of thing is a bit taboo in hospitality, especially in management.”
"Can’t see as it affects peoples work, I’ve seen plenty of cooks and wait staff with tattoos, well some.”
"Me too but they tend to not get positions in management and front of house, its all to do with image, just like your band. That’s especially true in corporate, its not the wholesome clean cut image they want to project, short order cook out of sight, fine, maitre d, not going to happen.”
"Its the twenty first century, you’d think we’d got past that sort of thinking, I thought we got jobs on merit not looks these days.”
"You can legislate for equality all you like and in some arenas it works, others, well we might be breaking gender bias but business image, being at the edge of societal norms may have personal costs beyond hair dye prices.”
"So if everyone had tattoos or green hair, they’d be acceptable?”
"It would be ‘normal’ so customers would find it strange if they were excluded.” Lisbet stated.
"I guess you can have tats somewhere you can hide them for work.”
"And many people do, I do see a change in attitudes in the industry but I would caution anyone to think carefully about getting tattoos or even piercings if they want to do well in this business.”
"I’ve got quite enough piercings thank you,” I told her, yeah and not a one at my own instigation.
"Having said all that, I’m not so keen on the cartoons but the flowers do look really good on you.”
"Er thanks, I’m sort of getting used to the look but I’ve got no intention of making any of it permanent.”

We talked for about an hour all told, about the tour in more general terms, my observations of our various accommodations and so on, it wasn’t officially a tutorial but I found it quite useful.

"Well I’ve got another class to take and you probably want to get some lunch.”

Right on cue my stomach gave a rumble.

"Er yeah,” I agreed.
"I have a little project for you.”

Ot oh!

"Which is?”
"I’d like you to pick out say half a dozen of the hotels you stayed in on the tour and imagine you are from corporate, do a short report on your impressions, what was good, bad, the staff, décor, maintenance. You up for that?”
"I guess.”
"Next Monday? I’d like to use it for a group discussion, it’ll be worth some extra credits.”
"In that case, definitely.”
 

I nibbled at my sandwich, frikadel with salad, not my favourite but it was either that or egg mayo which was all that was left at the student cafe when I got there. It was a nice day, too nice to sit inside so I made the short walk to the river front where I was now sat watching the river traffic and the trains running below the Ehrensburg on the opposite hillside. Today felt, well ordinary.

After spending two weeks chasing around Hesse, just sitting here watching the world go by was, yeah, ordinary – not that there’s anything wrong with ordinary. Around me people were following their normal routines, walking dogs, encouraging tourists to part with their money for boat trips, tacky souvenirs, ice cream. And behind me the sounds of the city, refuse carts, a siren, the hum of traffic, the clatter of construction work.

My musing was interrupted by the incessant buzzing of my handy which, by the time I located it, was a missed call from Max. Max, sugar, I was supposed to call him!
 
Maddy Bell © 19.05.2023