Frank's prediction was born out but it worked to our favour. A Lufthansa manager type arrived at check in and once the ticket stuff was done he escorted us, now sans bikes and cases, through security and immigration to the 'Lufthansa Suite'. While the others enjoyed the facilities of the First Class lounge, Paul and myself did the whole medal waving thing for the corporate photographer.

Bit of a pain but they were transporting us for free, in First Class, so I guess this counts as payment. On our own, together, with a couple of immaculately turned out air hostess types, you name it we did it. Another chap then did a sort of interview for their in flight magazine, I doubt that I'll ever see that, regular flier that I am!

I sank into one of the comfy chairs next to Tal, “Bleh!”
“The cost of fame,” my team mate smirked.
“Its alright for you, sat here drinking coffee.”
“You won't want this then,” Iz suggested arriving with a steaming cup of caffeine infused goodness.
“Never said that,” I told her, “Any of those Lotus biscuit things?”
“These,” she grinned digging a couple of packs of said biscuits from her pocket.
“Cheers Iz, some people know how to look after Weltmeisterin.”
Tal snorted, “Just hope you can get through the doors.”

I poked my tongue out at her, yeah very adult I know.

 
Our flight was called and once again we were given the VIP treatment, none of the tedious queing in departures for Ersten Klasse, nope another Lufthansa employee escorted not just our Federation group but the other first class passengers too, directly to the walkway. By the time they started loading the hoi polloi we were already, if not in our seats, at them. It was already effectively dark outside so my window seat gave no distraction for now, I reckon sleep will be high on the agenda.

Of course, its a long flight, and in this direction, on paper its a fourteen hour stint but of course a big chunk of that is regaining the time difference as we go east through the time zones. On the plus side, tomorrow will feel short, we are due into Frankfurt about one CET which would be, I dunno, six in the morning here in Canada. Talk about confusing, maybe thats why people try to travel east on their way around the globe, it lessens fatigue if you do it right.

I woke to the smell of fresh coffee but also the unmistakable aromas of a cooked breakfast.

“Wondered how long it'd be,” Tal smirked.
“Time is it?”
“No idea, I'm still on Kanada time, suns up though.”

I slid the window blind up and squinted outside, well of course, up here its always white clouds below and blue skies as far as the eye can see.

“I need a wee,” I announced, undoing my seatbelt.
“Don't be too long or you'll miss breakfast,” my team mate teased.

I returned to my seat just ahead of breakfast, refreshed and somewhat more alert, I took the opportunity to have a quick wash and tidy up, nothing worse than facing the day looking like you've just woken up. Okay, I have but that's not the point, what if Angela Merkel is waiting when we get off the plane? I'd certainly never hear the end of it from Mum or Gran for that matter.

They certainly look after you in first, real cups for the fresh coffee, proper china plates for the food which turned out to be a sort of omelette with a couple of those tiny breakfast frankfurter things. There was a slightly soggy croissant, a glass of orange juice and a tub of yoghurt too, okay it wasn't a huge amount but it was quite passable. Especially when the Hostess came round with more coffee, hmm, I could do breakfast that i've not made every day – in my dreams.

“So you going straight back to HamburgTal?”
“Not sure, Dad drove me down, we didn't really sort out getting home.”
“Perhaps they're trying to tell you something,” I teased, “What 'bout you Iz?”
“S-bahn to Frankfurt, then there's a direct train to Regensburg, dad'll pick me up from there.”
“Thought you lived in Munich?”
“I wish, Wenzenbach is miles from anywhere.”
“But it is in Bavaria?”
“Yeah,” she agreed.
“At least I got that bit right.”
“You live up Bonn way right?”
“Yeah, few K away but close enough.”
“So you getting picked up?”
“I hope so, i've got two bike boxes and my case.”
“Don't forget the Mooses,” Tal added.
“You need a truck to yourself,” Izzy opined.
“Didn't you see the Hymer,” Tal chortled.
“Its not just for me,” I stated in my defence.
Frank appeared at the end of the row, “Everyone okay?”
“Better for being fed,” I offered.
“I really don't know where you put it Bond,” he mentioned with a shake of the head, “I've spoken to the lads already, there's a fair chance we'll have a welcoming committee in Frankfurt, I know they aren't exactly fashionable but can you wear your tracksuit tops when we land please.”
“Reckon we can manage that,” Tal advised.
“You think there'll be someone important there?” I enquired, thoughts of meeting Chancellor Merkel at the forefront of my mind.
“Probably not, but I would expect some press, there's an option to give a press conference, we'll play that by ear.”
“Press conference?”
“Well apparently Bond, your exploits have garnered some interest at home.”
“Looks like you're famous Gab,” Tal suggested.
“Can I get your signature,” Iz hammed.
“I'll leave you to it,” Frank told us before slipping away.

 
“You really think they'll want a press conference?” I asked the others.
“Frank's probably just winding you up,” Tal told me.
“Yeah,” Izzy added, “After all, who'd want anything to do with a double Weltmeisterin?”

Sugar, what'll I say? Maybe I should write a speech.

The others started a daft conversation, you know the kind of thing, some sort of suggestion by one, a more ludicrous one from the other, back and forth getting ever more silly. I left them to it, looking out of the window my own thoughts drifted to just as silly speculation of how it will go down at the airport.

Of course you have to start at the top, the Chancellor but maybe I'm not that important, perhaps the Minister for Sport? There again perhaps I'm still thinking too big, it'll probably be someone from the State legislature, do they even have a sports minister, they must do. Nah, it'll just be someone from the Federation, probably some office bod, the President will likely be in Canada as we speak with the senior team.

 
“Gab?” Iz called over.
“I've seen that look before,” Tal suggested, “She'll be dreaming of lover boy.”
“Was not.”
“Bet you were.”

Well okay, perhaps I did get that far down the list of potential greeters but only briefly.

“So what's up Iz?”
“Lunch menu,” she passed a card over to me.
“We get a choice?”
“Dur,” Tal started, “We did on the way out.”
“A lot's happened since then,” I mentioned.

There wasn't exactly a lot of choice, Chicken Korma, chargrilled chicken salad or the vegetarian option, a plain salad. Much as the salads sounded tempting I think it'll have to be the Korma, I marked my card and passed it back over to Izzy.

 
Fifteen minutes later and lunch was served, the mild curry came with slightly annoyed rice and a mini Naan. Not only that but being sort of in Germany there was one of those little bottles of wine – white to go with the chicken but it was gratefully received anyhow. Cheers Lufthansa.

“Wish i'd gone for that,” Tal opined.
“You didn't have to have salad,” I pointed out.
“Some of us do have to watch our weight.”
“Since when? Didn't stop you eating pizza the other day.”
“Sort of rode that off on Sunday.”
“You on a diet too Iz?”
“Nah, I'm just not keen on spicy food, gives me heartburn.”
“This is hardly spicy,” I pointed out.
“A toast,” Tal proposed, “To us!”
“To us,” we chorused, clinking our glasses together.

 
The lunch debris was barely cleared away before the pilot announced the start of our descent and approach into Frankfurt.

'We've made good time ladies and gentlemen so we will touchdown approximately thirty minutes early. Local time is now twelve oh five, the weather on the ground is currently fifteen degrees with a fine drizzle. On behalf of myself and all the crew, thank you for flying with Lufthansa, we hope to see you again soon.'

Well thats put the kibosh on the whole welcome thing, no gracefully descending the aircraft steps waving to the assembled masses. Who am I kidding, that was never happening anyway was it – maybe in my dreams but never in reality.

 
The landing was textbook, there was a bit of turbulence on the approach as we descended through the cloud that had been hiding any view of the ground below. Then it was the seemingly endless taxiing from the runway to the terminal – most planes here at Frankfurt don't actually get near the buildings, the passengers bused to and from the terminal. However, the big birds doing long haul do and after trundling between the parked aircraft on the infield the engines finally powered down and as is usual, we all started preparing to disembark.

Of course, its a bit less harried in First, by the time we'd donned tracky tops and collected our stuff together Annika was with us to act as chaperone through the airport.

“Try to keep together girls, we'll meet up with the others at luggage reclaim.”
“Might need the facilities before then.”
“Yeah, especially if theres a big queue at passport control,” Iz agreed.
“We can stop on the way,” Annika told us.

Unlike the VIP treatment in Toronto, this side of the Atlantic it was more of a free for all. We soon joined the other passengers on the seemingly endless walk through the corridors to finally come up to the back of the immigration queue. There were some handy facilities, who knows, maybe the queue will be shorter when we emerge?

 
We shuffled forward, at least the EU line was moving faster than the Auslander queue. I waited patiently for my turn, smiled at the officer as I handed over my passport and waited and waited as he looked at his screen. What's wrong, will I be dragged off for questioning or something?

“Welcome home Miss Bond."

Phew, i know theres nothing amiss but you always have that slight nagging doubt right? Okay, all my paperwork is fully legit these days, its got my name, my actual gender and my picture, not like when i've ended up travelling on my sister's passport, that really was dodgy! Anyhow I took back my passport and passed into Germany proper.

“Problem?” Iz enquired when I caught up to the others.
“Nope, just the computer taking its time.”
“Yeah, there's probably loads of criminals called Gaby Bond,” Tal chuckled.
“The name's Bond, Gabrielle Bond, licensed to race,” I stated in my best Sean Connery.
“Now that,” Annika grinned, “Really is criminal. Come on, lets go find the bags.”

At least the reclaim was only a few metres further on, it was easy to find the right belt, Frank and the lads were already there waiting.

“About time,” Paul opined.
“Is the luggage here yet?” Tal asked.
“Not yet, screen reckons five minutes.”
“Well we're in plenty of time then,” she stated.
 
Maddy Bell © 18.11.2018

It was actually closer to ten before the belt started up and the first bags pushed their way into view. Why is it that some people have to stand right next to the belt blocking everyone else from getting their bags? I spotted my bag coming out but then had to barge through the belt blockers to drag it free of the other luggage.

That would've been okay but the inertia had me stumbling backwards, tripping over another passengers pile of hand luggage which deposited me onto the floor. Great and i've got a skirt on too. I quickly scrambled to my feet, I don't think anyone saw, stupid place to leave bags.

I retreated away from the baying crowds, one bit of luggage collected, two more to go.
 
It was fully fifteen minutes later before my two bike boxes and the suitcase were balanced on a trolley.

“You alright with that Gaby?” Frank asked.
“As long as there's not any corners.”
“I can push it for you,” he offered.
“I'm fine, really,” I stubbornly replied.
“Come on then, the others are a bit ahead of us.”

I pushed down on the handle and with a bit of a heave got the trolley moving. Hmm, maybe I was a bit hasty insisting on pushing, its not the weight so much as its awkward and I can barely see over my case. Somehow I managed to not run anyone down on the way through customs, I'm sure the officials were laughing at my antics as I slalomed through.

“Bugger!” Frank exclaimed.

I hit the brake but even so nearly ran the boss over as momentum carried the laden trolley forward.

“What's up?” I queried poking my head around my case.
“Wait here a minute.”
'There she is!'
'Gaby, over here!'

I peered past my bags again, looks like there is a welcoming committee of sorts, lots of cameras at least. Frank came back.

“The airport people want us to use the press room, you okay with a quick Q and A?”
“I guess.”
 
And so ten minutes later I found myself sat behind a table with Paul and Frank in the airport's press room, I had managed a quick pit stop for some mascara and hair tidy, slung my gongs around my neck, good to go. I looked out over the assembled media types, okay there's not hundreds of them but I, we have attracted a reasonable showing. The rest of our party were stood at the back of the room along with what I guess are some parents including my own to whom I gave a quick wave.

Frank took control of things, I don't suppose he's any more used to this stuff than me when it comes to it but he is at least older. Things got underway, introductions made and the questions started.

“Gaby, did you expect to win when you left?”
I gathered my thoughts before replying, “Expect, no. Obviously I thought i'd be in with a chance of a podium for the time trial but the road race, well there are too many variables, it all comes down to luck on the day.”
“Paul, were you inspired by Gaby's win?”
“Not really, we didn't know the girls result, Gaby's right about luck, I never thought i'd podium, John was our podium hope, when the crash happened I was clear of the carnage and just took my chance.”

There was more in this sort of vein, but my fifteen minutes of fame were quickly drawing to a close.

“So what's next then Gaby?”
“Now, well get home, do the washing and get ready for college tomorrow.”

This resulted in a few smiles and chuckles.

“I meant on the bike Gaby,” the hack put in.
“Oh right,” it was an easy mistake to make, “Well I'll probably do a bit of cross this winter, then I guess I'll be aiming to retain my National titles and maybe have another crack at the Worlds.”
“What about Beijing, the Olympics?” another reporter asked.
“Well it would be nice but I only step up to the seniors a few months before hand, I'm sure there are plenty of more deserving riders for those spots.”
“But you'd go if selected?”
“Wouldn't you? Of course I would, what greater honour is there for any sports person, China would be nice but I guess London in 2012 is more realistic, I'll have more experience and I think conditions will suit me well.”
Frank spoke up at this point, “Thank you ladies, gentlemen, its been a long trip and we're all tired so if we can wrap up now?”
 
Well the talking was over but we then did another five minutes mugging for the cameras before we were able to return to the real world – well as real as an airport facility goes. I was soon enveloped by Mum and Dad, I'm glad the cameras are gone, I couldn't stop a few tears rolling down my cheeks. Eventually though I was released, time to get a grip.

“Frank,” Dad greeted, “Thanks for looking after our girl.”
“A pleasure Dave, sorry you couldn't be there.”
“Maybe it was for the best, anyway we should get this pair home.”
“You're taking Talia? I was a bit concerned about getting her home.”
“She'll stay at ours tonight then Jen's gonna drive her up tomorrow.”
“Good, good, I'll give you a call before the weekend about next season, see you soon girls.”
“Bye Frank.”

A quick round of farewells, Izzy was actually going into Frankfurt with Annika, we'd already exchanged phone numbers so we'd talk later. Dad took charge of my trolley and led the way out of the terminal, he'd borrowed the team minibus which was too big for the car parks so it was a relatively short walk out to the 'bus' pick up area. It took a bit of effort to get three bike boxes inside but eventually we were sorted and we started the journey back to the Ahrtal.
 
After the reception at the airport I was half expecting a welcoming committee when we got back home, it was a bit of a disappointment really when we drove into our road to find no one waiting. Definitely a reality check. The house was empty of course, Mand wasn't home from Bonn and my sister was of course off with Boris sorting out University stuff – if you believe that. Oh well, like I said before, fifteen minutes of fame.

The homecoming wasn't a total non event, there was a pile of cards waiting for me and when I remembered to actually switch the phone on, about twenty texts each beeped their newly arrived presence. It was sort of strange being home, not like a normal race trip, this time i'd been away on my own, no Dad, no Angels, it has only been me absent.

“What's for dinner?” I enquired after the unpack and a shower.
“Best speak to your Dad I think he was planning on going out to eat.”
“Where is he?”
“Where do you think?” Mum asked.
“Garage,” I allowed.
 
You'd think he'd get tired of sorting out bikes but no, first thing he does when we get home is check them out. He'll no doubt have them all cleaned and serviced before we eat, guess it makes sense, i'd leave it to just before I needed them. I padded down into the bike cavern.

“What's up?”
“Just sorting your wheels out, what the hell did you hit?”
“There was a level crossing, must've been an edge I guess.”
“Sure made a job of the tubes,” he mentioned pointing over to the work bench.

I picked up one of the discarded tubes, the dual slits were impressive, I'm guessing some sort of pinch puncture, there's no way it was going to see life on a bike again.

“Mum said we're going out to eat?” I hinted.
“Unless you fancy cooking?”
“Not really.”
“I was thinking the Anker?”
“Works for me.”
“I'll finish up with this then, Manda home?”
“Think so,” well I heard somone talking to Tali on the way downstairs.
Dad checked the time, “Okay half an hour then.
“I'll go rouse the troops.”
 
If you recall, Der Anker is over the river from the kiosk up in Altenahr, right next to the river, a fairly traditional menu in a very traditional setting – all dark wood and hunting trophies. Okay so its not to everyones taste but personally I find it reassuring that there are these places, back in England they so often get gutted and replaced by either bland or over decorated kitsche. Der Anker also holds a special place for me as it was my first exposure to real Germany when we came over to see Mum race, a year before we moved here.

“Eating out!” I yelled on my way up to the eyrie.
Mand's head appeared around her door, “Where?”
“Anker.”
“Cool.”

I continued into my room and headed to the wardrobe, now what to wear? Okay, its not a major dress up job but its not Maccy D's either, a certain standard is expected – well by Mum anyway. smart casual is the way, which translated to the contents of my cupboard means a dress. Nothing fancy or revealing, I settled on a printed cord pinnafore over a short sleeved roll neck, smart and comfortable, a pair of tights providing a bit of extra warmth.

When I got back down the troops were gathered, Tal in borrowed blouse and cullottes, Mand opting for a pretty slip dress with a sort of lacy bolero thing. Mum was suitably smart in full cut trousers and blouse, Dad looking equally smart in typical German fashion, collarless jacket over shirt and tan slacks. Of course, the whole illusion was destroyed somewhat by our steed, the be-stickered A Klasse – well you can't have everything.

“So, whats it to be champ?” Dad enquired.
I flicked the menu pages back and forth, “Well either the Wildbraten or Leberknödel.”
“Well make your mind up, Hans is on his way back over.”
“Yes Dad,” I sighed, “Liver.”

“Ready?”

I nearly jumped out of my skin at the voice behind me, how does he do that?

“I think so,” Dad told him, “I'll have the lamb, can I get boiled taters with that please.”

The others placed their orders, trout for Mum and Tal, mixed grill for Mand.

“And for Gaby?”
“Can I get the Leberknödel please.”
“Okay, we okay for drinks?”
“I think so, for now,” Dad told our waiter.
 
“Its on my bucket list,” Mand sighed.
“Bucket list?” Tal queried.
“You know, stuff I want to do, places to go,” Mand informed her.
“Ah!”

Me and Tal had just regaled everyone with our visit to Niagra Falls – was that only yesterday? Feels like ages ago.

“I think we were near there a couple of years ago,” Mum suggested, “New York state at least.”
“And you didn't go to the falls?” Mand asked.
Mum shrugged, “There's not often time for sightseeing.”
“Maybe it should be a compulsory stage in the races,” Tal joked, “Instead of a prologue you have to go and do the tourist stuff then answer questions on what you see to get time bonus's.”
“Bit like orienteering,” I quipped.

Dad just shook his head.

“Not sure that'd go down too well,” Mum mentioned.
“Well on that note,” Dad started, “Its getting late and some of you have places to be in the morning.”
“Uh,” I moaned, “College.”
“You don't have to go,” Mum opined, “But don't expect me and your Dad to support you sat on your bum doing nothing.”

Spell it out for me why don't you.

“Guess i'd better go then, you want that mint Dad?”
 
Maddy Bell © 21.11.2018

The alarm roused me far too early but not so early that i've got time to waste before heading out for the Taxi a la Olaf – which reminds me, I need to have words with Max about that. I didn't so much leap from the comfort of my duvet as slither, I guess you can expect a bit of morning chill this time of year but it still comes as a surprise. Oh well, guess i'd best get used it, I've signed up for two years at the Business School.

Bathroom, sort hair – I can do more finesse in the car, leggings, jumper – where are those boots? Bed to kitchen fifteen minutes, not too bad I guess. Coffee on, cheese and ham on rye as they say across the pond, carton of fermented flavoured dairy product, all set. I poured a mug of coffee and sank into a chair to eat – another ten minutes gone, at this rate I'm gonna have to get up even earlier!

“You still here?” Mum greeted.
“Just finishing, there's coffee in the pot.”
“Guessing no Brötchen though?”
“The bakery opens in ten minutes,” I suggested as I cleard my debris.
“Hmmph,” she didn't sound too chuffed at the intimation, “You coming back with Max?”
“Dunno yet.”
“Well let your Dad know.”
“Uh huh,” I allowed as I pulled on my boots, “You not back tonight?”
“Tomorrow evening, i've got some shop to visit in the morning.”
“Real work eh?”
“Cheeky!”
“Well I'm off, say hi to Tali's rents for me, tschussie.”
“I will and take care.” she pulled me into a quick hug before I escaped into the early morning greyness.
 
I gave Con's dad a wave as I passed the bakery, it seems a bit weird not going in to meet the others before school. I hurried on, out to the main road, over the crossing and then check my Handy for messages. Look I'm not that shallow but I sent one to Max over brekky confirming I was wanting transport this morning, no reply so I'm guessing its okay.

I'd barely got the phone back in my bag before Olaf pulled up.

“Sorry we're late,” Freddy told me as I climbed in, “We had to get fuel,”
“Morning everyone, 's no problem,” well I'm not going to admit to not exactly being punctual myself am I?
“Buckle up kids,” Olaf stated before pulling out into the early morning traffic.

Max leant over and gave me a smacker square on the lips.

“What's that for?” I asked when he put me down, “Not that I don't appreciate it.”
“Can't I add my congratulations to the Weltmeisterin, especially as she's my girl friend?”
“Hmm, don't I get another one, I did win two gongs you know!”
“You tell him Gab,” Freddy mentioned from up front Max.
“I guess I'll not get any peace if I don't,” the lunk hammed, “So where is this championista?”

Well its been a week, I took the initiative and pulled the Baron in waiting into a liplock that lasted onto the southbound autobahn.
 
Yes it might only be a week but its a week i've not spent getting used to my new seat of learning and of course my fellow students. It's a good job I had a bit of time to spare, I got myself lost twice on the way to the lecture theatre but finally found a seat just ahead of Lisbet Olafsdottir's arrival and door shutting. Well I'm here, just how much have I missed?

Well of course Lisbet knew about my Canadian sojourne, I probably should've been prepared but no, I was taken by surprise when she made my success part of her pre lecture pre-amble, its happened before of course but it never fails to cause a blush fest! You know what its like, I just want to be another student but picking me out just points the finger to suggest I'm not one of the gang.

“Sorry to drop that on you Gaby,” Lisbet told me as I collected a copy of the previous week's notes from her.
“I suppose I need to get used to it, not get embarrassed so easily.”
“You shouldn't be embarrassed by success Gaby, whether its on the sports field , business or academia you should be proud of your achievements.”
“I am, its just that I don't want to come over as a big head, nobody likes a braggard do they?”
“I hardly think you're a braggard Miss Bond, in fact I want to hear more from you in class. You have more life experience than the rest of your classmates put together, I'm not bothered if its not directly 'business' related if it has some relevance to the discussion. I'm sure your racing is much more involved than just turning up and riding, there will be months of training and planning, logistics, equipment choices – lots of decisions to give you a crack at the win. Its the same in business, the rewards may not be so obvious but to be a success you need the exact same elements.”
“I guess.”
“I know so.”
“I er better get on,” I mumbled.
“Tomorrow Gaby.”
 
I really will have to get myself organised better, we used to get our lunch from Thesing's when we met each morning, they aren't even open when I go past now. I waited my turn at the riverside kiosk, really do need to sort myself, this could get expensive, sandwich, mediocre coffee and maybe a muffin, not much change from a ten. Not only that but coming out won't exactly be fun when the weather's grot.

A few minutes later I was back in the atrium nibbling at my mozzarella and tomato, reading through Lisbet's course notes when my Handy started its SMS vibration thing. Probably Telekom telling me I need to top up. Wonder who that is, I fished out the now silent phone a flicked it open.

'ring me asao, dad'

Guess he means asap, wonder what's so urgent he wants me to call? I hit the speed dial and returned to my notes while I waited for the connection to be made. Of course it went straight to voice!

“Hi Dad, just me returning your call, will try again later,” well he might want me to pick something up before I go home.
“Gab, you still there?”
“Oh hi Dad, wassup?”
“What time do you finish?”
“Half two ish, i've only got accounts after lunch, why?”
“I'll pick you up outside then.”
“Okay, but why?” I repeated.
“You, young lady, will be on the telly tonight.”
“Telly?”
“Uh huh, the Rhein Abend people want you to do an interview for them, at the studio up in Bonn.”
“Studio?”
“You don't have to repeat everything I say kiddo.”
“But, but....”
“I'll pick you up, bring you home so you can shower and change then I'll take you up to Bonn.”
“But why?”
“Kiddo, make the most of it, fame doesn't last for long in the eyes of the media. I'll see you at two thirty.”
“Er right, ciao.”

I closed my Handy, me, on TV, the studio no less. Wow. Bum, i've not got anything to wear.
 
“Max?”
“Heya, I'm not late am I?”
“Its only half twelve dumbo, no, look I'm gonna have to cancel, Dad's picking me up.”
“Oh,” his voice dropped, “What about me? Don't I get a lift?”
“Its not like that, I'm gonna be on Rhein Abend tonight, we're going straight up from here,” I fibbed. Well we're only stopping off for me to get changed.
“The lives of the rich and famous,” he grunted.
“Hardly, look I'll ring later, i've got to get to class.”
“Whatever.”

He didn't sound very chuffed, but its hardly my fault, its not like he finishes at the same time or anything, I was gonna have to kill some time to go home with him.
 
Of course, the result of both conversations was that my mind was elsewhere all through accountancy class, just as well Herr Biscoff didn't pick on me today. I'm not usually the fastest out of class but for once I was out like a shot. I nearly went arse over on the steps down to the where Dad was waiting in Mum's A Klasse.

“Are we ever gonna have a decent car again?” I queried as we started to navigate the afternoon traffic, “This is a bit embarrasing.”
“Car snob now eh?”
“Course not but no one else has to go round in a car plastered with advertising.”
“Its part of your Mum's sponsorship package.”
“I know but it doesn't mean we have to go everywhere in it.”
“We don't.”
“The camper is hardly much better.”
“Its a tool kiddo, it doesn't have to be pretty.”
“I guess.”
“What's brought this on?”
“Eh?”
“Why the sudden interest in motorised transport?”
“What if the telly people see it?”
“So what if they do, not all famous people have Porsche's or BMW's you know.”
“I know.”
“Gab love, they want to talk to you about your racing, they aren't interested in the family transport.”

He paused as he concentrated in getting us through the congested Lohr Platz junction before going on, “Talking of motorised transport, your Mother suggested we get you a Mofa, as your Weihnachts gift.”
“Really? I thought you were against me having one?”
“Well I can't say as I'm exactly keen but as your Mum pointed out, we got your sister one and it would give you a bit more independence.”
“Less Dad's taxi you mean.”
“I won't say that I haven't considered that aspect, so what do you think?”

What do I think? To be honest I thought they'd forgotten all about the idea and other stuff has usurped it in my top ten of priorities. It would certainly make me less dependent on parental transport, not just mine but my friends too. Yeah I know I can use the Schauff but its hardly the same is it?

“Yes please!”
“You'll have to get some training and you'll be responsible for fuel and making sure its kept in good order.”
“Uh huh,” I allowed.
“There won't be anything else at Christmas,” he warned.
“Guess I can live with that,” I grinned.
“I'll talk some more with your Mother then.”
“Just promise you won't get me a pink helmet?”
“No pink helmet, I guess we can manage that,” Dad agreed.

Lets face it, that really would be taking the Michael.
 
The rest of the drive back up to Dernau in contemplative mood, the Mofa news certainly distracted me from what's coming up this evening. We were pulling up in the drive before I went into meltdown, what am I going to wear for the telly?

“Quick as kiddo,” Dad requested.

It’s alright for him, he hasn't got to decide how to dress for fifteen minutes of fame – even if it is only the local TV station.
 
Maddy Bell © 23.11.2018

“Coming up soon on tonights programme, Martin visits the Space museum at Wahnheide but before that I'll be speaking with the Rheinland's own Superwoman, newly crowned double cycling Weltmeisterin, Gaby Bond. But first Maria Kniesse with 'Liebe ihr Freund'”.

“Okay kiddo?” Dad asked for the umpteenth time.
I fiddled with my dress, its the telly okay, “Not really.”
“You'll be fine.”

To be honest, I'm nervous as hell, yes i've done interviews for the idiot box before but they've always been un-rehearsed, informal if you like. This evening though I'm in the 'Rhein Abend' studio in Bonn on the actual sofa next to Gertie Schmidt! You bet I'm nervous.

One of the floor managers came over, “If you can come over please.”
“Good luck,” Dad told me as I trailed behind the TV person.

Rhein Abend? Well its our regional evening magazine programme, you know the sort of thing, local news, human interest stories, a bit of entertainment, sometimes in the studio, sometimes outside broadcasts. back in Warsop we had 'Look North' with Harry Gration, on RTL we have Gertie Schmidt. I have met her before but this really is freaking me out.

Maria was still warbling away across the studio as I sat myself down, a technician type fixed me up with one of those clip on microphones, Gertie smiled over.

“Okay Gaby?”
“Nervous,” I admitted.
“You'll be okay, couple of deep breaths and you'll be fine. I'll do a bit to camera then we'll run the VT before we do the interview.”
“Okay.”

Another floor manager came over as Ms Kniesse launched into the last verse of the distinctly middle of the road musical rendition.

He did that thing with his fingers to count Gertie in, “And five, four, three, two, one aaand live.”

Gertie was clapping now, I joined in by reflex, well I guess its only polite.

“Thank you Maria, you can catch Maria tomorrow night at Neuweid Rathaus. Now, some of you may remember our next guest from last year when she returned from the cycling championships in Denmark with two medals, one bronze, the other gold. Since then she has retained her National Jungere League title, impressed in races across Europe and just a few weeks ago took both the time trial and road race titles at the national championships in Bavaria.
That would be enough for most senior sports people, let alone a college student but last weekend, in Ontario, Kanada she not only contested both races for the National team but took first place in both disciplines.”

As she finished the monitor in front of me went from a head and shoulders of Gertie to what I'm guessing is the official UCI tape of the Canadian events. I couldn't see it that well but I was fascinated as i've not actually seen it before. Well TT's are not exactly great spectator sport, that bit was pretty much the start, the mid distance time check and my approach to the finish before cutting to the presentation, tops thirty seconds.
It segued straight into the road race, a bit more action this time, Tal and Izzy escaping, they even caught my puncture fest before taking in a very much edited last five kilometres. Then it showed my final move, the sprint for the line, in real time and this time a longer segment of the presentation. Well of course they had to show me blubbing as the flags were raised, talk about embarrasing.
 
I was almost caught out as the shot changed to a wide of the two of us in the studio.

“And here she is, our very own Weltmeisterin, Gaby Bond!” there was a bit of in studio clapping before Gertie continued, “So Gaby, you were a bit emotional at the end there.”
“Just a little, it was a hard race, we had a team tactic we only just pulled off and then at the finish, well I wasn't sure whether i'd won or not.”
“It certainly looked close,” Gertie opined.
“Half a wheel,” I advised.
“So little after how far?”
“Eighty five kilometres.”
“Is that usual, to be so close after that distance?”
“At this level it happens quite a lot, you have to be a Jack of all trades.”
“Isn't it dangerous, I understand there was a bad crash at the end of the boys race?”
“Yes, a few broken bones and some lost skin, nothing too serious.”
“So you have had crashes?”
“A few,” I admitted, “It does happen but not so often, its part of the game and if you have good skills it happens less.”
“But you have a good teacher,” Gertie suggested then to the camera went on, “For those who aren't cycle race fans, Gaby comes from a line of cycling royalty, her mother is Apollinaris professional and double Weltmeisterin Jenny Bond.”

I once again became the object of Gertie's attention, “So Gaby, did mama give you any tips before you went to Kanada?”

What do you say?

“Don't wear mascara, the Panda look is never good in photographs!” I told her with a grin.
“The voice of experience no doubt,” Gertie smiled back, “So are these your medals?”

Well they aren't chocolate tree decorations, duh!

“Yup,” I allowed, “The time trial,” I waggled one gong before doing the same with the other, “And the road race.”
“They look quite heavy?”
“They are,” I agreed, “Here.”

Standing up, I lifted the ribbons over my head then placed them over a surprised Gertie's head, before retaking my seat.

“They really are quite heavy,” our host stated as she hefted a gong, “Quite a burden for our new Weltmeisterin, as you may have seen, she isn't a big girl.”

If she says the C word I'm walking!

“Its a burden I'm happy to have,” I stated in an attempt to cut her off at the pass.
 
“So where do you go from here Gaby, you've conquered the world, what next?”

What indeed?

“Well I qualify for the under eighteens for two more years so I'll be trying to retain my titles.”
“And after that?”
“Well obviously i'd like to go to the Beijing Olympics in 2008 although I need to pass my college course first.”
“You are studying towards a business degree?”
“Well thats the idea, I guess it will depend on how the cycling goes, for now I think I want to just enjoy wearing the Rainbow stripes.”
“For those who don't know, in cycling the Weltmeisterin, or Weltmeister wears a special jersey, with rainbow bands, so if you are out and about in the Eiffel look out for Gaby in her distinctive strip. Well thank you for coming to see us this evening, and for making me, just for a short time, a Weltmeister too, thank you Gaby and good luck for the future.”
“Thank you.”
“Well from the cut and thrust of the cycle track to the slightly slower pastime of stargazing, lets go over to Martin at the Space Museum, Martin.”

The monitor changed to a view of Gertie's sidekick, Martin Schneider stood outside what even I recognised as the German Space Centre out near the airport.

“Thank you Gertie, quite a young lady eh, well here at the Space Centre things are little less cut and thrust.”
 
I was being 'unwired' even as Schneider spoke.

“Well that went nicely, oh you'd better have these back,” Gert told me as she slipped my medal ribbons back over her head.
“Yeah, after all the effort to get them i'd best look after them.”
“I'm sure there will be many more Gaby, how's the Kiosk going?”
“I hope so,” I shrugged standing, “Bit quiet now but we were busy all summer.”
“That's good to hear, well take care and I'm sure we'll share the lens again soon,” she suggested leaning in for a friendly hug.
“I guess its a possibility,” I allowed as we seperated, “I'd best get out of your way, Dad'll be wanted to get home for his dinner.”
 
“That wasn't so bad was it?” Dad queried as we made our way back out of the RTL building.
“Guess not,” I allowed.
“So you ready for some food?”
“We not going home?”
“I'd rather eat before midnight, your Mum has taken Manda to the velodrome.”
“Okay,” I shrugged, “If you're paying, where we going?”
“I asked one of the production bods, apparently there's a place down by the river they recommend.”
“Fair enough, lead on MacDuff.”
 
The RTL studios are just around the corner from the Telekom Tower out at Bad Godesberg, its not far down to the river, we'd ended up parking down the hill anyway so the few metres further to the restaurant, the Goldene Anker were not even out of our way. Despite the name it turned out to be a Chinese, a fairly busy one at that but we only waited a couple of minutes before being seated.

I know Dad enjoys a Chinese occasionally, me, I can take it or leave it, it can be a bit bitty and messy.

After placing our drinks order, Dad had a quick look at the menu, “Fancy sharing a set meal?”
Well given I usually end up with Sweet and Sour, “Yeah okay.”
The drinks arrived, “You ready to order please?”
“Yes, can we get the set meal B but just for two?”
“B is for three, A for two.”
“I know,” Dad patiently replied but we'd like the stuff in B.”
“B for three, price for three,” our waiter repeated.

I just rolled my eyes.

“Tell you what,” Dad went on, “Just do us B as it comes.”
“But you are only two.”
“I know but we're hungry.”

The waiter departed shaking his head, goodness knows what will turn up.
 
“Lets have a look at these gongs then, you waved them about yesterday but then they were spirited away.”
“Er sure,” I allowed digging into my Handtasche to retrieve them, “Wish you'd been there, in Canada.”
“You seemed to do okay without me,” he pointed out as he took the precious metal from me.
“Yeah, but it wasn't the same.”
“Frank and whatshername, they looked after you no?”
“Annika,” I filled in, “Yeah, I guess.”
“So what difference would my being there have made?”
“Dunno,” I admitted.
“Look kiddo, sooner or later there will come a point where I won't be able to be at all your races, another year or so and you'll be moving up to the senior ranks, whether that's with Apollinaris or someone else, I won't be there. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy what I do, looking after you and the others is mostly a pleasure but life goes on, circumstances change, we might wish for the status quo,”
“Or T Rex,” I interrupted.
“Indeed, where was I, oh yeah, if I can be at your races I always will but as your father, you'll have different managers, coaches and so on, like you had at BC, you don't need me to succeed kiddo.”
“I know, but still...”

Our waiter chose that moment to arrive with our soup, yep three bowls of Won Ton, he looked confused after placing a bowl in front of each of us.

“Here,” Dad suggested taking the remaining bowl from the tray.
“Ah, hungry,” our server beamed in some sort of understanding before more happily retreating.
“Eat up, we'll split this when we've got some space,” Dad suggested.
“At least the rest of it is easier,” I noted.
 
Maddy Bell © 25.11.2018

“And remember your Braun essays are due on Thursday,” Lisbet mentioned over the scraping of chairs and murmured conversation.

Just what I need – not. I let out a sigh, i'd been putting off doing the essay for nearly a week, well I've been busy, but I guess it's got to crunch time.

“How's it going Gaby?”
“Eh?” I hadn't noticed Frau Olafsdottir coming over, “Oh sorry, yeah okay I think.”
“How are you finding the course? I know some of this stuff can be a bit dry.”
I shrugged, “It's what it is I guess, I never expected it to be exciting.”
“That's very pragmatic.”
“To be truthful there's more than enough excitement in my life at the moment, its sort of nice to do something a bit more mundane.”
“Yes, I saw you with Gertie last night.”
“That was so, so, embarrasing,” I allowed.
“Embarrasing? I thought you looked very professional.”
“Ha!”
“You in a hurry, coffee?”
“Not really, Max doesn't finish until five today, coffee would be good.”
“Come on then.”
 
Lisbet led the way to her office, I used to dread getting called to Frau Boxberg's office but it feels almost 'normal' to have coffee with my course tutor. Coffee was organised and we settled into the semi formal seating more usually used for the 'seminars' we have every couple of weeks. I took the opportunity to slip my shoes off and rub my poor tootsies.

“You know you don't have to dress all office,” Lisbet mentioned spotting what I was doing.
“Doesn't feel right wearing ordinary stuff,” I opined, “Gets me in a sort of work mood.”
“Well if it works for you, here, one sugar right?” she handed me a beaker of dark liquid.
I sniffed at the vapors, “Different beans?”
“No flies on you Bond, thought i'd try that blend you suggested last week.”
“Thought so,” I took a sip of my beverage, “Much smoother than the other.”
“Have to say I agree, how did you get to be so knowledgable?”
“Time served Barista at the bakery, oh and I drink a lot of coffee!”
“I think i've been using the other since I was at university, bit boring I'm afraid.”
“If its not broke,” I suggested.
“Doesn't mean it can't be improved, I'm a bit set in my ways with some stuff,” she admitted.
“I suppose we all are to some extent, I always use the same shampoo.”
“Guilty also. So what's it feel like to be a media star?”
“I'm hardly that Lisbet,” I scoffed.
“Oh I don't know, Gertie this week, that sports quiz thing before that.”
“You saw that? Now I really am embarrassed, I didn't think anyone watched that.”
“Proscribed viewing in my house I'm afraid.”
“I was awful, I didn't even get the cycling questions right.”
“Oh it wasn't so bad, you got the football question.”
“Well you'd have to be on planet Zog to not know Bayern won the title.”
“Maybe, you certainly looked in control with our Gertie though.”
“We sort of have some history,” I told her.
“Oh?”
“It wasn't exactly the first interview i've done with her.”
“Do tell,” she prompted.
“Its nothing really.”
“Well I don't know anyone else who's even been on TV.”
“Really, it wasn't anything much.”
“So you can tell me about it then,” she pushed.

Whatever.

“Well, there was the opening of the fitness track,” I started counting off on my fingers, “When I got the medal last year, then there was the Weihnachtsmarkt and when we opened the Kiosk.”
“Weihnachtsmarkt?”
“Up in Ahrweiler, we do a charity stall for the Kinderhaus, you know, take donations, sell coffee and cake, that sort of thing.”
“So how come Gertie interviewed you and not someone else?”
“Well I was up for this award on English TV, they had Gertie as sort of local liason.”
“Ah, I see, did you win?”
“Uh huh,” I agreed around my coffee mug, “Talk about mortifying.”
“Why so?”
“How would you feel about being on national television wearing Mittelalter costume?”
“Go on, why were you in fancy dress?”
“It wasn't just me, all the Angels were dressed, for the stall.”
Lisbet shook her head, “You continue to surprise me Gaby Bond, you have fingers in so many pies, so you will be doing this stall again this year?”
“I think so, well if I can fit it in with college of course.”
“Its no wonder your old headmistress spoke so well of you, I just wonder what else there is I don't know about you?”
I turned what felt like fire engine red, “Not much?”
“That I severely doubt, so you are finished racing for the year?”
“Well I might do some 'cross but yeah, the road's finished.” well unless we get invited to Japan again.
“Cross?”
“Er yeah, cyclocross, off tarmac racing.”
“The mountain bikes?”
“No, none of those fat tyres and stuff, we use drop bar bikes, skinny tyres and all that, much faster and more skilful.”
“And are you a champion at this also?”
“Nah, well not now, when I was younger, now its just a bit of fun in the off season.”
“Somehow I get the feeling that your bit of fun would be most peoples very serious.”
“Possibly.”
 
“Hey Gab.”
“Don't tell me, you're gonna be late.”
“How'd you know that?” my boyfriend asked.
“Well why else would you be ringing me at this time?”
“Look sorry but stuff is running over, I'll make it up to you.”

No kidding von Strechau.

“How long?”
“About an hour? I'll spring for food before we go back.”

Hmm, free food for hanging about. On the other hand i've already been killing time since Lisbet's lecture ended at two plus i've got stuff to do at home like that flippin' Braun essay.

“Have to take a raincheck, I need to get home.”
“Okay, see you in the morning?”
“Yeah, okay, laters.”
“Tschuss.”

I closed my Handy and stowed it in my bag, cheeky sod could have sounded like he meant it. A quick check of the time revealled I had five minutes to get to the platform, not usually an issue but these shoes are killing. In the end I got there just as the Zug arrived and I even managed to grab a seat, albeit halfway up the stairs but a seat's a seat.
 
“That you Gab?”
“No its Steffi Graf,” I shot back toward the lounge.
“Well if you see her, tell her that dinner's in the oven,” Mum called back.

Great, more done in pasta or dried up chicken. One advantage to going to college in Koblenz is that I get out of cooking dinner, on the other hand one disadvantage is that I get to reheat my portion some time after everyone else has eaten. Maybe I should've waited for Max and have him buy me dinner.

“Thanks Mum.”
 
My first guess was right, well the second too, I retrieved the oven dish to find a rather unappealling Macoroni Carbonnara a Pollo gently congealling. Mum can cook but she's got out of the habit so I was looking at the result, pasta with a shop bought sauce and frozen chicken. Okay its better than beans on toast but honestly, it sucks big time – and to make things worse I'll have to nuke it too.

“Everything okay?” said parent enquired joining me in the kitchen, “You want a cuppa?”
“Please. How long to put this out of its misery?”
“Aren't you putting it on a plate?”
“What for, extra washing up? Its not like there's company.”
“Its not very ladylike,” she pointed out, “Give it a minute, put something over it so it doesn't dry out.”

Any more than it already is. Hmm, might have a sort of remedy for that. I grabbed the kettle and splashed a bit of the contents into the dish.

“What're you doing?”
“Rescuing my dinner I hope,” i informed Mater as I shut the microwave's door.
Mum shrugged, “Good day at college?”
“Alright I guess.”
“Don't sound too enthusiastic,” she chided.
“Well its not like we're doing much more than listening to Lisbet or whoever, making notes and writing essays.”
“Welcome to further education, its the same for everyone.”
“Maybe I should've done child care with Con, they're already doing placements and stuff,” I sighed.

Ding!

“Well I'm sure she has plenty of classroom stuff too.”
I pulled my dinner out of the micro and removed the cover, “Yes!”
“Of course yes,” Mum continued.
“Not that, this,” I advised transferring the tray to the table. I think it was Gran showed me the rehydration trick, doesn't always work but its worth a go if the pasta isn't too dead.
“Looks a bit dry, you want the Parmesan?”

I surveyed the food, I don't know about cheese, maybe some Paprika, a few Chillies, maybe some peppers and stuff or even a good splash of Hendo's, not that we've got any left worst luck.

“Er please,” I replied poking the food with a fork.
 
“So where is everyone?” I enquired between mouthfuls of pasta.
“Your Dad's taking Manda to the track league remember?”
“Oh right,” I vaguely remember him saying something before I left this morning.
“You could've gone,” Mum mentioned.
I shrugged, “Not really my thing.”
“Thought you enjoyed it when you were at Manchester?”
“It was alright I suppose.”
“So what is Gaby Bond doing this evening, no Max?”
“Mu-um!” I groaned, “I've got an essay to write.”
“Anything exciting?”
“Two thousand words on Braun's management theory.”
“Bit outside of my remit,” she admitted.
“Its hardly rivetting stuff, there any of that cheesecake left?”
“You should be the size of a horse, should be enough for two slices,” she hinted.

And so another exciting evening of the not rich or famous kicked into second gear.

 
Maddy Bell © 27.11.2018

 
“Will you stand still!” Steff snapped.
“Soz.”
She fiddled with my dress again before stepping back, “Done.”

I looked at my reflection in her wardrobe mirror, a strange beast looked back at me, well not strange weird rather something not quite right.

“What do you reckon?”
“It exposes a lot,” I mentioned fingering the low cut neck line.
“You wear a bikini.”
“Not the same.”
“And those cycling suit things don't exactly hide anything,” she added.
Hmm, she's got me there, but even so, “At least the girls are covered, not like this.”
“What about your Kostüm, thats hardly subtle and you'll be up on the stage anyway.”

I should perhaps explain a bit. Its only a fortnight until my next appearance with BlauHase, of course Stefan and the guys play all the time, 'Erdbeere's' appearances are reserved for the bigger gigs. And whilst borrowing from my sister’s wardrobe of Gothy stuff might work in a back street club, for the Rheinhalle in Bonn with a proper stage and lighting, well a bit more effort is required. Not only that but I'm actually getting paid in real Geld too hence the new frock and its not exactly the sort of occasion Gerta and Dotty cater for.

“It'll look different when you've got your hair and warpaint on,” my self appointed stylist opined.

Well that's true I guess, I haven't even got shoes on at the moment – damn shoes!

I made a slow twirl to look at my rear, “You sure this bustle thing is okay?”
“Sure,” she stated.

The dress? Well its actually a recycled wedding dress that Steff has altered a bit and dyed a sort of dark pink. Altered, well its now quite, er knicker skimming at the front whilst retaining the original bustle business and floor sweeping train. The top is quite fitted, its a sweetheart neckline which is balanced a bit by the short puffy sleeves.

“It'll look fine Gab, what shoes are you wearing?”
“Er not sure,” I admitted.
“Tell you what would look really cool, remember those stilettos in that shop in Koblenz, like a platform with a spike heel?”
“I do have to walk you know.”
“Not far and you're on stage for what, an hour?”
“Give or take.”
“You dying your hair?”
“Not sure.”
“It'd be a bit weird if you turn up without your trademark colour.”
“I actually like being blonde,” I pointed out, “It’s taken like six months to get it grown out to this.”
“You can get temporary wash out colours.”
“Hmm, maybe.”
“Well I reckon it'd look cool, do your hair all big, dramatic makeup, no one'll recognise you.”
“Isn't that defeating things?”
“Depends whether you want to be recognised.”

Well there is that.
 
“There you are,” Dad observed when I got back from Steff's.
“Here I am,” I agreed.
“When do you get off college in December?”
“December? What for?”
“Yes December, do you have the dates or not?”
“Keep your hair on,” I dug into my college bag to get my notebook out.
“Lets see, dur de dur de dur,” I flicked through the pages to find the timetable, “Here we are, last day is Thursday fourteenth – wow we don't go back until the eigth!”
“Hmm, that works.”
“What works?”
“Apollinaris are stumping up for a couple of team training camps,”
“Training camps?”
“They're pretty keen on building on Canada, we're getting a bigger budget and they're stumping up for some team building and performance camps.”
“Cool, I guess. So where're we going, Mayen?”
“Bit more exciting than that, we're looking at Austria in December then Tenerife for a week before Easter.
“Wow!” I allowed.
“It doesn't come for free though kiddo.”
“There had to be a catch,” I sighed.
“Its not too onerous, a bit of promo stuff.”
“And?”
“They're talking about a TV advert.”
“Really?”
“They're keen to capitalise on your Rainbow jerseys.”

I guess I couldn't blame them for that, they've stumped up a fair bit of dosh to support the teams the last few years with few demands, I guess its time we repaid our dues.

“So when do we go to Austria?”
“Well now I have your dates I can confirm things but essentially we'll be there the week before Christmas.”
 
“So what do you reckon,” I asked my confidant and adopted sister.
“To what?”
“Well duh, dyeing my hair?” i had just spent five minutes telling her about my dress fitting with Steff.
She shrugged, “Go for it, its not like its not been pink for most of the year is it?”
“It was only supposed to be for the prom.”
“You could always wear a wig.”
“Its an idea,” I agreed before changing the subject, “Dad mentioned these training camps?”
She perked up a bit, “Yeah, sounds cool.”
I chortled, “Cool, very good Mand.”
“Huh?”
“Cool? It'll be flippin' cold in Austria in December.”
“It's cold everywhere in December.”
“Yeah, I suppose there'll be Glühwein on tap,” I mentioned with a waggle of eyebrows.
“Talking of which, you lot doing the Christmas market this year?”
“Think so, might be a bit difficult fitting it in with everything else mind.” I paused then wiggled my hand at her, “What do you reckon?”
“Not bad, this green really isn't working for me though,” she presented her own nails.
“It does look a bit tweenie,” I agreed, “You going to see your Mum this year?”
“After last year?”
“Thought you'd got over that?”
“We've agreed to disagree, doesn't mean I want to spend time with her.”
“Guess not.”

It must be awkward at times for her, oh don't get me wrong she gets included with everything the Bond clan do, but she's not really one of the family. I'm pretty sure that it weighs on her that she's quite beholden to the Rents financially, especially since the BC funding runs out in the New Year, with the new regime its unlikely to be extended either. Uncertain times indeed.
 
“What's with the trainers?” Max asked as I slid into the seat beside him.
“Comfort,” I told him as our chauffeur set us off towards the autobahn.
“Looks a bit weird,” he advised.

Max von Strechau, fashion critic! Well to be honest I have to agree, runners with a smart skirt and hose does look a bit weird but I have got appropriate footwear in my bag to change into. Mum's idea after I complained about aching feet every time i've got home this week.

“We meeting later?”
“Not today, got to get back, training then I'm going up to have dinner with the Preiser's.”
“Oh well, what about tomorrow?”
“What about it?”
“You want to get pizza or something?”
“What about Garde?”
“Give it a miss for a week.”

Which would be okay except I'm supposed to be covering for Hannah this week.

“Can't, I'm in charge this week, why the sudden desire to feed me?”
“Can't I treat my girlfriend without a reason?”
“Hmm, I'm free after, like half seven, you could pick me up?”
“Could do, where'd you want to eat?”
“Not bothered, not pizza though,” I dictated.
“Pommes and Würst?”
“Don't push it.”

There were snorts from the front seats, one of the hazzards of car sharing to college.
 
“Bit late for that,” Elise suggested slipping into the seat next to me.
“Oh hi Ellie, oh its finished, just checking the spelling, how many s's in vorgefasst?”
“Two I think.”
“That's alright then, thats what I've put, it just didn't look right.”
“Langenscheidt's are my best friend, I'm terrible at spelling,” she admitted.
“I'm usually pretty good, its English I'm bad at.”
“Thought you used to live there?”
“Yeah, I'm alright speaking, its just writing stuff, some words are spelt the same but mean completely different things.”
“That used to get me too,” she agreed.
“Good morning everyone,” we were interrupted by Lisbet's voice as she joined us in the lecture theatre.

A round of mumbled greetings were returned, a couple of latecomers slipped in before our 'leader' returned to the door and closed it – woe betide anyone arriving now.

“So, first things, hopefully you've all got your Braun essays? Kurt, can you collect them for me please, today we'll have a general look at different areas of management, what they have in common and whether some of these less traditional areas can offer anything to more core management disciplines.”

She paused to uncap her board marker.

“So what are these other management types, Arsen?”
“Erm, in a shop?”
“So retail management,” Lisbet scrawled on the board, “Maria?”
“The arts.”
“Good, Gaby, another please.”
“Sport?” well it was pretty obvious to me.
“Very good, so we might split both of these down further, venue, team or group and then individual,” Frau Olafsdottir added these to the wipe board. “More?”
“What about the governing bodies,” Kurt suggested.
“Excellent, so we might include things like the Bundesliga, trade associations, any more?”
“Hobby groups?” I offered.
“You are thinking things like Karneval clubs?”
“I guess so, could be stamps or travelling, anything really.”
“So leisure groups in general. That it?”
“What about unions?” Frank suggested.
“Similar to the trade but we'll put it up, that everything?” there being no further student input she continued, “Okay so what do all of these have in common?”

Just another day in Business studies.

 
Maddy Bell © 29.11.2018

 
I was certainly glad for Mum's trainer suggestion, a quick footwear change at the end of Lisbet's session and I was on my toes across Koblenz to get, hopefully, the northbound express. My luck was in, a last dash through the Lohr Centre out to the platform where I just got on as the doors started to close. Being mid afternoon there were plenty of seats, homeward bound students generally get the stopping train, this one missing all but a couple of their stops, after Lohr its Andernach then straight up to Remagen.

“Well hello stranger.”
“Hi Myleen,” I allowed sagging into a seat.
“The call of the big city eh?”
“Commuting sucks,” I told her.
“Congratulations on your gold medals by the way, your friends were telling everyone about it for the whole week."
“For a minute I thought you'd seen me on Rhein Abend.”
“Oh I saw that too, required viewing in my house.”
“I made a bit of a fool of myself.”
“Of course not, you looked very professional, you gave as good as you got.”
“That woman does it to me every time, she knows my buttons.”
“Oh of course, you've been on the show before."
“Several times, that was the first time at the studio though.”

By now we were coming into Bad Neunahr.

“Well i'd best check some tickets,” Myleen advised with a sigh, “If I miss you, take care, its good to see you again.”
“And you.”

By now it was chucking out time at Silverberg so Myleen was kept busy with a horde of students, the next stop being Dernau I didn't actually see her before I got off. I trotted through town, a quick wave to Therese in the bakery, around the corner and I was back at Schloß Bond. At this point I usually stick the kettle on but being on a tight schedule I rushed upstairs to put some cycling togs on.

Rather than push my luck with the light its an indoor session today, rollers to be precise so wearing just a sports bra and bib shorts I hurried back down to the garage.

“Oh hi kiddo,” Dad greeted, “Thought I heard you come in.”
“Geez, you nearly gave me heart failure.”
“You going out?”
“Not got time, rollers, what're you doing?” I queried looking at the pile of bits on the workbench.
“Manda's shifter's been sticking, thought i'd have a quick look.”
“Looks a right can of er bits.”
“Quite simple really, so do you want a hand up?”
“Well as you're on the bench.”
 
I was soon balanced on the treadmill for bikes, of course, unlike the turbo's you actually have to balance and concentrate on rollers or its a messy tangle in short order. Okay, you can't do some of the intensive stuff but with a bit of practice, and i've had a lot, you can do a good session, ride no hands and not get bored. Ten minutes warm up, thirty minute effort, five warm down, a stiff session and i've not left home.

“So what is it, hot date with Max?” Dad queried.
“I told you this morning, the Preiser's invited me up for dinner.”
“I'm guessing you need transport?”
“I was supposed to be picked up from Ahrbrück but if you're offering?”
“Go on, what time are you supposed to be there?”
“Between half six and seven,” I offered.
“You'd best shake a leg then, its nearly quarter to now.”
“Sugar!” I allowed pausing only to lose my bike shoes before heading up to my eyrie.
 
It wasn't far off full dark as we set off up the valley, a light drizzle wetting the windscreen and dampening the tarmac. The A is quite nippy and we were soon threading through Altenahr, it might only be half six but the place was almost dead. I felt a twinge of guilt when we crossed the bridge and passed the kiosk, i've spent far too little time there the last few weeks what with college, Canada and connected stuff.

That has of course hit me in the wallet too, I get the 'pie commision' but otherwise only the hours worked, ergo, no work no wage. Well I'll be there this weekend, maybe things will calm down a bit now and I can start pulling my weight again. We had to wait for the Express at the level crossing then we were on our way again.

“You're quiet,” Dad mentioned, “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, just thinking.”
“Must be important.”
“Not especially, just college stuff.”

Well sort of, I'm supposed to be joint manager of the kiosk, leading from the front and lately its pretty much the reverse of that.

“So did you get that shifter sorted?” I asked as we made the turn towards Staffel still nearly ten kilometres away.
“No, I'll let Mike have a look tomorrow.”
“You know this training camp?”
“Uh huh.”
“Will we actually be able to ride, I mean, Austria in December?”
“Who said anything about riding?”
“Cycling team, training camp?” I suggested.
“Think of it more as a team building exercise,” Pater told me, “This next goes no further right?”
Well I can keep a secret, “'Kay.”
“I'm serious Gaby.”
“I get it,” I mimed zipping my lips.
“Okay, well we're in talks at the minute to bring Darren and Mikel onto the squad full time.”
“That'd make seven of us.”
“Possibly,” he agreed.
“Possibly?”
“Well we might be losing someone.”
Enquiring minds need to know, “Who?”
“I can't say just yet.”
“Its not Mand is it?”
“I told you, I can't say at the moment, i've already said too much, not a word to anyone else Gaby, I mean it.”
“I said didn't I?”
“Hmm.”
 
We turned into the lane to the farm, the A Klasse bouncing about through the potholes like a cork in a stream. The yard lights were on which meant we missed hitting the bright pink car thing sat on the cobbles. No prizes for guessing who that belongs to!

“Do you need fetching?”
“Herr Preiser said he'd drop me back.”
“Well call if you want me to come.”
“Thanks Dad,” I leant over and pecked his cheek, “I shouldn't be too late anyhow.”
“Give the girls my love.”
“I will, tschuss.”
I got out, pulling my coat a bit closer as I headed for the farmhouse door which opened as I got there. I waved to Dad and followed Mart inside.
 
“Look who's here Drea, its Aunty Gab!” Bern told her daughter.

Of course I didn't rate as much interest as the fistful of, well I think it started out as a biscuit, that she was gumming to death and spreading over the high chair or the cartoon on the TV.

“Hi sweety.” I stooped to peck her forehead – at least that wasn't covered in sticky biscuit. “She's certainly growing.”
“Tell me about it,” Bern allowed with a roll of the eyes.
“You want tea Gaby?” Mart enquired, “Don't worry, Bern's been teaching me.”
“He's actually quite good,” my friend whispered.
“Er yeah, tea would be good.”
“Be right back.”

I found myself a seat on the Preiser's sofa, last time I was here it was all order and tidy, clearly by the random soft toys and other assorted toddler accessories Drea's presence has changed the whole dynamic.

“Sorry i've not been up before, its been like mental since Canada.”
“I can guess, we saw you on that quiz programme last week.”
“So how's it all going here?”
Bern dabbed at some of her offsprings mess, “Bit awkward at times and you can't exactly just walk to the shops but okay really, miss mum and dad mind."
“They'll be missing you two too.”
“They're coming over for a visit in December.”
“Well thats something to look forward to right? What about Drea?”
“Oh she's anyones for a biscuit! She was a bit out of sorts the first couple of weeks but talk about ducks to water, we like feeding the chickens don't we?”

My 'niece' happily gurgled.

“Erika put you to work then?”
“Have to earn our keep somehow, chickens, laundry, put the vacuum round, its not exactly hard labour, I was doing it at home in Warsop anyhow – well apart from the chickens.”
“Better than commuting to Koblenz every day,” I opined.
“How's that going?”
“Okay I guess,” I didn't really want to spend the evening talking about college.
“Here we go,” Mart announced returning with a tea tray, “What are you two plotting?”
“Nothing for you to worry about Liebchen.”
He put the tray down and started to pour the tea, “She told you about the party Gab?”
“Party?”
“I was just getting to it,” Bern pouted.
“I'll leave it to you then, oh mum said dinner will be about twenty minutes.”
“Okay, this one can go down before we eat.”
“Party?” I prompted.
“Oh yeah,” Bern refocussed on the conversation, “We're having a Hallowe'en party.”

The Preiser party's are, you might recall, legendary, certainly not something to miss.

“Usual thing Gab, fancy dress, music, everyone's invited, could you spread the word?” Mart filled.
“Yeah sure, I don't get to see the girls much these days, with college and stuff, it'll be good to see everyone. What about the sprog?”
“Think she's a bit young Gab,” Bern giggled.
“Oma has volunteered to babysit,” Mart advised.

I slapped my forehead.

“Gab?” Miss Rose queried.
“You think she might sit for you a week next Saturday?”
“Possibly, why?”
I dug into my bag then flourished a couple of paper slips, “BlauHase concert starring yours truly.”
“Gaby Bond, International Superstar! Who would've thought it,” Bern grinned.
“Hardly superstar,” I pointed out, “I sing a couple of covers thats all.”
“I've heard you sing Bond,” Mart stated, “There is no 'thats all' to it, course we'll come.”
“I can do with some friendly faces in the crowd.”
“Where is it?”
“The Rheinhalle,” I told him.
“Where's that?” Bern enquired.
“Up in Bonn,” Mart supplied, “We'll be there Gab.”
“I'd best get this one cleaned up and to bed if we are going to eat in a few minutes,” Bern told us as she hefted the toddler from the high chair.
“I'll come and tuck her in a minute,” Mart stated.
“Nitey nite sweetie,” I offered before giving another head kiss, “See you soon, sleep tight.”
Bern waggled her daughters hand at me, “Won't be long Gab, I'm sure Mar can entertain you for a few minutes.”

 
Maddy Bell © 01.12.2018

© Maddy Bell 8.2.2019

© Maddy Bell 30.03.2019

 
“There's more Rotkohl if anyone wants it,” Erika advised as she took her seat.

The meal wasn't anything posh, well not by German standards, Strogonoff, the aforesaid red cabbage and Erdäpfelknödel1. Of course there's bean salad too and if I'm not mistaken there's Strudel in the oven, I can smell the cinnamon. Maybe its a bit more than a normal evening meal but nothing out of the ordinary.

“Not for me,” well its not very lady like to have more is it? Not only that but i always feel a little awkward in this sort of intimate setting, give me a public dinner and I'll be well in.
“Well if you change your mind, well dig in everyone.”

I might feel a bit like a spare part but clearly Bern was feeling right at home which was good to see. There was a bit of 'family' chit chat as we ate, sick chickens, horses needing the farrier, broken tractors – everyday farm stuff I guess. Mixed in were tales of Drea sitting in puddles and anecdotes of Marty's junior adventures, much to his obvious discomfort.

We got through the main course, Bern and Mart clearing the table before Stefan addressed me.

“So Gaby, what is it like to be famous?”
“Well I don't know about famous,” I replied before taking a sip of wine.
“Weltmeisterin, no double Weltmeisterin, of course you are famous,” Erika opined, “Can you serve the dessert please Bernie?”
“Sure mama.”

Mama? Whats that about?

“Well its not like i've not won stuff before,” I mentioned.
“But before no one else knew, you've been in the papers, on the TV, you are now public property,” Stefan noted.
“I guess.”
“That's a nice dress, something tells me its not from Cunda,” Erika suggested.
“Er no, I got it from Eloise in Ahrweiler for a friends wedding.”
“Ah, I see Gerta's influence now, most girls your age would have something from the High Street, it must have been an important wedding.”
“Fairly,” I admitted, “Sara Thun und Taxis, I'm friends with her sister.”
“Isn't that who you stayed with at New Year?” Bern chimed from across the room.
“Taxis, as in the Duke?” Stefan queried.
“Erm yes, their dad,” I allowed, my face taking on a bit of a blush.
“You certainly have friends in high places Gaby,” Erika stated.
“I guess.”
“You aren't secretly royalty, hiding out in the backwaters of the Eifel?”
“As if!” and no, I'm not admitting to the whole story.
“You must admit, that being on the TV does give you some fame,” Stefan observed.

I hadn't really looked at it quite that way and having had Mum's success around me for, well it feels like forever, it sort of feels normal. But I guess things have been turned up a notch since Canada, the media seem to have latched onto me like a limpet. So far no one has made the connection between the bike rider and the 'debutant' that Stern and Bild have been pursuing, I dread to think what would happen if that came out.

“You'll always be 'our' Gaby,” Mart suggested bringing the first desserts to table.

It was indeed strudel, homemade of course and I'm pretty sure the cream was fresh from the farm. Hmm, the Germans might not be big on hot puddings but a good Strudel is almost up there with treacle tart and rhubarb crumble – well almost. I'm pretty sure having a dessert has come from Bern, she knows I'll always make room.

 
“Can you get the cups Gab, corner cupboard,” Bern requested.
“Sure,” I agreed, “So what is this calling Erika Mama?”
“Well I can hardly call her Erika can I?”
“Why not? I do.”
“Just doesn't seem right and I could hardly call her Frau Preiser all the time could I?”
“I guess, just seems a bit weird. So how are things going, really?”
“The Preisers are being really good.”
“That's not what I mean and you know it.”
She slumped into a chair, “It's not easy Gabs, not easy at all.”
“You regretting it?”
“No, well maybe a little, no,” she stated firmly, “I haven't got the SS threats hanging over me, us, Drea is really happy, she starts Krippe after Christmas.”
“Thats good,”
“Yeah, she needs to be with other kids, not just the animals here, and Mart's being a real brick.”
“How's the German coming?”

Daft question, we've been speaking it all evening.

“Pretty good, its been a steep learning curve, I thought I was quite good before I came out but there's so much I miss.”
“It can be a bit difficult, throw in a bit of local slang, nightmare.”
“It's alright for you, Mart said you got the best marks in German for the whole region.”
“Er might have,” I admitted, “What about money,?”

Yeah I know its sort of taboo but i've known Bern since junior school, nothing is out of bounds between us.

“What money?”
“You don't get anything? Surely you can claim something from the SDZ, for Drea at least?”
“Not until my citzenship goes through, I'll get Hartz then, for now I just get the child allowance from back home.”
“That sucks, what about housing benefit and stuff?”
“Don't qualify, Mum and Dad send a bit extra but it all goes on stuff for Drea.”
“Its a pity you aren't down in the valley, I could get you some shifts at the Kiosk.”
“'s alright Gab, thanks anyway, I knew what I was getting into.”
“Seriously Bern, if you need anything you know where I am.”

I leant over and we hugged, Bern sniffling more than a bit.

“Come on, they'll be wondering where the coffee is,” my friend stated a couple of minutes later, breaking off the hug.
“Just don't bottle things up right, you've got friends here.”
“Thanks Gab, come on coffee.”
Mart chose that moment to return to the kitchen, “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, just talking, you know, girl stuff liebe.”
“Want me to take it through?” he offered.
“If you can take the coffee?”
“Sure.”

 
“Thanks for coming up Gaby,” Stefan told me as we descended the road from Staffel a while later.
“No problem.”
“It must be difficult for her, she doesn't get much chance to socialise with us being so remote, you will come to the party?”
“Try keeping me away.”
“I know she looks to you, its Gaby this, Gaby that, how you delivered Drea.”
“It wasn't just me,” I pointed out.
“Not to hear Bernie talk.”
“I think she's a bit lonely.”
“Erika says the same, the village is hardly full of young families.”

I'd not really thought of that sort of thing, Dernau is a lot bigger and there aren't exactly hordes of young families and I suppose out in the Boonies they all have similar issues of being remote. Difference being they will mostly have a friend network and transport, Bern has neither.

“Uh huh.”
“We had thought maybe a part time job, but there is not so much about that would work.”
“I could get her some shifts at the Kiosk but its not exactly close is it?”
“Its not impossible,” he suggested, “What about Drea though?”
“Yeah, maybe not ideal to have a toddler about, maybe when she starts Krippe.”
“Its very thoughtful of you Gaby.”
“She is my friend, she'd do the same for me.”

 
The rain beat a tattoo on my umbrella as I did my best to stay dry while I waited for Olaf and co to pick me up. I hadn't slept brilliantly, the girls up at the farm at the forefront of my semi-conscious musings. It was into the single digits before I finally descended into proper sleep, so much for eight hours slumber a night.

A flash of headlights alerted me to my lift arriving, I had the umbrella down by the time the Polo pulled up. I chucked the brolly to Max, climbed in and pulled the door shut in double quick time.

“Morning guys.”
“Heya Gab,” Freddy returned, Olaf giving his usual grunt.
“You look damp,” Max noted.
I finally got my seatbelt done up as we exited Dernau, “You don't say.”
“So how was dinner?”
“Okay, oh, while I remember, Hallowe'en party, fancy at the farm, you too Freddy.”
“I wondered whether they'd do it this year,” Fred noted.
“Its a tradition,” Max opined, “Fancy dress?”
“Of course, wouldn't be Hallowe'en without."
“You going as a stripper again Gab?” Freddy queried.
His brother's head snapped around, “Stripper?”
“No, and i wasn't a stripper!”
“You must admit there wasn't much of it Gab,“ Max observed.
“Anna's idea of a joke at my expense.”
“I like her jokes.”
“Hmmph,” I allowed.
“We still on for tonight?”
“Tonight?”
“After your Garde thing, me, you, food?”
“I'm not going on that Mofa if its like this.”
“But in theory?” he pressed.
“In theory, if its not piddling down.”
“Cool, wear something nice?”
“You suggesting I don't always?”
“Would I?”
“Not if you want me to wear the ring,” I suggested in a whisper – well don't want Freddy and Olaf getting ideas.
Max's eyebrows shot up, “That I can go with.”

 
The traffic on the autobahn was awful, spray from the trucks reducing the already poor visibility. Then we were stopped in a queue, the wipers fighting a losing battle as the rain sheeted down. We were sat for several minutes before things started to move, albeit slowly, once again.

I've got a good window from drop off until my first class but the others were getting a bit antsy as we crawled along.

“Ot oh,” Olaf allowed steering us to the edge of the lane.

A moment later, the reflection of blue lights followed by sirens anounced the emergency services. We started to creep forward again, stop, start, fifty metres, ten, stop lights flashing on amongst the sea of tail lights. The overheads indicated two lanes closed ahead then even the last as we reached the Neuweid - Andernach turnoff, everything was being directed off.

Of course, off the motorway it was almost as much chaos as traffic tried to find a route past the hold up. Luckily for us Olaf knows the regions roads well from his job so rather than joining the queue towards the river we went 'inland' before cutting across towards the Mosel. It took time but at least we were moving, we reached the Landesamt about thirty minutes later than usual, the others were late, even i'd be on the nail.

 
Maddy Bell © 6.12.2018

 
​ “Tomorrow Gab,” Mum stated when i dripped indoors from college.
​ “Eh?” I queried from the hallway where I was intent on stripping off my wet footwear.
​ “And don't leave that 'brella dripping all over the floor.”
​ “Yes Mum,” I grumped, its been a horrible trip home, I got soaked getting to the Bahnhof, the train was crowded and steamy, the Express was late and I got splashed by a car as I waited to cross the main road, joy indeed. “What about Tomorrow?”
​ “Apollinaris want you for some promo pictures.”
​ “But I'm working.”
​ “Can't you get Connie to cover?”
​ “She's working already,” I pointed out, “Its a bit short notice.”
​ Mum shrugged, “I guess they want to take advantage of your fame.”
​ “I'm hardly famous.”
​ “You've been on Rhein Abend, won two world titles, okay its maybe not in the Mozart league but grab it while you can kiddo.”

​ I guess she's right, she's had her own share of fame, but as her own non selection for Canada highlighted, at the end of the day it doesn't really count for much of its self.

​ “What about your other friends, would one of them cover for you?”
​ “Possibly,” I allowed, looks like I'm doing it whether I like it or not.
​  
​ My handy chirped from my bag as I stripped my soggy leggings off a few minutes later, having escaped up to my eyrie.

​ “'lo, Bond.”
​ “We still on tonight?” Max asked without preamble.
​ “I'm not going anywhere on the Mofa, I got drowned coming home.”
​ “But in theory?” he pressed.
​ “In theory,” I agreed.
​ “Cool, see you at eight.”
​ “Er okay, laters.”
​ “Tchuss!”

​ Why do I feel like i've been railroaded for the second time in like twenty minutes? So now i've got to sort out cover at the kiosk and get dressed up for a date – and i've got like an hour before my lift up to the Tanzklub.
​  
​ So of course, all the girls were already booked up for tomorrow, even Mand had a shift at Der Mühle, at this rate I'll have to dip out of the Apollinaris thing.

​ “You sorted tomorrow out?” Mum asked when I clattered into the kitchen.
​ “Everyone's booked up,” I told her, “Looks like I'll have to miss being famous.”
​ “You tried everyone?”
​ “I just said,” I pointed out.
​ “What about Bernie, you said she could do with a job?”
​ “She's got Drea and how would she get there?”
​ “I'm sure the Preiser's would bring her down,” she paused, “And I think we can take care of Drea too. Give her a call, no point organising if she doesn't want to do it.”
​  
​ “Bit overdressed Gab,” Pia suggested when they collected me to go to Garde, “And the ring, hot date?”
​ “Max is taking me out after,” I admitted, “But its hardly a hot date, probaly dinner at his place.”

​ Well he never actually said other than dress nice. Rather than go full on glitz I decided on a more restrained approach, a red velvet affair with net sleeves, by the time I put my heels and glitz on it'll work for most possibilities. I hope there's food involved, I missed eating before coming out what with one thing and another.
​  
​ I'd just finished doing my slap when I heard a voice outside.

​ “Gab, you there?”

​ Max.

​ “Minute,” I called back.

​ Of course, Friday night its Garde but once we're done the oldies arrive, think its like Rock 'n' Roll, I'm usually on the way home before more than one or two have arrived. Anyhow, that's how Max had found his way into the building. I checked my lippy, red to match my dress, yeah, looking hot!​ I collected my stuff and headed outside.

​ “Whoa!” Max exclaimed.
​ “You like? I wasn't sure what to wear, you've been a bit vague,” I pointed out, “So where're we going, is there food and how are we getting there?”
​ “Car's outside, its a party, you'll see.”

​ Geez, Max von Strechau, man of mystery.
​  
​ The car turned out to be Wilhelm's big Mercedes complete with both parents.

​ “Max?” I queried.
​ He shrugged, “Better than the Mofa.”
​ “We were never going on the bike were we?” I suggested as we hurried across to the car.
​ “We are all going to the same place.”
​ “Which is?”

​ We arrived at the car, any reply sidetracked by getting on board out of the wet.

​ “Hi Gaby, you look nice,” Gloria offered in greeting as I slid in opposite her.
​ “Er evening.”

​ Max got into the front next to his dad, we were moving before i'd pulled the seat belt into place.

​ “So er, where are we going?”
​ “Max?” his mother prompted, “You didn't tell her?”
​ “I thought it'd be a surprise.”
​ “Men! Its the Heinemanns, Analise is expecting so its a pre baby party.”
​ “Analise, as in Bonn wedding?”
​ “She asked for you in particular,” Max told me from the front seat.
​ “Why didn't you say, I should've got her a present!”
​ “It's alright Gaby,” Gloria told me, “It's not that sort of party.”
​ “Well a card at least,” I suggested.
​ “Ding!” Max waved an envelope towards me, “You can write it.”
​ “Gee thanks,” I opined snatching it from his fingers.
​  
​ Of course it wasn't actually at the Heinemanns place, rather it was her parents place, a sizeable pile in the forest southwest of Bonn, some place called Villiprott. In practical terms, picking me up at Altenahr made no difference to the journey, we had simply followed the two five seven up to the motorway, off at the first junction and we were there. Max had actually picked out a fairly nice card, I might have well picked it myself.

​ Schloss Rech its not, but its clear that the family are 'old money', they might not have a high faluting title, I guess you'd call them landed gentry. Of course I met them at the wedding, the one with the ridiculous Mittelalter costumes at Bonn Dom, they're nice enough even to a teenaged pleb like me. We pulled up amongst the usual collection of Porsche, Mercedes and Audi, a few more run of the mill motors interspersed suggested a wider range of social status in attendance.

​ At least the wet had stopped, just as well given the unpaved nature of the forecourt, heels and gravel are not a great combination. Once inside it was clear that it was a gathering of two groups, the parents and the er, kids. I don't literally mean small children but rather the happy couples friends which apparently, I've been seconded into thanks to my connection with Max.

​ I felt a bit awkward as I followed the great lunk into a high ceilinged room at the front of the house.

​ “Gaby! You made it.” Analise cheerfully greeted.
​ “Er hi Analise, um congratulations.”
​ I was pulled into an enthusiastic hug, “Thanks Gab and what about you, Weltmeisterin, Jo, look who's here.”

​ Her husband came over to join us, maybe the red dress wasn't such a great idea, my blushing was, I'm sure making me look like a tomato.

​ “Gaby, nice to see you again, we saw you on Gertie the other day.”
​ “Um hi Johannes, how's the bakery going?”

​ Anything to divert attention from me.

​ “Not bad, its hard work but its coming along.”
​ “Come on, everyones here,” Analise told me, guiding me towards the other young women chatting across the room.

​ And so the scene was set. It wasn't a teen loud music and sausages on sticks affair, think more classical music and at about eight thirty, a sit down meal. Good job, i'd been fighting a rumbling tun for a bit by then.

​ Afterwards it got a bit livelier, the music more contemporary and a few bodies started gyrating. Max and me were definitely the youngest at the gathering but by the time I was in Max's arms moving to the soft rock, I felt quite at home. It helped that the Heinemanns friends were plebs like me for the most part and i'd met most of them on the Hen do and subsequent matrimonal gathering.

​ Yeah, it was nice to not be talking about bikes, college or the valley boys, is this what 'ordinary' people do? Well okay maybe not in big country houses, but just eat, drink, talk with friends? After the initial mention of my fame it was all about babies, even I had something to contribute to the conversation.
​  
​ It was gone twelve when I was dropped back at Chez Bond, tired but happy – i'd even forgiven Max for his subterfuge. The Rent's were still up, waiting for me to get home it turns out.

​ “Good time kiddo?” Dad enquired when I poked my head around the lounge door.
​ “Yeah, I guess.”
​ “Where did he take you then?” Mum asked.
​ I flopped onto the sofa before kicking my shoes off, “It was his cousin's sort of baby shower.”
​ “Sort of?”
​ “Well more like a family dinner party really, I'm glad I didn't go grunge.”
​ “So how did you get there to...?” Dad quired.
​ “Analise' parents up near Meckenheim, Wilhelm drove us in the Merc. Well I'm bushed, time for bed said Zebedee.”
​ “Don't forget we've got to leave early in the morning,” Mum mentioned.

​ Bum, this Apollinaris thing.

​ “Urgh, what time?”
​ “We need to be up at the Preiser's half seven, that'll give us time to get to this studio place.”
​ “What do I need to take.”
​ “Your Dad's already put the bikes and stuff in the car, guess you'll need your cycling shoes, they're supposed to be sorting out everything else.”
​ I shrugged, even I can manage shoes, “'kay, see you in the morning.”

​ I gave each of them a goodnight peck then headed upstairs.
​  
​ How is it that when you're dead beat you can never get to sleep? It wasn't that I was tossing and turning so much as I couldn't get the grey matter to shut down. Not only that but the clock barely seemed to be changing time, I swear I saw every minute tick by until almost two, eventually though my eyes did close and slumber took me.
​  
​ “Are you going to lose that ring?” Mum suggested as I inhaled my coffee.
​ “Eh?”
​ “In your nose?”
​ “Why? Its who I am.”
​ She sighed, “Well at least change it for the stone.”
​ “'kay,” I agreed with a shrug, to be honest i'd forgotten it was even still in my schnozz.

​ Outside, the day didn't look very promising, not yesterdays heavy rain but the threat of wet was there in the cloudy grey heavens, I hope they don't want me riding outside.

​ “Come on kiddo, shake those pretty legs, we've got places to be,” Mater chivvied.
​ “Er yeah, I'll just get some shoes on.”
​ “And change that thing in your nose.”
​ “Yes Mum.”

 
Maddy Bell © 07.01.2019

 
“There should be enough nappies,” Bern fussed passing Mum Drea's changing bag.
“I'm sure we'll cope,” Mum told her.
“Be a good girl for your Aunts Drea.”

Her daughter just giggled from her car seat, now installed in the back of the A Klasse.

“She'll be fine Bernie, I'll call when I know what time we'll be back.”
“Thank's for doing this Bern,” I added.
“Its what friends do right, see you later.”

Mum restarted the car and we slowly bounced out of the Preiser's yard.

“Wave to Mummy,” I suggested to the small child in the back.

I waved to her mum through the window before quickly closing the glass, its not pleasant out there. When I looked behind me the miniature Michelin Man was happily playing with her dolly, oblivious to being seperated from her mother.
 
As you know, I'm not a fan of Mum's driving, she can be a bit, shall we say, fast which meant that as soon as we were out of the farm she had the pedal to the metal and I was gripping my seat trying not to show my fear. Its not that she's erratic exactly and to the best of my knowledge she's never had an accident but I prefer more measured progress, especially on the country lanes. We were soon out on the autobahn and chasing a Porsche along lane three north towards Köln, our destination actually in Bruhl.

Our destination turned out to be a small warehouse on one of those typically half built trading estates that every town and village thinks it needs these days.

“You sure this is it?” I queried looking out at the non-descript grey shed.
“Rot Media, these set ups rarely advertise themselves,” Mum opined.
“Whatever, well lets get on with it.”
 
A couple of minutes later, me with the nappy bag and Mum toting the baby seat we stood in the reception area. You'd think they'd have examples of their work on the walls but nada, you'd think it was a council office, all beige and functional. We'd been buzzed in and were now waiting to be 'collected'. There was a buzzing sound and a slightly harried and effiminate young man came through the interior door.

“Gaby Bond?”
“That'd be me,” I suggested raising a hand.
“And this will be?”
“Jenny, her mum.”
“Good morning ladies, no one mentioned a baby.”
“Its a long story,” I suggested.
“Well I'm sure we'll cope, come on through, the team are waiting for us.”
 
Inside we were introduced to 'the team', don't ask me names, I wasn't really taking notice and half their attention was on Drea happily giggling away still. So of course we had to explain why we came bearing a toddler.

“So the only way Bernie could cover for me at the kiosk was if we organised a babysitter,” I told my audience.
“So I volunteered,” Mum put in, “it was rather short notice.”
“Yes, sorry for that,” the pinch faced chap, Hugo I think, in charge stated, “we had a free slot and strike while the irons hot as they say. You've brought the bicycle?”
“Two, a road and the time trial,” Mum agreed, “we weren't sure which one you wanted to use.”
“Good, well lets get started, Sigi, if you want to take Gaby and get started, we'll get set up out here.”
 
I followed Sigi, a chirpy woman of indeterminate age, out into a side room, it looked like a cross between an artists studio and a store room.

“So have you done anything like this before?”
“Modelling? A bit for the tourist board when I was Switzerland last year, apparently Kostüm draped around mountains sells,” I joked.
“Not exactly what we have in mind today,” she observed.
“I brought my racing kit,” I told her.
“How do you feel about body paint?”
“Like face painting? Not really my thing, so what am I wearing?” I enquired looking around for any signs of clothing.
“Maybe i'd best show you.”

She unrolled what turned out to be a printout of what I recognised as a Weltmeisterin skinsuit, all white with the rainbow bands across the chest with the addition of the team logos down the legs and so on. Another roll was tacked up on the wall, I'm guessing the rear view. It could look tacky, all that white but I reckon it looked pretty cool.

“So, what do you think?” Sigi enquired.
“Nice, so where is it?”
“Over there,” she pointed to one of the tables, loaded with tins and stuff.”
“Eh?”
“There isn't an actual suit, we're going to paint you directly with the design.”
“Whoa! Hold on there, no one said anything about being naked.”
“You won't be naked.”
“I'll not exactly have any clothes on will I, ergo I'll be naked!”
She sighed, “i thought you knew, they were supposed to have checked it all out.”
“I didn't even know I was coming until last night, there is no way I'm going out there naked, besides which, Mum'd blow a fuse.”
“What if she didn't know?”
“How could she not?”
“Hang on here for a minute,” Sigi requested before leaving me alone in the room.
 
I don't know whose idea this is but its clearly potty, I mean, naked, everyone'd see my, you know, bits. Sigi came back in with a laptop which she put on the bench.

“Have a look at these.”

'These' were a load of pictures, which after the first few abstracts I realised were actually all examples of the art of body painting. Even what first appeared to be just abstracts were revealled as painted humans in later views. There were a few of stylised costumes and more of what at first glance were fully clothed individuals but Sigi assured me they were painted.

“If we keep your mum from getting too close....? you wear pants and i've got some nipple covers we can use, no one need know.”
“I'll know, why didn't they just get a suit made up?”
“Time? To be sure I couldn't say for certain, you'd be surprised how often we do this sort of thing.”
“Can't say as i've ever seen any.”
“Which means we're doing our job.”

The door opened and Hugo looked in, “how are we doing Sig?”
“Can we do the street clothes first?”
“Okay, thirty minutes.”
 
Well it turns out that its an advert of two parts, basicly they shoot it twice, once with me in street clothes, which turned out to be shorts and a vest top sat atop a town bike. Its all shot with me on a turntable in front of a green screen like they use in the movies. Then I do it all again wearing the 'skin suit' on my time trial bike, apparently they then do all their computer jiggery pokery to put the two together.

Sigi's change to the shooting sequence didn't really make any difference but it did give me a bit longer to decide about the painting. It was gone twelve before we were done with the first set up, Drea, good as she is was getting a bit antsy.

“You could take her for a walk or into town Frau Bond,” Sigi suggested as we consumed the buffet that was to be our lunch.

You sly cow.

“Not a bad idea, what do you think Drea?” Mum asked the fretful toddler.
“There's a childrens farm about a kilometre up the road,” one of the technicians supplied.

It might be a draw for some kids but Drea lives on a farm, still it would get Mum out of the way for a bit.

“You be okay Gab?”
“Course, go on, we'll be done quick as.”

And so the scene was set.
 
“How long's this gonna take?”
“about an hour, its not like a full body job, the last one of those took five hours.”
“Geez!”
“Yeah, then the poor girl had to do six takes diving into the lake.”
“That was that bier ad right? That was body paint?”
“Yep,” she agreed.
“I thought she was wearing a swimsuit.”
 
Talk about weird, the pants were, shall we say brief, they covered everything – just and the nipple things, well it was like having two sticking plasters covering the er bits. Then Sigi fired up what turned out to be an airbrush, I was literally spray painted white, not once but three times. Next up the detail was added, there were stencils for the lettering, a steady hand for the rainbow bands and finally she finished things off with the inference of seams.

With the addition of actual socks, gloves and my cycling shoes I was done and it was time to emerge into the studio, dressed but not dressed. Sigi suggested I just ignore my apparent nakedness, just act like I'm fully dressed, great in theory but in practice... To be fair, none of the crew made any reference to how I wasn't dressed and we just got on with the job in hand.

To be honest I quickly forgot that I was only painted and I soon relaxed, even enjoyed the remainder of the shoot. The technitions had put together a sort of support to hold up the bikes, they assure me that they won't be seen in the final product. Apparently it will look like I'm riding through the countryside, they've been taking me from all sorts of different angles, I'm actually intrigued to see the finished product.

I had hoped Mum would be out with the munchkin a bit longer, i'd be done and dressed and she wouldn't see me in the 'skin' suit. But of course things ran over a bit and it was fresh outside so they returned just as Hugo was checking the last take. I gave them a wave and just prayed she wouldn't come over.

“Okay folks, thats a wrap,” Hugo announced, “thank you Fraulein Bond, you can go put some clothes on now.”

Sigi helped me off the bike and I quickly removed my shoes, you really don't want to walk around on polished concrete with plastic cleats!

“Won't be long Mum,” I called over, “let me get changed and I'll help with the bike.”
“Okay kiddo.”

I quickly followed my painter into the 'dressing' room, closing the door with some relief.

“I thought she was gonna come over, she'd be sure to notice.”
“The goose pimples might give it away, you did very well out there.”
“I sort of forgot about it after a bit.”
“Well I think Hugo is very pleased,” Sigi told me.
“So how do I lose this natty outfit?”
“Its water based, it'll wash off in the shower, there are towels in there,” she pointed to the curtained off corner of the room which presumably housed a Dusche.
“I'd best do it at home, Mum'll smell a rat if I shower here.”
“Okay, up to you, might be best not to wear your bra or good knickers though, if you sweat the paint might transfer and ruin them.”

Bum, I hadn't thought of that, well I guess I can sacrifice the leggings and t shirt if that happens. I quickly pulled on my outside clothes, the paint was well covered at least, trainers on I bunged my other stuff back into my bag and headed outside.
 
“There you are, here you can look after your niece while Michael helps me with your bikes.”
Before I could complain I had Drea in my arms, “er okay.”
I found a seat, toddlers are heavy okay, “did you have fun Drea?”
“Bunnies.”
“You saw the bunny rabbits?”
She nodded her head energetically, “pwitty bunny.”

well at least some people are happy.
 
© Maddy Bell 7.1.2018

 
“That skinsuit was a good fit, looked almost painted on,” Mum opined as we started the journey back to the Ahrtal.
“Er yeah,” I agreed, “quite good.”
“They certainly didn't waste any time getting it made up, they let you keep it?”

Drea gurgled knowingly from the back seat, she couldn't possibly know the truth could she?

“It er ripped when I took it off, it wasn't exactly well made,” I suggested.
“That's a pity, you could've shown your Dad.”

Not flippin' likely, he'd have a coronary! 'oh by the way Dad this is what I wore for the photoshoot, yes it is pretty tight, yeah, second skin tight' – that'd really go down well, he had a hairy fit when he saw my bikini.

“I'm sure there'll be pictures about, they took enough.”
“I guess so, you want to stop off for a burger?”
“What about Drea?”
“She can have one too.”
“You know that's not what I meant.”
“We've got plenty of time, if we stop at Remagen we can straight up the valley to pick Bern up.”
It was tempting, i've not had a Maccy D for ages, “i'd best check that its okay for Drea to have a burger though.”
“I'll take that as a yes then.”
 
I called the kiosk phone, that should get answered.

Lingring, lingring… Lingring, lingring
“Connie's, Nena speaking.”
“Er hi Nen, is Bernie there?”
“Oh hi Gab, sure, I'll get her over, sohow was the modelling?”
“Okay I guess, I'll tell you tomorrow, Bernie?” I hinted.
“She's just coming, see you later.”
I could hear voices in the backgroun”d then what I'm guessing was a reansfer of the handset, “hiya Gab, everything okay, has Drea behaved?”
“She's been fine,had a whale of a time.”
“I was a bit concerned, she threw a tantrum when Mum had her the other day.”
“No she's been quite happy, look we're stopping at Maccy's on the way back, is it alright if she has a burger?”
“I don't think she's ever had one,” Bern sighed, “not exactly in my budget range.”
“We can give it a miss.”
“No, its fine, just a plain one though and no fizzy drinks.”
“Juice?”
“Should be okay.”
“We won't be late, we're nearly at Remagen now.”
“Okay, see you in a bit.”
“Tschuss.”
 
“So what do you want?” Mum enquired as we slowly made our way up to the counter, Drea having insisted on walking in.
I checked the menu boards, “er Royale Menu with cheese?”
“7Up®?”
“Root beer if they've got it,” I requested.
“'kay kiddo, go find a table, you might want to drag a highchair over.”

For her part, Drea was fascinated by the brightly coloured seating and the other children noisily enjoying their visit to Ronald's. There was a free table overlooking the 'garden' which I claimed with a small child before fetching a highchair over. I was still battling to get my charge strapped in when Mum arrived with the commestibles.

“I got Drea a Happy Meal, cheaper than buying the bits,” Mater advised unloading the tray.
“What's the toy?” I asked tucking a serviette under Drea's chin.
“No idea, food first.”
 
Well I guess it was to be expected, whilst Drea can feed herself its not a pretty sight! The burger was mauled and pulled apart and the fries were sucked to death, yeah your typical toddler. She was at least quite happy with it, she wasn't quite sure about the straw in the carton of apple juice so I fetched her cup from the car and transferred the contents.

My Royale, think smaller Big Mac, was delish, I guess there's just something about American style fast food. Somehow when you do it at home it never comes out quite the same, it might be the sauce, or something in the burgers but you can't replicate it. Traditional Frikadel and for that matter burgers back in England are usually 'naked', possibly a bit of cheese which is fine, but sometimes you just want a bit more.

To my chagrin, Mum had a box salad, stealing some of the munchkins pommes, makes you feel a right pig.

“I don't know where you put it all daughter.”
“I didn't have any breakfast.”
“If I ate like you i'd blow up like a balloon.”

As if, Mum's lean to the point of more fat on a carrot, how many mothers do you know who are the same dress size as their teenage daughters? Well not me, I'm smaller but she could wear anything in Jules' wardrobe, not that she does but they're the same size.

Anyhow, we finished up, Drea had, I guess, eaten about half hers, the rest being smeared over the high chair and floor. We cleaned up a bit before gathering our stuff to depart.

“I'll meet you at the car, I need a wee.”
“Don't be too long, it's quarter to.”

Yeah, our stop has taken longer with Drea to sort out so we're a little behind. After the facilities were used, the bodypaint seems to be still staying put, weird, I headed not outside but to the counter.
 
“We're gonna be late,” Mum advised as I slipped into my seat, “what've you got there?”
“Apple pies?”
“I'll let you off, buckle up.”

All was quiet in the back as Jenny 'Schumacher' pointed us up the valley away from Alt Väter Rhein, Drea was investigating the plastic fairy from the Happy Meal, she really has been well behaved today. Even with Mum at the wheel its best part of thirty minutes up to Altenahr, we pulled up to find the girls waiting outside the kiosk.
 
“See you in the morning,” I called out to Con and Kris as we set off on the final leg up to Staffel.
“Laters!”
“So how did you enjoy working at the cabin?” Mum enquired over her shoulder.
“Exhausting,” she sighed, “did this one behave?”
“She's been fine, enjoyed your burger eh spud?”

Drea was oblivious, the plastic toy currently the centre of her universe.

“Here, you'd best have this,” I suggested pushing a Maccy D's bag into the back.
“What's this?” Bern asked.
“Quarter pounder, fries and diet coke oh and an apple pie.”
“But...”
“Well it only seemed right, we've had ours and you said you hadn't been for a while,” I told my friend.
“I wasn't hinting Gab.”
“I know you weren't, my treat okay.”
“Hope Erika hasn't got too much organised for dinner,” Bern mentioned.

I guess the answer to that was moot, we turned into the lane to the farm and bounced along to the Preiser's place. Erika invited us in for coffee but with the rest of the Bond household no doubt awaiting our return, we declined and started back down the mountain.
 
I stripped off and stood in front of my big mirror, I hadn't really seen the painted me at the studio, talk about weird. I turned this way and that, if I squinted a bit it looked like proper clothing, Sigi truly is an artist, although only paint it really looked like material being pulled and stretched under the arms and so on. Maybe the big give away was the zip, or rather lack of, details, details, it still looks amazing.

“Gab, can I borrow your....Gott!” Manda exclaimed.
“Sugar Mand, don't do that! Shut the door,” I told her my hands flying to cover my modesty.
“Is that painted on?”
“Shush!”
“It is isn't it, lets see,” my friend demanded.

Well I guess its not the first time i've been naked in front of her, so i lowered my hands.

“Turn 'round then.”
I made a slow turn before facing her again, “satisfied?”
“Wow, that's well cool!”
“You can't say anything Mand,” I told her wrapping my bathrobe around me.
”Your Mum doesn't know does she?”
“No, and the rents aren't going to find out are they?”
“My lips are sealed, so how do you get it off? You got any pictures?”
“No and the shower, it just washes off.”
“You really should have some pictures, your camera up here?”
“On the shelf, why?”
“Why'd you think dummy,” she replied retrieving my photographic equipment.

Well I guess it would be cool to have some pictures, its not like I'm gonna get painted again is it?
 
After the impromptu photographic session I got Mand to wash off the bits I couldn't see or get to, it made a bit of a mess in the shower – I guess I'll have to clean it properly later.

“So what did you want to borrow?” I asked as I dried myself off.
“Borrow?”
“You wanted to borrow something, before, you know?”
She thought for a moment, “oh right, have you got some black tights I can borrow, I put a hole in my last pair.”
“Er sure, there's a packet in the second drawer.”
“You girls coming?” Dad bellowed up the stairs.
“Coming!” I called back.
 
Well on one hand its good we're eating out, well with the Pingers, on the other hand I did have that burger earlier – bet Mum knew about the Pinger's invite then, no wonder she had salad. I'd be really upset if it was going to be one of Hen's barbeques, now they really are something. It might only be dinner with friends but that doesn't mean a relaxation of the dress code, well a bit, decent jeans would be okay but to be honest I'm more comfortable in a frock, nothing restricting my belly for the food!

“About time,” Dad stated when we clopped downstairs.
I shrugged, “couldn't find my earrings.”
“Did you try your ears?”
“Not these,” I flicked the drops I'd settled on, “Gran's,” I told him.
“Didn't you lend them to your sister?” Mum suggested joining us.
I slapped my forehead, “course, I forgot about that.”
“You do take blonde to a new level sometimes Gab,” Mand opined.
“Hey!” I complained.
“Come on you two, Maria's doing Pork chops, don't want them dried up.”

Given that they'll be sort of casseroled that's unlikely but I guess we don't want to be too late.
 
© Maddy Bell 11.1.2018

It all felt a bit strange, it seems like forever since I've worn my Kabin 'uniform', well its not a uniform as such, apart from the shirt embroidered with 'Con's Kabin' on the chest Therese had done. Leggings and a cropped cardi, trainers et voila, I'm ready for a day flipping würst and cooking pommes. A quick twist and clip and my hair's sorted, guess its time to shake a leg.

Being Sunday we don't open so early, ten o'clock, so after a quick breakfast I sorted myself out and went to find the Schauff.

“You riding up kiddo?” Dad queried.
“Yeah, thought I should make some effort, i've not touched a bike to ride all week.”
“Things'll calm down, won't hurt you to have a bit of a break.”

His comment did little to assauge my guilt, maybe the ride up the valley will.

“What are you up to?”

For once Dad didn't have bike tools in his hands.

“I need to fix that fence post up at the top then I'm taking your Mother out for lunch.”
“Anywhere nice?”
“Might go over to Bad Honnigen, they do a mean steak at the Alte Fähre,” he advised.

I'm not a big steak fan, it can be a bit hit and miss on how they turn up, I want it cooked not bloody or charcoal!

“Well enjoy it, think I'll be having Frites.”
“You'll get fat,” he chortled, "you might want a jacket, its cool outside, they were talking frost on the radio.”
“I guess summer's over, I'll get my jacket.”

 
It felt, well strange, riding my 'school' bike, the whole dynamic is so different to my race bikes. Its not just the weight but riding position and balance – I nearly fell off when I stood up to set off! I cautiously headed up the lane to Rech where I picked up the bike track up the valley, soon I was bowling along, glad of my down jacket as there was indeed a bit of frost in the sheltered edges.

I suppose I could've come up with Con and her dad in the van with the bread but I need the exercise and a few minutes on my own at the kiosk isn't a bad idea, I need to make sure nothings been moved! The trail is only a slight uphill to the top end of Maychoß where it gets a bit steeper before tackling the climb past the TanzKlub and up to the tunnel. Well I got to the Klub before giving up, I can get up the hill on the Schauff but lack of practice had me grinding to a halt on the steepest section.

Hopefully no one will see me, I mean its embarrasing, double World Champion and I'm reduced to pushing my bike up a hill. Well its Sod's law isn't it, I heard approaching voices behind me as I laboured up, the familiar sound of gears being changed had me glance behind. A bunch of club riders, but not just any, it was Hen and his mates from the Ahrtal Radsport, just my luck.

“Gaby!” Hen called out.
“Morning guys,” I replied with a smile.
“You at the Kabin?” Hen asked as he came alongside.
“On my way,” I allowed.
“See you later then,”
“'kay, have a good ride guys.”

There were several waves and I stopped my progress to watch them smoothly climb up into the tunnel. Well it could be worse I guess, no one's taking photos! I pushed my steed into the hotel drive before stepping through the frame and pushing off to complete the climb.

 
It was like a freezer in the kiosk, the morning rime decorating the exterior and coating the stack of tables and chairs in the garden. Once inside I turned on the fryer and hotplate to get some warmth going before starting the rest of the pre opening chores. Bike in the bin shed, shutters open, drag the sign outside, only then did the coffee go on although I kept my coat on to do the till.

I was sipping a second cup of coffee when the door was flung open.

“Morning Gab, grab these, I'll fetch the tray,” Con instructed.
I took the bag of Brötchen from her, “coffee?”
“Oo, yes please,” Nena told me coming through the portal.
“Hi Nen,” I allowed, opening the bin for the rolls.
Seeing me with the bread she headed for the machine, “i'll do it, you want another?”
I shouldn't really but it is still cold in here, “yeah go on.”

Con came back in followed by her dad with the tray of torte.

“You want me to do the tables?” he offered.
“We can manage, thanks Dad.”
“Well have a good day girls, see you later.”
“Bye,” we chorused.

He departed, pulling the door closed behind him.

“Maybe it'll warm up in here now,” I opined.
“You are such a wuss Bond,” Nena replied as she took off her jacket.
“You got the 'plate on Gabs?” Con queried.
“Yeah, look sorry about yesterday, was Bern okay?”
“She was fine, by the time we closed she had the till sussed.”
“Bern was here?” Nena asked returning from hanging up her stuff in the back room.
“She was covering for Gab.”
“Why for?”
“I had to go do some modelling for Apollinaris, I only found out Friday night.”
“The lives of the rich and famous,” she chortled.
“Hardly,” I shot back.
“Oh come on Gab,” Con put in, “maybe not rich but you are famous, you've been in the papers, on TV, famous in my book.”
“If you say so,” I allowed with a roll of the eyes, I'm not gonna win the argument so I might as well acquiess.

 
Our first customers were waiting for us to open five minutes before we were due, regulars according to Nen, so we opened the window and got the day started. I guess there are some things you never forget, riding a bike for example and cooking Frites is, for me, the same. Well its not rocket science but you do need to know how to do it right and doing it right, does take some skill.

It might be a few weeks since I did a shift but I was soon back in the swing of things. Maybe it didn't need three of us, well first thing at least, but it did mean I was able to slip back into the routine more easily than being swamped. There was something different about it today though, a different feeling to back in the summer.

“Everything okay Gab?” Con enquired in a lull late morning.
“Er yeah, just thinking,” I turned and wiped my hands, “its not the same is it?”
“What isn't?”
“This, us.”
“What are you on about? Nothings changed.”
“Maybe not with the kiosk itself, but we have, you go to college in Mayen, me in Koblenz...”
“You're Weltmeisterin,” she added.
“Exactly, we're not the same people Con.”
“I guess,” she agreed.

It dawned on me then, the real difference. Back over the summer we were here every day, it was what we did but now its, well not a hobby exactly but not our main thing either. Its not that its less important per se, but its slipped in the pecking order, it was top of the list and its been replaced by our renewed studies.

Oh I know. for me, the cycling has always been up there, how could it not be, its just that when it was just kiosk and bike I could cope with both fairly easily. However, throw in college, reduce the kiosk time and suddenly its all changed, no surprise then that I feel like the Saturday girl at the bakery again. Maybe its less so for Connie and the others, but for me, its different.

“So, is lover boy coming,” Nena enquired a bit later on.
“Eh?”
She sighed, “Max?”
“Oh, er i don't think so, he never said anything on Friday.”
“Of course, you see him everyday at college.”
“Well not exactly at college.”
“You know what I mean.”
“You can be a bit pedantic Gab,” Con put in joining the conversation.

Accuracy is important. The sound of squealing bike brakes halted the discussion as Hen and co arrived for a post ride coffee.

 
I had thought that i'd be able to catch up with the others but whilst they seemed to know what was going on with me, I never really got more than the vaguest replies to my own questions. Its not that they were avoiding the answers, more that, I dunno, it wasn't the time or place.

“We should all get together, you know, compare notes and stuff,” I suggested as we started the day's clean up, ”i've not seen Bridg and Steff for ages.”
“You keep galivanting off,” Connie pointed out.
“I should be home until December,” I offered in defence.
“What's happening in December?” Nena enquired.
“Apart from the Weihnachtsmarkt,” Con added.
“We've got a training camp, Dad's on about the Alps. I'd forgotten about the market, we still doing that?”
“Course,” Nen advised, “i guess we should get everyone together to get things organised.”
“Boxxie wanted the school to be involved,” Con noted.
“So we need a meeting then,” Nena surmised.

Okay its not exactly what i'd envisioned but I'll at least get to see everyone.

“I can talk to the guys, where and when?”
“I'll talk to Pia,” Nen suggested, we can probably use the Stube.”
“What about Boxberg?” I asked.
“Lets get ourselves organised first,” Con suggested.
“Would it be okay if Bernie helped?”
“Can't see a problem, Manda did it last year,” Nen pointed out.
“I'll see if they want to do it then.”

 
“You want to come back for dinner?” Con enquired.
“I've got my bike.”
“It'll go in the van.”
“Aren't you dropping Nena off?”
“Bum, yeah, you could still come?”

But that means riding home then going out again, on the other hand, maybe we can talk, I really miss getting together with Con. Don't get me wrong, I'm still tight with the others, well I think I am, but Con, well she's my BF, I used to be at the bakery all the time, I can't remember when I last went for more than some bread.

I'm not supposed to be cooking or anything am I? Don't think so, Mand's got a shift at Der Mühle, the olds are out galivanting.

“Go on then, I'll drop my bike off then come straight round.”
“Cool, think mum's doing Stroganoff.”

If she'd said that before I wouldn't've hesitated, Frau T's a dab hand at foreign food and her Strogonoff is legendary.

 
And so my return to the catering profession ended much as it started, with me traversing the Ahrtal on my Schauff. Of course, its easier and faster going down, this mornings frostiness replaced by a gathering coolness and a certain dampness in places. I was certainly glad of my jacket, gloves would've been a good idea, we can all do hindsight, I seem get caught out by the weather every year!

There were a lot more people about than this morning, I say a lot, there were a few dog walkers, a couple of joggers and I passed Herr Stiependorf, one of the Lions, making his way up valley on his mountain bike. Smiles were exchanged, waves given, it felt good to be alive.

With gravity assist I quickly dropped through Mayschoß, around the loop and down to Rech. When I got to the lane to the Schloss I did of course look that way – well Max might have been outside. Well okay it was a bit improbable, I turned up toward the main road and five minutes later I was in the garage at home.

In theory it was a park and go but I'm pretty sure I stink of Frites, Würst and maybe, just maybe, a bit of perspiration so I hurried up into the house for a shower and change of togs. By the time I was clean and dressed twenty minutes had ticked by, five more had passed by the time I found a bottle of red to gift my dinner hosts, I doubt Dad'll notice its missing. I locked up and gave a shiver as I stepped out into the cooling evening, maybe a skirt wasn't the best choice after all.

 
© Maddy Bell 14.1.2018

 
Of course, the Bäckerie was closed, it is close on six on Sunday afternoon after all, I headed instead to the side door and rang the bell.

The intercom crackled, “its open.”

I pushed the door, entered and carefully shut it behind me before heading through to the stairs up to the family apartment.

“Come on up Gab,” a disembodied voice urged.

Well its not like i've not been before is it, I climbed the stairs, to be greeted by Con at the top.

“You changed.”
“I smelt of Pommes.”
She sniffed at her own sleeve, “hmm, maybe I need to change too.”
“I brought this,” I told her offering the bottle of vino.
“Mu-um, Gabs brought wine!” Con yelled towards the kitchen.
“You don't have to shout,” Therese opined wiping her hands on her apron as she joined us, “hi Gaby, you didn't have to bring anything, you know you're always welcome.”
I shrugged, “just seems a bit one sided.”
“We don't keep score you know, but thank you anyhow, come on through, Thomas is in the lounge.”
“I'm gonna get changed mum,” Con supplied.
“Well don't be long, food's nearly ready.”
“'kay!”

“Did I hear mention of vino?” Herr Thesing queried as his wife led me into the lounge
“Gaby's brought a bottle.”
“Best let it breath a bit then,” Mr T suggested standing up.
“Take your coat off Gab, don't stand on ceremony,” Therese told me as I handed off the bottle.
 
“So Gaby,” Thomas Thesing started, “how are you finding college, bit different to Silverberg eh?”

We were sat around the dining table, Frau T ferrying plates of food from the kitchen as her Mann poured the wine.

“You can say that again, I have to leave before seven.”
“I thought I saw you the other morning,” Therese mentioned.
“You catching the train?” Mr T queried.
“I told you dad,” Con interrupted, “she gets a lift.”
“Freddies brother, Olaf takes us in then its the train home,” I supplied.
“He work down there?” Frau T asked.
“Something to do with planning, in the Landesamt.”
“Talk later,” Therese suggested, joining us at the table.

As predicted, it was beef Strogonoff, if you've never had it you don't know what you're missing. Whenever I've tried it the sauce sort of separates but Therese manages to get a gloriously smooth, creamy sauce every time. Button mushrooms, linguini and nuggets of meat – hmm, delish and there's always plenty on the plate.

“Prost!” Herr T offered raising his glass, “the future.”
The rest of us raised our own glasses, “the future!”

Its a sort of unwritten rule that conversation stops to eat at Thesing's table, fine by me, I prefer my food hot, its often a free for all at home so you can end up with less than warm comestibles. I ate with relish, hmm wonder what it'd be like with a dash of Hendo's, even so I was behind the others in clearing my plate.

“More anyone?” Therese offered, “there's coconut and lime torte for dessert.”

Hmm, one or the other really, the Strogonoff is quite filling, has to be the torte.
 
The torte was spot on, neither too much coconut which can be a bit soapy or too sharp with the lime. Well you wouldn't expect less really, the family do run a bakery after all. Once the table was cleared, Con and I were able to escape to her room with our coffee.

“Sorry about Dad.”
“No prob, its the first time since Canada i've not been grilled about being Weltmeisterin.”
“How's that going?”
“I can't believe all the attention, it wasn't like this last year.”
“But last year you weren't 'our' Weltmeisterin,” she pointed out, “in case you hadn't noticed, apart from football we aren't the most successful country at sport.”
“What about Schummie?”
“Proves my point, he's so famous because we have so few stars, how is it? We try hard but could do better.”
“I guess, I suppose the Brits are disproportionate winners.”
“So how was the modelling yesterday?”
“Weird,” I admitted, “i thought it would just be some dressing up and snap a few pics.”
“It wasn't? Don't tell me you had to dance or something?”
“No nothing like that, it was just weird.”
“Oh come on Gab, don't leave me hanging,” Con demanded.
“This goes no further right?”
“Ooo, secrets!”
“I'm serious.”
“Okay, I promise, so spill.”
“Put your laptop on,” I proposed pulling the memory card from my camera from my skirt pocket, “Mand took these when I got home.”
 
“So you wore one of those skinsuit things, so what, I thought you did that all the time?”

She'd flicked through the first couple of pictures, showing me stood in my eyrie to all intents and purposes, naked.

“Go to the next one, you might need to blow it up a bit,” I suggested.

She clicked the arrow and the next picture, a head and shoulders came up.

“So its you.”
“Zoom it in.”
“Its you but bigger.”
“Scroll down a bit, look at the suit.”
“What am I looking for? Oh!”
“Exactly,” I stated.
“So if this isn't a suit....” she trailed off as the grey cells made the connections.
“There isn't a suit, its paint.”
She flicked back to the previous body shot, “i can't see anything, you know, down there.”
“I did have knickers on, see,” I pointed to the faint line of the knickers waistband.
“What about your,” she pointed to my chest.
“Some of those stick on things.”
“Do your rents know?”
“No, and they're not going to, i'd be grounded forever.”
“They'll see the ads or whatever though?”
“It'll all be digitalised or something, no one'll know.”
“Heard that before, did they paint anything else on you Eve?”
“Shush! No, the other stuff was real clothes.”
“So why, you know?”
I slipped the memory out of her machine, “they couldn't get a suit made in time.”
“So when do we see this masterpiece?”
“No idea, soon I guess. Promise you won't tell anyone?”
“I said didn't I, cross my heart.

My 'naked' photoshoot pretty much trumped the rest of the conversation, it was pretty clear after a few minutes that talking about college stuff was pointless. Well not pointless exactly but neither of us had the reference points to make much sense of stuff so we had to keep it to generalisations. I guess this is how it will be, without common experience our conversations will be a bit limited.
 
“You girls watching Tatort?” Frau T asked poking her head around the door.
“Gab?” Con queried.
“I haven't seen that for ages.”
“Its only just started a new season,” Con told me.
“Make that a yes then,” I grinned.

Tatort is of course a German cop show, like most of the ilk the storylines are quite transparent and very predictable. That's part of the attraction I guess, we take delight in predicting the outcomes, invariably we aren't far off the mark. Oh, and it doesn't hurt that a couple of the 'cops' are easy on the eye if, in my experience, unlikely upholders of law and order.
 
“Thanks for dinner Therese.”
“No problem Gaby, you know your welcome.”
“Especially when you bring alcohol,” her husband opined from the lounge.
“Nite Herr Thesing,”
“Goodnight Gaby.”
“Hopefully I'll see you in the week,” Con mentioned.
“Yeah and good luck with the first aid.”
“I need it.”

Before she can start any placements for her course she has to get some first aid qualifications. I guess it makes sense, I'm just glad there's no hidden stuff like that with my Business course. More divergence of our experience, maybe I should do a course to keep up, or not!
 
“There you are,” Mum stated.
“I did leave a note,” I pointed out, “so you guys have a nice day?”
“Not bad kiddo, nice lunch then we had a walk through the woods to that brewery above Linz.”
“Steffens or something?”
“That's the place, we were going to go on the train but it wasn't running today. So you have a good day?”
“Not bad, it was quite busy I guess.”
“Bet it felt strange, you've not been for a while.”
“Yeah, where's Dad?”
“Gone to fetch Manda, should be back any time.”
“Cocoa?”
“Hmm, I could be convinced.”
 
I was just getting into bed when my Handy started trilling.
“Bond.”
“Heya Gab.”
“Thought you might've stopped by today.”
“Soz, Dad's had me painting again.”
“Its like the Forth Bridge that place."
“Forth Bridge?”
“Its like this big bridge in Schottland, they finish painting it then have to start the other end again.”
“Ah, I see what you mean, yeah, there's always stuff to do.”
“So you up for the Weihnachtsmarkt this year?”
“That's a bit off the wall.”
“We were talking earlier, its not that far away.”
“I guess.”
“So why the call? I'll see you in the morning.”
“I know, just ringing to say goodnight really.”
“You daft lump,” I sighed.
“Hey, I resemble that.”

Okay, it got mushy after that, I finally closed the call thirty minutes later.
 
And so the day ended, is this gonna be the new 'normal' Sunday? work at the kiosk then dinner and Tatort at the Thesing's. Well for a few weeks anyhow, the New Year will be different, Lisbet has inferred that I can do my first placement at the kiosk so I'll do two days in Koblenz and three at Altenahr. To be honest, I think it suits the college well, one less student to place, well it works for me so I'm not complaining.
 
© Maddy Bell 14.1.2018

 
“Anyone else coming?” Steff asked over the various conversations taking place in the Sebenschuh's Stube.

I looked around the assembly of Ahrtal teens, apart from the original Angels, well Bridg, Nena, Pia, Steff, Connie and me, Mand is here along with Max, Freddy and Mart. No Ralf of course, he's persona non grata after that stuff with the drugs. What we do have though are three nervous girls that Boxxie has sent along, our 'trainees'.

Yesterday, Monday, it was mad with SMS's, I swear I had about thirty before lunch and then of course I had to ring Frau Boxberg. Why me I don't know, leastways none of my 'friends' were volunteering so muggin's here got the job. That went well.

“Ah, my favourite pupil, Gaby Bond, to what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Er hi Frau Boxberg, you wanted to know what we, you know, me and the girls, are doing for the Weihnachtsmarkt?”
My former headmistress sighed, “is it that time again already? I swear the year is getting shorter. So Fraulein Bond, lay it on me.”
“Well we're having a meeting tomorrow evening to, you know plan what's happening if you can make that?”
“I've got a PTA meeting but how about if my 'volunteers' come along?”
Phew, thats a close escape, “er yeah, I guess that'd work.”
“So, time? Place?”
“The Sebenschuh's place, twenty one or thereabouts.”
“They'll be there, I'll tell them to ask for you.” Boxxie proposed.
“Er okay, how many will be coming?”
“Just three, that alright?”
“Yeah, thats fine,” I agreed.
“So Gaby Bond, Weltmeisterin, how are you finding college?”

I'm glad Lisbet let me use the college phone in her office, I was on the phone for nearly half an hour!
 
“Don't think so,” Pia opined, “we should get started.”
“Someone should take notes,” Nen suggested.
“Nicely volunteered,” Freddy chuckled.
“So do we know where we are and that?” Mart queried.
“Stall thirty eight,” Steff advised, the Commitee needed a contact and she is it, “i think its the same place as last year.”
“You got a plan amongst that lot?” Bridg asked.
“Hang on, yeah, here we go, I'll pass it around.”
“Thats okay, we can use the same stuff as last year,” Max opined.
“Are we doing the same stuff?” Mand enquired, she might not be a full Angel but she did her share last year.
“The Mittelalter stuff?” Pia supplied.
“Well I'm not being an elf again,” I told those assembled.
“Aw, and you were so cu...”
“Don't you dare Connie Thesing!” I cut in.

Of course that got some giggles and I got a hug from Max so it wasn't all bad.

“We could do something else,” Nen proposed.
“Like what?” Steff requested.
“I dunno, Engel?”
“What about the lads?” I asked.
“There are male Engel,” Nen suggested.
“Well I'm not wafting around in a dress,” Freddy opined.
“Oh I don't know, I think you'd look lovely,” Bridg mentioned with a chuckle.
“Seriously guys,” Steff cut in, “anything else, what about our new recruits, any suggestions girls?”

They were like three rabbits caught in headlights, I'm not sure whether they did actually volunteer or whether Boxxie 'assigned' them but so far all we'd got out of them were names, Paula, Frannie and Marguerite.

“Erm, Kostum?” Frannie offered in not much more than a whisper.
“We don't bite,” Con advised.
“Not until the full moon,” Max chuckled.
“Max, you're not helping,” I noted.
“Sorry Liebchen.”
“Anything else?” Steff hinted, there being no other suggestions she went on, “so its either Kostum or Mittelalter.”
“We'lve already got the Mittelalter clothes,” Bridg offered.
“We'll need more,” I pointed out.
“Who's got Kostum?” Mand enquired.

Surprisingly two of our newbies put their hands up, so by the numbers, there was nothing in it, we'd need three costumes whichever way we decide.

“Hey Mart,” Freddy started, “what about your girlfriend, she joining us?”
“Bern? Dunno, I can ask.”

For some reason that conjured up images of not Bern but Drea dressed in Kostum, now that would be cute!

“We should vote on it,” Pia told us.
 
The vote was split straight down the middle with the girls however the lads unanimously went for Kostum. Well I guess that's that, it is a bit more 'user friendly' than floor length frocks and silly headresses and I guess its no secret that I don't have an aversion to wearing it.

“I'll ask Papa where he got our uniforms,” P told us.
“Maybe we can get a discount,” Bridg suggested.
“Well it is for charity,” Steff mentioned.
“What about other stuff? Can we borrow the coffee machine from your Dad again Pia?”
“He's already offered Gab, we gonna do the same stuff, cake and coffee?”
“Dad said we can use the bakery again.”
“It would be easiest, it worked well last year,” Nen said with a nod.
“We still doing the gift collection thing?” Freddy asked.
“Unless anyone's got a better idea?” Steff queried.

Just in case you forgot, the whole Weihnachtsmarkt stall thing started off to raise funds and collect gifts for the local Kinder Haus, well to make Weihnachts a bit better for the kids staying there.

“What about a Tombola,” Mand suggested.
“A what?” Max enquired.
“You know,” I put in, “we get some prizes then people buy tickets to try to win a prize.”
“Sounds complicated,” Con mentioned.
“It was just an idea, its quite popular in England.”
“Maybe the Ahrtal isn't ready for such glorious ideas,” Mart snickered.
“Perhaps we should keep things simple,” Steff agreed.
 
Its quite a big project but our previous experience meant that jobs were quickly allocated – the lads will sort out the décor (no doubt dragging parents and other rels in to help, the fairer sex are less hands on until we open. That doesn't mean we don't have stuff to do, the costumes, organising the menu, sorting out the rota – important jobs but more fitting for our delicate hands than wielding a paint brush.

“You guys okay with that?” I asked our recruits as we tidied up the light supper the Sebenschuh's had supplied.
“I guess,” Frannie replied, “you guys are really organised.”
“We've had practice,” I noted.
“Even so,” Marguerite added, “we wouldn't know where to start.”
“I hope you don't mind me asking Gaby, but is Max really your boyfriend?” Paula queried.
“Yup, paid up number one fan,” Max supplied joining us and planting a kiss on the top of my head, “i'll take that through.”
“Guess thats a yes then,” Frannie giggled.
“Is Marty free?” Paula went on.
“Weren't you listening,” Marguerite put in, “he's got a girlfriend already.”
“And a daughter,” I added to quell any further pursuit, geez thats all we need, man hungry fifteen year olds!
Pia interrupted us, “girls, your lift's here.”
“So I'll see you at the kiosk on Saturday then.”
“We'll be there,” Frannie, the more mature of the three advised.
“Okay, tschuss.”

The kiosk? Well being responsible 'employers' our new recruits need some training before the market. Its not like we'll be actually cooking at the market but it won't hurt to go through some general hygiene and serving stuff and better at the kiosk than waiting until the market kicks off.
 
“Well?” Steff asked once they'd gone.
“They seem to be up for it,” I allowed.
“I sense a but,” Steff suggested.
“I think Paula has raging hormones, she's already made a play for Max and Mart.”
“Maybe we should warn Freddy?”
“Might be fun not to?”
“You are wicked sometimes Bond.”
“All the time,” Mand noted, “you ready Gab?”
“You walking back Steff?”
“I came on my Mofa, I can give someone a lift?”
“Ooh, me, me!” my housemate requested.
 
“You don't have to walk us,” I told Max as we set off.
“What sort of man would let two lovely ladies walk home alone?”
“Blehhhhh!” Con supplied, “you mean you fancy a snog.”
“If the opportunity comes up eh Gab?”
“In your dreams.”

I'm not entirely against the idea but a girl has to play hard to get right?

“Argh, I'm wounded,” he joked.
“So why'd you vote for Kostum Max?” Con asked.
“Yeah, you looked good in those tights last year,” I added.
“Not exactly warm in December though and those short things...”
“Wimp!” Con stated with glee.
“I'll remember that when you complain I'm not in a dress.”
“You guys are used to it,” he offered.
“Ha! Maybe we'll have to get you in a Dirndl, to 'get used to it',” Con chuckled.
“Don't think he's got the chest for it Con,” I giggled.
“I am still here.”

We collapsed into a gigglefest, well we thought it was funny.
 
“So what are you wearing on Saturday night?” Max asked when he came up for air.
“Saturday?”
“Hallowe'en at Mart's?”
“Oh sugar, but that's not until next week.”
“True but the party is Saturday, no college next day!”
“Damn!”
 
“Why didn't you say anything?” I asked Mand when I got indoors.
“About what?” she asked innocently.
“Party? Saturday?” I suggested grabbing my cup of cocoa.
“It is on the calendar,” she told me.
“I've been a bit preoccupied,” I offered in my defence.
 
© Maddy Bell 18.1.2018

 
“You could wear that skinsuit from Saturday,” Mand suggested as I snuggled down next to Mum on the sofa.
“I told you, it didn't survive the shoot,” I replied, looking daggers at her.
“What's this?” Mater enquired.
“Party at the Preiser's Saturday,” Mand supplied, “Gab hasn't got a costume yet.”
“Amongst that lot upstairs? You must have something kiddo.”
“I guess.”
“There's no guessing about it,” Dad put in, “you must have hundreds of dresses up there.”
“Mu-um, tell him,” I whined.
“Well you do have more than me,” she pointed out ruffling my hair.
“But I need a costume for hallowe'en, not a party dress.”
“You must have something,” Mum noted, “what are you going as to this do Manda?”
“Zombie nurse.”
“There you go kiddo, I'm sure you'd make a good zombie,” Dad opined.
“Da-ad!” I complained.
“Talking of costumes, have you got your dress for the concert finished?”
“Yes Mum, I just need to get some hose.”
“You've got a draw full,” Mand suggested.
“I've seen some with a pattern that'll set the dress off and make me look less like a dwarf.”
“How are they gonna do that?” Mand demanded behind a grin.
“Huh! you'll see.”
 
I lay in bed contemplating my options for the weekend. Hallowe'en at the Preiser's has always been something special, everyone makes a big effort with the costumes, remember last year, I did that Day of the Dead thing with the sequins? Maybe I peaked too soon, after that most stuff will seem pretty lame and i've not left myself much time to sort anything.

What have I got in the cupboard? I mentally went through the 'fancy dress' costumes, when I thought about it there aren't actually that many, not full outfits. I know the ones from England are in there somewhere, but whilst I might have not grown up, I have grown in other directions so they're out. I might be able to reprise my Harry Potter outfit, or not, I don't have any of that uniform type stuff now.

Go uber Goth maybe? Bit predictable, pretty much everyone knows about Strawberry now, hmm, there must be something. Something yes, but nothing that came to mind right now, I closed my eyes and quickly fell asleep.
 
“So, Saturday,” I opened, “what are you going as?”
“Ah, that'd be telling,” von Strechau replied.
“You don't know,” I accused.
“Not true, it'll be a surprise.”
“Hmmph!”
“What about you?”
“I'll think of something,” I sighed.
“You do a good elf.”
“For hallowe'en?”
“Zombie elf?”
I playfully slapped him upside his head, “you can be so daft.”
“But loveable,” he countered.
“I was thinking infuriating actually.”
“So we meeting later?” Max enquired.
“I've got some shopping to do.”
“After?”
I shrugged, “i guess, I'll send you an SMS lunchtime.”
“'Kay, later.”

I got a less than romantic peck on the cheek and he was off to catch up with the departing figure of Freddy.
 
To be honest, I was somewhat preoccupied as I sat through my lectures, oh I was following things, making notes but my mind kept wandering to Saturday's gathering and my lack of costume. At this rate I really will be going sans costume, everything I came up with was either too elaborate, lame or, well, unsuitable on some level. Indeed I was no nearer when I left college to go meet Max after lunch.

I made a beeline for the Karstadt, one thing I am certain of, I want those tights for the concert. Back in England, not that as Drew i used to make a habit of looking but essentially most hosiery departments stock plain hose, shades of black and skintone in various denier and thats it, full stop. Here in Germany, there'll be different brands, colours, patterns, there'll be more leg wear than you can imagine!

I saw these particular tights last week when I was coming through but it still took me five minutes to find them on the shelf, having been shunted about to make way for a display of 'seasonal' ie hallowe'en leg coverings. Then I had a lightbulb moment, i've been over thinking this costume thing, I grabbed a second packet of hose then set about gathering some other supplies. It didn't take long, the store had plenty of stuff for next week, I even scored a cheap costume, okay its a kids size 160cm, but I reckon for fifteen euros its worth a pop.
 
“Buying the place up?” Max suggested when he eventually turned up in the Dinea.
“Just a few odds and ends,” I offered, “we eating?”
“Sure, what do you want, I'll fetch it.”

Phew, my purse is running a bit light after my spree downstairs.

“Erm, the Rindrouladen if they have it, otherwise do me a plate from the buffet?”
“'kay, drink?”
“Sprite please.”
“I'll let you get some cutlery, won't be long.”

Well I suppose I can't complain, I'm getting lunch bought for me after all.
 
The set meals are always good value, the buffet you pay by weight which can work out expensive if you aren't careful. Anyhow, a few minutes later Max appeared pushing one of those multi tray trolley things – ooh, he's got cake too and a bowl of salad. I helped him unload everything then disposed of the trolley.

“What's the occasion then?”
“Does there need to be one?”
“Suppose not,” I conceded.
“You fed me all summer so I'm just returning the thought.”
“I wasn't running a tab,” I pointed out, “i'd probably have had something myself if you hadn't been there.”
“Well it still felt like I was spongeing, I got you Spätzle, the potato looked a bit past it.”
“I like Spätzle,” I opined digging into the salad bowl, hey, I can do green stuff if I like.

Conversation dropped off for a few minutes as we made short work of the hot food, true to form Max had Jäger Schnitzel with chips.

“So you sorted your costume then?” Max asked before shovelling more fried potato into his maw.
“Pretty much.”
“So what're you going as?”
“That'd be telling, what are you going as?”
“Told you last night, its a surprise.”
“I guess there'll be a few surprises on Saturday then,” I allowed with a smirk.
 
After dinner I sidled into the kitchen where Mum had the ironing board out and a pile of Mum and Dad laundry.

“Mummy?”
“What are you after?”
“Who said I was after anything?”
“You did, you never call me Mummy unless you're after something, so what is it?”

Bum, I'll have to come up with a new ploy.

“So you know Saturday?”
“Ye-es,” she replied cautiously as she pushed the iron over Dad's shirt.
“Well i've sort of got a costume but it needs altering?”
She sighed, “go on, I'm listening.”
“Well it needs letting out a bit?”
“Letting out?”
“Well its a kids costume, it fits most places but there's nowhere for these,” I indicated my chest.
“Sounds like more than a bit of letting out.”
I slumped a bit, “could you have a look, please?”
She shook her head, “go on then, I'll come up when i've finished these, I'm not promising anything mind.”
“Thanks Mum,” I gave her a quick hug before scampering up to my eyrie.
 
It was close on fifteen minutes before Mum arrived in my attic armed with her tape measure. I was already down to my bra and pants so I squirmed as best I could into the costume. Okay I can get into it but its like a sausage skin, my boobs are squashed almost flat – not exactly sightly or comfortable.

“Didn't they have the next size?”
“Only if I wanted to be a pink princess.”
“It would've saved time,” she sighed.
“But it'd hardly be suitable for hallowe'en would it?”
“I don't know, you could start a new trend.”
“Mu-um, I'm nearly seventeen, I don't do Disney Princess.”
“Well not since you were small anyhow, I don't know what I'm doing here anyway, you should be doing it yourself.”
“I can't i've no idea what to do,” I reminded her.
“Maybe you should learn.”
“But you're so good at it.”
“Come on then, lets see what we can do.”
 
“Hmm, how's that?” Mum asked tugging at the top of the costume.
“Its a bit tight across the top.”
“I've let it out as much as I can, they're not exactly generous with the material.”
“You'd think you'd get more for fifteen euros,” I giggled.
Mum just rolled her eyes, “so is that it, you don't want me to make a ball gown out of a minidress?”
“Well...”

She gave me the look, you know the one, all parents use it, the 'don't push your luck' look.

“Thanks Mum, you're a lifesaver.”
“Don't know about that, so how are you getting up to Staffel?”
“Well....”
“I'll ask your Dad, you might want to run the iron over that before Saturday.”

Bum, use another domestic skill I suck at, I usually trade the ironing with Mand in exchange for doing her cooking rota, maybe I should take a crash course sometime? I can't do that this time without letting the cat out of the bag of course so it looks like I'll be playing with hot things tomorrow.

“Yes Mum.”
“You making the cocoa?” she suggested as she started down the stairs.
“Once i've hung this up.”
“And put some clothes on I hope.”

Well duh! Okay there was that one time and I did have underwear on.

“Yes Mum, clothes.”
 
© Maddy Bell 19.1.2018

“I'll pick you up at nine then,” Dad confirmed as I put my jacket on.
“You know where it is?”
“I'll find it kiddo,” he told me, “we'll see you later.”

I slung my college bag over my shoulder, stuffed today with a change of clothes and footwear, and headed out into the grey morning. What's going on? Well after college me and Max are going up to Bonn for a rehearsal with Blau Hase, well not Max, me obviously, he's coming as chaperone and moral support. I'm pretty sure Dad, well both my parents, are a bit concerned about the whole thing but they've not said anything directly.

Well you didn't think I was just gonna turn up at the Rheinhalle next week and sing did you? Of course the guys practice all the time, I don't play an instrument so its not a requirement for me but we still need to go through the set. Oh and Stefan says they've got some new stuff for me to sing, talk about weight on your shoulders.
 
“Everything sorted?” Max enquired once the Olaf taxi was on its way.
“Yep, Dad'll bring us back after.”
“You sure about this Gab?”
Not Max too, “i've done it before remember?”
“Yeah I know but this is more serious, people are paying to see you.”
“They paid at Moselfest,” I pointed out.
“Not the same and you know it.”

Okay, so they were mostly there to see Status Quo and I wasn't even supposed to be singing.

I shrugged but I'm not going to admit anything, to be honest I'm wetting my knickers, well figuratively that is.
 
“Good luck later,” Olaf called after me as I climbed from the car.
“Thanks, think I'll need it.”
“You'll be alright, see you tomorrow.”
“Yeah, if I survive,” I joked shutting the door.
 
“You alright Gaby?” Lisbet enquired as we filed out of the lecture theatre.
“Yeah fine.”
“You don't look fine and you were miles away yesterday.”
“I was?”
“You were, coffee?”

Hmm, lets see, machine in the common room or freshly brewed in Lisbet's office, no contest.

“Yes please.”
“Come on then,” she grinned, “you can work your magic on my machine.”

There had to be a catch.
 
A few minutes later we were ensconced in the relatively comfy environs of Frau Olafsdottir's office nursing mugs of the brown stuff.

“So, what's got you so distracted this week?”
I shrugged, “nothing really.”
“Come on Gaby, somethings up, boyfriend?”

Well of course the coffee was gonna come at a cost, as Dad says, you never get anything for nothing.

I sighed, “no, nothing like that, its just a busy week.”
“Busier than usual?”
“You could say that,” I allowed.
 
And so I spent the next thirty minutes telling her about my week, the kiosk on Sunday, Weihnachtsmarkt planning Tuesday, costume sorting yesterday and finally tonights practice in Bonn.

Lisbet shook her head, “when I spoke to your headmistress she said you were a dynamo, I didn't really believe all the hype. But compared to the rest of my students, well there is no comparison, i've never known anyone who does so much.”

I coloured up a bit, well you know what I'm like.

“Are you sure you aren't spreading yourself a bit thinly? I'd hate to see all these other activities affect your college work.”
“Its just a busy week,” I offered in my defence, “i don't usually have the singing or the other stuff really.”
“What if the singing takes off? You could be the next Madonna.”
I snorted, “hardly! I can barely hold a tune.”
“I don't believe that for one moment and clearly plenty of others would disagree too. What do your parents think about everything?”
I had a sip of my now nearly cold coffee, “well I know Dad would be happier if I concentrated more on the cycling but they've never outright said anything against the singing 'career', I mimed parenthesis.
“So you want to explore a singing career?”
“Its fun doing it occasionally, not sure i'd want to do it full time, compared cycling even its hardly a secure career is it?”
“And you value that, security?”
“I guess, I mean both my parents had good jobs before the cycling took over, Dad was a manager and Mum taught Geography, they've always said that a good base is never wasted.”
“I didn't know your mum taught.”
“Yeah, until Apollinaris offered her a contract.”
“Quite a change,” Lisbet noted.
“I suppose it has been a bit weird since then.” okay, a lot weird.
“I don't want to see you crashing out of college Gaby, if you've got any issues come and see me, don't let them fester, I'm sure we can sort out most things.”
“Erm thanks.”
“Gaby I mean it, you've got a bright future ahead of you and I'm sure you'll succeed at whataver career you decide to follow but I'm with your parents on this, get your qualifications, something to fall back on, before living the dream. I'd hate for you to end up as toilet lady.”

Well that lightened the mood a little. Okay I guess its a valid point, i've never quite worked out how that works, do they get a wage or do they rely entirely on the 'payments' users make? I left the office shortly after that, the conversation hadn't changed anything but I was more aware that people were looking out for me, I'm not quite sure how I feel about that but I suppose its good to know.
 
After yesterdays slap up meal in the Dinea, today time was of the essence so I met Max at the Burger King® down at Koblenz Hauptbahnhof, we're catching the Express up to Bonn which doesn't stop at the Lohr Centre.

“Wondered where you were?” Max offered, “got you a Flamer.”
“Thanks, I had further to come than you.”
“Not much.”

I gave him a look as I opened the box containing my burger.

“Just saying.”
“What time's the Express?”
“You're alright we've got fifteen minutes.”
“Is that all? I need to change.”
“You're fine as you are,” he suggested.
“I'm not going to a band rehearsal in my college clothes.”
“Why not?”

Men!

“Because I'm not thats why.”
 
Of course, by the time i'd devoured my late lunch there wasn't time to utilise the 'changing room', we had to run through the station to catch the Rhein Express, fortunately we got seats above the bike area. I left von Strechau to his own devices and headed for the loo, they're generally not too bad on the trains and they're quite spacious on these newer trains being disabled friendly. We were just leaving Andernach when I returned to where Max was waiting, reading some college notes.

“Hutch up,” I requested.
“Took long enough,” he noted sliding across the seat without looking up.
“It takes time to change, so what do you reckon?”
He finally looked up from his notes, “geez Gab, its only a rehearsal.”
“I know, so?”

Okay, maybe I have gone a little overboard, i've gone for a sort of casual 'rock chick' look, shiny black dance tights, Jules' black denim jacket and I purloined Mum's stiletto ankle boots, a couple of paper hankies taking the slop out of the fit. And maybe I have gone a bit overboard with the makeup but, well it sort of feels more, I dunno, rocky?

“Have you got a license for that lot?”
“Har de har, oh bum, forgot my earrings.”

I fished in my purse and pulled the pair of five centimetre hoops out oh and my nose ring. It only took a minute or two to swap my studs out for the dangly loops, the nose is a bit more fiddly of course.

“So?”
“Hmm, nose ring,” Max grinned with a twitch of eyebrows.
“Down Fido, you'll ruin my lippy,” I told him pushing him away.
“Spoilsport.”
“Later okay.”
 
“You found us,” Stefan greeted when I nervously entered the rehearsal room, part of a run down industrial unit north of Bonn city centre.
“Nearly missed the stop,” Max told him as we joined the members of BlauHase gathered around their instruments.
“Er hi guys,” I added with a little wave.
“Erdbeere!” Animal grinned.

Big Jo held a hand up for a high five, Little Jo just nodding.

“Well lets get started then, boyfriend, you can help Maria on the desk,” Stefan instructed.
“Its Max.”
“Whatever, so Strawberry, looking good by the way, here's the play list.”

And so it started.
 
Clearly a band rehearsal is a bit different to joining a gig. For starters its not one continuous run through, each song and bridge was taken individually and worked on to iron out the flaws. I had new songs to learn, for the Rheinhalle concert there are fewer covers and more original stuff than when i've been involved before.

At some point Max had been despatched to fetch food and drink, we had a short break to consume the snacks before returning to the fray.
 
“Von 99 Luftballons auf ihrem Weg zum Horizont
Hielt man für Ufos aus dem All
Darum schickte ein General ‘ne Fliegerstaffel hinterher
Alarm zu Geben, wenn’s so wär
Dabei war’n dort am Horizont
Nur 99 Luftballons,”

I warbled, yeah, we're ending the same as at Moselfest with the Nena classic. When I say end, its the planned encore, the actual last number is a Stefan penned number, a very loud and rocky piece that I only have a small part of. We got to the final bar and suddenly the noise stopped, the last chords reverberated around the practice space.

There was the sound of clapping, Max quite enthusiastically and then I spotted Dad by the door. Oh sugar, I wanted to get changed, he wasn't supposed to see me all vamped up tonight. Well of course, I then had to do the introductions, they would have met next week anyhow but I wasn't ready for it tonight.
 
Finally we were on our way back to Dernau, the parental meeting went as well as you'd expect, Dad being very protective, the guys I think managed to put his mind at rest.

“Does your mother know how you're dressed?”
“Erm.”
“Maybe she had best not see then?” he suggested as we followed the five six five away from Bonn.
“Um right,” I agreed.

Its not the easiest thing getting changed in the back of a moving A Klasse, well losing the uplift bra was the difficult bit. After removing Mum's boots I just pulled my jeans on over the leggings, put my hair into a loose braid and took out the big hoops. By the time we dropped Max off I looked more like a student again, I'm guessing Dad'll keep mum if you know what I mean.
 
© Maddy Bell 21.01.2019

 
At least Friday started out a bit warmer even if the forecast was for a return of rain. Oh i've got Garde tonight but there won't be a repeat of last weeks party afterwards – which reminds me, I really should get the expectant mum a present. I'm a firm believer that the babies get far too much out of the whole birth business, the new mum is forgotten so I gift the parent rather than the child – lets face it they'll get more than enough in the years to come.

I did my best to concentrate on my classes, well after yesterday I thought I ought to, however I spent all the breaks listening to the CD Maria burnt last night with the new songs on. Lets face it, I can't stand on stage reading the lyrics next week so I do need to memorise them. The day seemed to whizz by, and being Friday I was on my own for the journey back home, lost in the lyrics of 'Glauberg', one of Stefans new songs.

“That you Gab?”

It took me a moment to realise I was being addressed then seeing who it was I pulled my earphones out.

“Hi Anna, long time no see.”
“It was only August,” she pointed out, “so whats happening, i've not seen you on here before.”
“Clearly,” I agreed as she sat down opposite, “depends when I finish college.”
“Of course, you're doing accounting or something?”
“Business Management,” I corrected, “what about you?”
“Same old,” she sighed, “so what are you up to? Oh congrats on your racing thing.”
“Thanks, you know, riding, Garde, working the kiosk.”
“You still get together with the others?”
“Not so much, hey you should come tomorrow.”
“What's happening tomorrow?”
“Hallowe'en party at the Preiser's, everyone'll be there.”
A smile crossed her face, “you remember when you wore that...”
“Not happening again,” I interrupted.
“It would be good to see everyone,” she allowed, “you still all go in costume?”
“Wouldn't be Hallowe'en without.”
“Not saying I will but its a definate maybe.”
“Cool!”
“So what're you listening to?” she pointed to my Discman®.
“BlauHase.”
“Isn't that who you sang with at that festival?”
“Yeah, they're playing the Rheinhalle next week.”
“So just getting in the groove eh?”
“Well learning the words actually,” I admitted.
“You're not? You are! Gaby Bond superstar!”
“Shush, give over, hardly superstar, I just sing a couple of songs to fill in.”
“At the Rheinhalle,” Anna observed.
“At the Rheinhalle.”
“Mum always said you'd go places.”
“I remember, usually back down to Dernau,” I chuckled.
 
“Never guess who I saw on the train earlier?” I quizzed Pia as we waited for Hannah to turn up at the Tanzklub.
“I dunno, Myleen?”
“Dur!”
“Well give us a clue then.”
I gave it a bit of thought, “begins with A.”
“Onkel Axel?”
“Why would your uncle be on the train?”
“Well he could be.”
“Anna.”
“As in Pilsen?”
“Uh huh.”
She sighed, “do you miss when we all did everything together Gab?”
“We still do.”
“Not like we used to, around each others houses, breakfasting at the bakery on the way to school, shopping trips, you remember when we went to Mayen with Claud and you ended up with blue hair?”
“How could I forget.”
“Not seen her since the camping trip, we should get together again.”
“Yeah,” I agreed.
 
Given my last week I needed to relax a bit and an hour of Garde hit the spot nicely. You have to pretty much turn everything off, comcentrate on what you are doing, as soon as you let your thoughts stray it falls apart. We shuffled, stomped and wheeled, Han clapping out the beat and offering 'advice' to miscreants.

“Okay ladies, great stuff tonight.”

We all relaxed and started stretching to release the tension in necks and arms.

“Remember its the regionals next week, you'll need to bring your uniforms down on Friday.”

There were some groans at that but I think mostly because its expected.
 
“No chance I can convince you Gab?” Hannah asked as we sorted ourselves out.
“Not this time, i've got stuff on next week.”
“She's singing,” Pia dropped in.
“I didn't know you were in a choir Gab.”

P snorted at that.

“Er, its not exactly a choir.”
“Oh?” Han queried, cheers Pia.
“I'm sort of in a band.”
“A band?”
“Well not exactly in, I just do a few songs with them.”
“Pah!” P offered, “she's the lead singer with BlauHase.”
“Am not!”
“Well they won't be looking at the men on Saturday will they?”

I'd never thought of it like that.

“BlauHase? Aren't they playing the Rheinhalle?”
“Erm, yeah.”
“I guess the Alles Stern will have to do without their star.”
“Maybe next time?”
“I'll hold you to that Gaby Bond.”

Me and my big mouth.
 
“You think they'll turn up?” Con asked as we prepared to open the kiosk.
“Dunno, Nena sent Boxxie an email with all the details from Tuesday night, I'm sure she'll remind them.”
“Well its your baby, lets hope we aren't too busy.”
“Extra hands?”
“Possibly,” she allowed, “speak of the devils.”

Well they were early at least, I'm guessing they've come up on the Express.

“Morning.”
“Hi guys, won't be a minute and I'll be with you.”
 
I have given this some thought, honest. I've got experience of teaching, twelve years of school and of course Mum was a teacher so i've seen it from the other side too. The stuff we want to go over isn't rocket science of course, general hygiene and customer interface, hand washing and serving in normal speak. Of course in the Christmas cabin we won't be cooking Pommes and so on and the coffee machine is a bit more complicated but if we've got the basics down then it'll make things easier in Advent.

Not sure how i'd feel having someone barely a year older doing the teaching but Paula, Frannie and Marguerite at least appeared to be listening. You don't need a blow by blow, suffice to say I used the tell, show, try method – a lot of food hygiene is about routine. Then of course there's the actual customer interface stuff, anyone can wash hands but serving requires accuracy and some general maths skills.

It was a bit crowded with three extra bodies about so we rotated them around, one helping Kris out on the tables (thankfully its been a dry morning), Con supervising the till whilst I did the same with the actual victuals. It seemed to work out okay, Paula struggled a bit with the till but otherwise all three were reasonably competent after a couple of hours.

“So everyone happy?”
“Well apart from that till thing,” Paula allowed.
“Its a simpler till on the market, fewer buttons to remember,” I told my charges.
“So have we passed?” Marguerite enquired.
“It was never a case of passing, just making sure you knew what you're getting involved with.”
“Do we need to come every week?” Frannie asked.
“You don't have to but practice makes perfect, if you fancy doing a couple of hours just ring me or Connie, I'm sure we can sort out some form of renumeration.”
“Is that like more training?” Paula queried.
“Dumkopf, she means wages,” Frannie suggested, “right Gaby?”
“Well something like that, maybe lunch or something.”
“Sounds fair,” Marguerite opined.
“Today?” Paula chipped in, she's sharp that one.
“Guess so,” I agreed, well i've been their age, money's always tight and its not like we can pay them the going rate is it?
 
“I've been thinking,” Con mentioned after our trainee Kabin girls had left, apparantly happy with Pommes and drinks.
“Ot oh, better take cover,” Kris suggested.
“Quiet serf.”
“Yes mistress,” Kris sniggered.
“Go on then,” I prompted.
“Well you know the Weihnachts Kabin?”
“Yeah.”
“Well we do like coffee and cake right,”
“Get on with it,” i suggested.
“Well couldn't we do some hot food too?”
“That wouldn't go down too well with the Würst and Pizza stalls.”
“I was thinking other stuff.”
“Such as?”
“Dunno, some of your pies maybe?”
“Not very Christmassy.”
“When we went skiing last year they did apple fritters and these delish melted cheese sandwich things, Raclette I think it was called,” Kris offered.
“We'd need a fryer for fritters,” Con mused.
“You got like four for three Francs,” our informant advised.
“So these sandwich things, like cheese on toast?” I asked in turn.
“Sort of, they had like these little grill things, slice of Rye bread, Swiss cheese, you could have Speck if you wanted, under the grill for a couple of minutes, we had them nearly every day on the slopes.”
“Sounds interesting, cheers Kris.”
“Hey, i'd buy some if you did them.”
“We could try them out here first,” Con mused.
“Well we have fryers here so we'd just need to get a grill from somewhere.”
“Lets do it,” Con decided.
“What about the others, we should run it by them first.”
“We can tell them tonight.”
“I want commision,” Kris suggested.
 
© Maddy Bell 21.01.2019

 
Given the number of teens heading up to Staffel, a coalition of parents arranged for a couple of minibuses to do the delivery and collection of most of us from the Sebenschuh’s car park. I've got a sneaky suspicion that there's some sort of parent party taking place in the Restaurant, far too many smartly dressed adults for coincidence. We'd closed up the Kabin sharp on four. It takes time to get ready to go out, it takes significantly longer when its a costume party.

Mand was rocking 'Wednesday', I was pretty pleased with my more traditional personna. Of course its not just the Angels going of course, our numbers are swollen by other ex schoolmates from Silverberg and a couple of Mart's football team. I felt a little guilty that Anna, if she came would have to make her own way, but to be honest I'm not really expecting to see her tonight. One bus was going straight up, the other, which I ended up on with Steff, was to collect along the way, Nen, Bridg, Kris and a few others living at the top of the 'gorge'.

“Its just like old times,” Steff suggested.
“Sort of,” I agreed.
“You don't sound too enthused.”
“I am, but its not really is it, like the old days?”
“You're not gonna be a party pooper all night I hope.”
“I was just saying, I mean we've not exactly been seeing everyone that often.”
“Yeah but we still talk and stuff, we're still the Angels.”

Where would I be without the Angels, they literally took me into their clique when we moved to Germany, they went out of their way to include me, finer friends a girl couldn't have. I might not always have been so good in return but they've never wavered in their support. Its not such a leap then that I feel a sadness as life does its best to split us up.
 
By the time our bus had made its collections we were a good fifteen minutes behind the first arriving at the farm. Where's Max I hear you ask, good question he was supposed to be helping Marty setting stuff up but there wasn't any sign of him when I followed the others into the barn.

“Heya Gab,” Bern greeted me.
“How'd you know it was me?”
“well duh, skinny short arse,” my friend chuckled.
“So you seen Max?”
“Over in the house with Mart getting changed, they only just finished setting stuff up before the first bus arrived.”
“How's the munchkin?”
“Hopefully behaving for her Oma.”
“I should go and see her.”
“You'll frighten her half to death looking like that.”
“Its not that scary.”
“Maybe not from where you are, seriously I wouldn't have recognised you.”
"If I wasn't so flippin short," I filled in.
 
It was a typical Preiser dance, lights strung across the open space, straw bales used for seating, a few tressles set up with the provisions and a big space at one end for dancing. I've been to a few of these things now, enough that I know where the warm corners are which is where I gravitated once I was equipped with some 'punch', but where is Max?

“Oh Mein Gott,” Con mentioned looking behind me.
“What?”

I was vaguely aware that the chatterin the room had died down, I slowly turned around to find out why.

“Max?”
“Elvira darlink, and you are?”

Well there's no denying that he'd gone to some effort, the slinky thigh slit dress, long black wig, pale makeup – well he cut quite the figure.

“The wicked witch of the north,” I cackled back.

Okay I'm dressed as a witch complete with green makeup, warts and a long crooked proboscis. Well okay a particularly witchy looking witch but rocking a sexy dress, spider web hose and my black ten centimetre heels. Not the greatest choice for a barn dance but I'm not planning on doing anything too energetic.

“Well your ugliness, would you care to dance?”

The moment was broken and conversation resumed, the fact that one of my concert covers, a darker number from Nina Hagen, started over the PA had to be coincidence right?
 
“So,” I started, “how come?”
“Eh?”
“Why are you wearing a dress?”

He shrugged, which made whatever he was using as boobs wobble about alarmingly.

“Why not? Its Hallowe'en, everyone dresses up in weird stuff.”
“I guess,” I allowed.

Don't get me wrong, given my past I'm the last one to be calling a lad out for wearing a dress but, well he's my boyfriend and he looks all too comfortable in it.

“What?”
“Nothing, so who's idea was it?”
“Well mum's actually, I was moaning about doing a Zombie again.”
“Because zombies are so last year,” I giggled.
“You can laugh.”
I was having a right giggle fest by now, “i know.”
“I think I was going on a bit so she says 'right, I'll sort you out a costume'. Well I thought it'd be a vampire or something so I just say okay.”
“And so she picked Elvira?”
“Go figure,” Max set his boobs a wobble again, “i guess its not a zombie.”
“What did your Gran say?”
“Said it served me right for complaining.”
“So you dressed as a girl all the way?”
“All the way?”
I leant in closer so I could whisper, “you know, knickers? BH?”
“Erm.”
“You are,” I declared a little too loudly.
“Can we change the subject Gab.”
“Are they lacy?”
“Gab!” he hissed.
“Soz.”
 
As its a Hallowe'en party the entertainment extends beyond the music. Of course its largely imported, the whole thing really, there's no tradition in Germany of Trick or Treat, carved pumpkins or even bobbing for apples. That doesn't mean there aren't enthusiastic proponants, the apple bobbing was getting quite competitive!

“I don't know how you walk in them things,” Bern mentioned as we both took a breather from the excitement.
“Practice?”
“Seriously Gab, why do you wear them?”
“How tall are you?”
“Dunno, five nine ish?”
“I rest my case.”
“Eh?”
“I'm five two and a bit.”
“Thought you were more than that,” she allowed.
“I wish,” I lamented, “don't think there's much chance now.”
“But Jules is taller than you.”
“Five five, the Doc thinks its to do with my, you know, plumbing issues.”
“Good things come in small packages.”
 
“What's a Hexe got to do for a kiss round here?” I asked running a hand over 'Elvira's' slinky rump.
“I can't get near for that nose and give over with that.”
“Why? Don't you like it?”
“Maybe too much,” he hinted.
“Oops!” I stopped my rubbing, “so kissy?”
“Nose?”

well to be honest it was bugging me now, it makes drinking awlward and I nearly poked Mand's eye out when I leant in to talk during a particularly loud rendition of 'Monster Mash'.
 
“Er hi Erika,” i greeted Frau Preiser, poking my head into the kitchen.
“Gaby?”
“'s me,” I agreed.
“Having a good time?”
“Yeah, its good to see everyone again.”
“So what can I do for you?”
“Could I use your bathroom please, this nose is getting really annoying, I'll have to redo my makeup if I take it off.”
“It is rather impressive,” Erika agreed, “go on, you know where it is.”
“Thanks.”
 
It took me ages to sort out the nose earlier, removing it was nearly as involved. I hadn't really thought it through but when I pulled my false conk off it dragged half the rest of my face off. Thats liquid latex for you I guess, the nett result was that I had to pull the rest off which left me with a bizarre half white, half green visage.

By the time I'd cleaned the rest of the green off and sorted my face out so it was fit for public consumption, i'd been nearly half an hour. Well I didn't look quite as, er, frightening, i've gone from hag to, I guess, pretty, I'm betting half my peers won't even notice. I tottered back across the yard to rejoin the party, looking forward to a snog with Elvira.

Except the barn was silent and in darkness.

“Hello?”

I couldn't see anything inside, well there was a single red light over where I think the CD player is.

“Guys?”

Where are they all? I carefully moved forward, was that a snigger? My eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light from outside but with the deep shadows you could've hidden an army in here and I wouldn't see it.

'Whoooo-oooo.'
“Max?”
'Whoooo-oooo.'
“Oh come on guys.”

next moment something wafted past me.

'Whoooo-oooo.'
“Okay, ha ha, good joke,” I offered, my bravado receding somewhat the longer I stood there.

I could hear something moving, off to the left?

“BOOO!”

I nearly jumped out of my skin at the voice coming from behind me, the lights flashed on behind me as I ran from the barn, no mean feat in these heels.

“Gab! Slow down!”

Okay, maybe I over reacted, I mean, I knew it was some sort of jape, but even so.

“Gab, hold up,” Max called after me.

Max, my brain calculated i'd be safe so I arrested my forward motion by swinging around the corner of a horsebox. There was a clatter of heels, girly heels and then a tall women rounded the corner before crashing into me.

“Ow!”
“Er sorry, was that your foot?” the woman asked with Max's voice.

I didn't reply with words, instead I yanked her head down to my level and latched my lips onto hers.
 
© Maddy Bell 22.01.2019

 
“Sorry about earlier,” Bern told me as we collected some of the evenings detritus.
“I guess it turned out okay,” I grudgingly allowed.
“So did you like get into Elvira's knickers?”
“Bern!”
“Well?,” she persisted.
“No I didn't and vici verci before you ask.”
“You know for a hunk he makes a quite good girly.”
“If you say so.”
“Well I didn't recognise him when he got here.”
“How many two metre girls do you know around here?”
She shrugged, “I don't know everyone like you do.”

Well I suppose she does have me on that.

“Come on you two,” Mart called from the barn door, “i'll finish clearing up in the morning.”
“Okay liebchen,” Bern called back, “come on Gab, we can get some chocolate before your lift gets here.”

My lift, yeah I'm going back with Elvira, I mean Max, well we could hardly leave the Preisers to do all the clearing up could we and von Strechau senior was already going to be running taxi for Max. Bern turned out the lights and we picked our way across to the farmhouse, easier said than done in heels in the dark. The lads were in the kitchen with Erika who was apparently making the hot chocolate.

“I'd best check on Drea,” Bern suggested.
“She's fine daughter, fell asleep with Opa,” Erika told us.
“Make the most of it Bernie,” Marty suggested, “she'll be like a top in the morning.”
“I guess.”
 
“My feet are killing,” Max sighed as we started the journey down from Staffel in his Dad's Audi.
“You should've brought some trainers or something,” I pointed out.
“Just like you then.”
“Yeah well I'm used to wearing heels.”
“Your mother always has flat shoes to change into,” von Strechau senior advised.
“I'm not exactly going to be making a habit of wearing heels,” Max mentioned.
“Pity, I could get used to the idea,” I joshed.
“Har, har, one pair of heels in the relationship is enough.”
“I don't mind wearing trainers.”
Well, Wilhelm snorted violently, “she's got you there son.”
“Huh!”
 
“Take it you had a good night?” Mum posited when I slunk into the lounge.
“Not bad,” I allowed.
“Manda said you've got a new girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend?”
“Someone in a dress?” she hinted.
“Oh Max.”
“What made him pick that?”
“He didn't, he was complaining so much Gloria picked it for him.”
“Guess he won't be complaining in future.”
“Guess not, where's Dad?”
Mum looked at the clock, “should be back soon, he went for a drink with George and Mike, supposedly sorting stuff out for the training camp.”
“Any excuse for a beer,” I offered.
“So shrewd for someone so young.”
“I've had a good teacher,” I suggested.

To be honest, whilst he'll have a drink socially, Dad doesn't really do alcohol, if anything Mum's more partial. They've both tried to instill some sort of respect and temperance with us kids, I guess we've both pushed things at different times. Okay, maybe me more than Jules, especially given my low tolerance levels.

“Well, i'd best go up, i've still got to shower, get the rest of this makeup off, nite Mum.”

I leant over and kissed her cheek.

“Nite kiddo, see you in the morning, you at the kiosk?”
“Yeah.”
“Well don't be too long getting to bed then.”
“No Mum.”
 
“So what time did you get home then?” Nena asked as we put out the tables.
“'bout eleven?” I suggested.
“Not too late then, it was half to when I got in.”
“We didn't have to go around the houses,” I noted.
“Max was brave, wearing a dress.”
“He is over one eighty and it was a costume party.”
“Still, not many lads would wear a dress.”

I gave a shrug, he wasn't likely to want to repeat it in a hurry, was he?

“He's above such things,” I loftily pronounced.
 
For a change it wasn't me nursing a hangover after a party but Con, she'd hit the 'punch' quite hard last night and last time I saw her she was hanging off Jorge Stevens like a limpet. Not exactly Mr Universe but its slim pickings around here, pretty much all the elegible options are taken.

“Coffee,” I suggested to my groaning business partner.
“Had four cups already.”
“Clearly not strong enough,” Nen opined.
“So how much did you drink?” I queried.
“Dunno, too much.”
“You'd better stay sober on Thursday.”
“Thursday?”
“The concert, in Bonn?”
“Urgh.”
“You better be there Thesing.”
“She'll be there Gab, we'll all be there, wouldn't miss it for anything.”
 
Despite the practice the other day, as the concert gets closer, the more nervous I'm getting. When i've sung with BlauHase before its always been sort of spur of the moment, i've not had time for nerves. But this, its been planned for months and the Rheinhalle, its a big deal and, well I'm a shower singer really, I am!

Not that I was able to dwell on the whole thing for long, despite the shortening days, the weather was still quite mild which in turn meant the kiosk was quite busy again. Busy enough that I ended up ringing Kristin to come and give us a hand. On the other hand being busy made the day pass more quickly and actually enjoyed the 'pressure', weird huh?
 
“You look knackered,” Manda suggested when I got home.
“Cheers.”
“Well you do look tired kiddo,” Dad chimed in.
“We were quite busy, had to get Kris to give us a hand.”
“Everyones making the most of the weather,” Mum opined.
“I guess, is that what I think it is?” I queried sniffing the odours from the kitchen.
“If you are thinking a roast you'd be right, we've not had one for a bit.”
“Beef?”
“Lamb, can't you smell the difference?”
“I've been cooking Pommes and Würst all day, thats about all I can smell. So we having all the trimmings?”
“There's Yorkshires and mint sauce,” Mum advised.
“No bread sauce or stuffing?”
“Wasn't going to but if you want to make some you can.”
“Maybe have a shower first?” Dad suggested.
“Have I got time Mum?”
“As long as you don't dawdle.”
“Be right back!”
 
Well you know what its like, by the time i'd showered, washed my hair, braided it and found some clothes that don't smell of fried potatoes i'd been best part of half an hour.

“Thought you'd died up there,” Mum suggested when I clattered into the kitchen, “you want to bring the veggies through.”
“I was going to make bread sauce,” I lamented.
“Amanda has made some, yes and stuffing, now, vegetables.”

I followed Mum through to the dining room where the others were already sat at the table. It was kind of weird there just being the four of us at the table, we usually only use the dining room when we have company. And I think its been like, I dunno, a year maybe since we had a roast without some sort of company, even if it was only Max or Con.

With the bread sauce and stuffing it really was the full works, mash and roast taters, green beans, carrots, cauliflower, sprouts, gravy, mint sauce, the meat of course and some pretty impressive Yorkshire puds. Yeah, I might enjoy German cuisine but its hard to beat a proper English Sunday roast, it might not be particularly fancy but its simplicity is its delight. The table was devoid of conversation as we all tucked in, Dad had poured us each a glass of crisp local white, a sharpness that cleared the palate without disguising the component tastes.

“Do you know what would round that off?” Dad put to the table.
“Rhubard crumble,” Mum and I chorused.
“You'll have to wait for a bit, its still in the oven,” Mum added.
“Custard?” I suggested.
“What else?” Dad queried.
“I'll make it,” I volunteered.

Mand helped me clear the remains of our main course, the plates were all empty so everything went straight into the dishwasher – hurrah for technology! German vanilla sauce or sauce Anglais as they often call it, is but a poor substitute for thick, creamy, bright yellow Bird's custard. Gran actually sends us a tin when she does one of her goodwill packages, can you believe you can't even get the tinned stuff here?

Of course its not just custard powder in her packages, there's Marmite, Henderson's relish and even real liquorice allsorts. On the one hand I always look forward to the parcels but it can be a bit melancholy too, a reminder of a life, of places, people left behind when we moved here. I don't regret a moment but sometimes a bag of sweets gets you wondering about what might have been.

Mum came through into the kitchen, “how're you doing with the custard?”
“Nearly ready, we're nearly out of powder though.”
“I'll get your Gran to send some next time, can you get the dishes out please.”
 
You can make virtually anything into a crumble, savoury stuff and of course fruit, but from all of them my favourite, and Dad's, is Rhubarb. Back in Warsop we used to have some in the garden, there's nothing quite like picking a few sticks and cooking it fresh. Its not as readily available here, not in the shops at least, we get ours from a sort of farm shop up at Ahrbrück, they do all sorts of weird fruit and veg, when was the last time you saw Gooseberry's and have you ever tried Romanescu?

Mum retrieved the dish from the oven, the biscuit a golden brown, puddles of rhubarb juice sat on the surface and still bubbling away through the glass for all to see. I poured the custard into a serving jug then followed her through with custard and dishes. Dad had replenished our glasses, hmm, I could get to like this.

“I'd like to propose a toast,” Dad told us once me and Mum were seated.
“Toast?” I queried.
“Not browned bread kiddo,” Mum chuckled.
“I know,” I huffed, “a toast for what?”
“To your mothers cooking.”
“What about mine?”
“Okay, I'll rephrase that, a toast to all the cooks in the house, the cooks!”
“The cooks,” the rest of us returned.
“Can we have the crumble now?” Mand asked salivating at the prospect.
 
© Maddy Bell 15.02.2019

 
And so another week has commenced, a week of college, a change from mild dry weather to something definitely more autumnal. Oh not wet or anything but a definate reduction in temperature, I did the skirt on Monday but for Tuesday I broke out a pair of jeans. Yep, just another week in the world of me, Gabrielle Bond except its not just an ordinary week.

My nerves increased seemingly by the minute, by the time I got home I was a complete bag of blancmange.

“I'm gonna cancel.”
“Eh?” Dad allowed without looking up from whatever it was he was doing on his laptop.
“Thursday, I can't do it.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Fine by me.”
“Did you hear what I said?”
“You're not doing the concert, like I said, fine.”
“You're not gonna ream me out or anything?”
“Nope, you're old enough to make your own mind up.”
“But?”
“Well I suppose I'll have to rejig your training schedule.”
“Ooh! I can't talk to you!”

Grrr! I stomped up to my eyrie, parents!
 
'Bicycle, bicyle, bicycle, bicycle race,' Freddy warbled through my ear buds.

With the darker evenings, training has moved indoors, I'm not a huge fan but it does avoid getting wrapped up like a Michelin man and running the gauntlet of dodgy roads and inattentive drivers on our unlit roads. I hummed along to Queen as I concentrated on holding a steady heart and pedalling rate, staring, as usual at Dad's workbench. Its well boring, I mean, there's no skill to riding on a turbo, you just sit and pedal going nowhere.
Queen were replaced by ELO and Mr Blue Sky, well these old rock numbers are pretty good for training to, they have a good cadence, simple lyrics and are pretty inoffensive if you start doing the bike laraoke thing. Can you imagine how embarrasing it would be breaking out into the Spice Girls or, heaven forbid, Take That? No, give me something with a bit more weight to it any day.

So of course, when Bo Rhap came up a couple of minutes later my thoughts moved to Thursday again, the Rheinhalle, BlauHase. No I can't do it, I'll make a right idiot of myself, Stefan and the guys will understand, I'm sure they will, its not like I'm really part of the band, they can do it without me. Guess I need to tell everyone else too, save them making the journey, I thought Dad would go ape, not what I was expecting at all.
 
Dave stood on the cellar steps and listened, over the incessant hum of the turbo you could clearly hear a word and pitch perfect rendition of what he recognised as one of the songs his daughter had been practising for the concert. How she was singing and riding at the same time, well another time.

“Dave, what are you doing?” Jenny queried from over his shoulder.
“Shush,” he told his wife.
“Gabs playing her music too loud?”
“That's not a CD love, that's your daughter.”
“Get on with you.”
“Straight up.”
“No wonder that band want her to sing with them.”
“She's talking about dipping out,” Dave whispered back.
“Nerves?”
“Reckon so,” he agreed.
“What did you tell her?”
“Nothing, its her decision, she'll make the right one.”
“You think?”

The singing ended, the turbo's drone now the only noise from around the corner.

“Come on,” Dave motioned for Jen to return upstairs with him.
 
What was that? Sounded like someone on the cellar steps. I peered across the garage but there didn't seem to be anyone there, maybe it was a mouse or something – have to tell Dad so he can put out the traps. The alarm sounded, forty minutes already? I eased off the pedals a little and grabbed my towel before popping my ear buds out. I hate this bit, you don't notice all the perspiration when you're going for it but as soon as you ease off its like a burst pipe, sweat bursting from every pore. By the time I finished warming down, my BH was dripping and the seat of my bibs was decidedly soggy.

Once off the bike I stripped the soggy kit off and chucked it into the washer before climbing into the basement shower. I was soon standing under a stream of nice hot water, pleasurable wet as opposed to yuckiness. The water played over my neck and shoulders, bliss, when I climbed out I was somewhat more relaxed and thoughts of pulling out of the concert, whilst not gone completely, were pushed much further back in my thoughts.
 
“Good ride kiddo?” Mum queried when I made my way into the kitchen.
I shrugged as I towelled my hair off, “turbo.”
“Yeah, not the best fun,” she agreed, “you put your kit in?”
“Duh! Course I have, you know Thursday?”
“What about it?”
“I was thinking.”
“Do I need armour?”
“Eh?”
“You thinking is always dangerous.”
“Huh!”
“So what about Thursday?”
“Well I was thinking, if we went up earlier, we could eat before the concert?”

I swear Mum let out a long held breath.

“I'm sure your Dad'll be up for that, we were thinking of going for dinner afterwards anyhow, you sure its a good idea before singing though?”
“Well I wasn't thinking a big meal, just a burger or something, we could still get dinner after.”
“I'll talk to Dad.”
“Cool!”
“That it?”
“Er yeah, bit nervous I guess.”
“You'll be fine Gab, just treat it like a big race.”
“Yeah, I guess, so what's for tea?”
 
“I think she's really nervous about Thursday Dave,” Jen mentioned as they lay in bed.
“Its quite a big thing, I can't imagine doing it myself.”
“Me either, i'd rather teach a room of thirteen year olds than get up on a stage.”
“We'll be there for her Jen.”
“I know, but she's been through so much.”
“And come through it all, she's a tough cookie love.”
“I'm just thinking about Denmark, she really threw the dummy there Dave.”

Her partner didn't immediately reply.

“Dave? You still awake?”
“Sorry, just thinking, maybe we could do something to take her mind off the concert, it worked in Roskilde.”
“What're you thinking?”
“Dunno, shopping?”
“Not sure that'd help, have you been shopping with number two daughter lately?”
“Well no,” he admitted.
“Its not exactly stress free Dave.”
“So what do you suggest?”
“Hmm, I know, we could go take a look at that warehouse place up in Bocholt, look at some bikes, take her mind off singing.”
“Rose?”
“That's it, to be honest I wouldn't mind a look myself, couldn't tell you when I last went to a bike shop.”
“What about Bernie and her fella? they won't want to trail around a bike shop.”
“Tell you what then, you take Gaby up in your car and I'll do the taxibus, meet you up at Bonn?”
“Okay, what about Manda?”
“I'll sound her in the morning.”
 
“You got everything in there kiddo? We won't have time to come back later.”
“Yes Dad, I'm not twelve anymore,” I pointed out plonking my case in the hallway.
“And don't I know it.”

When Dad suggested going to this Rose place last night I wasn't quite sure, but Mum mentioned new shoes, bike shoes that is – what's a girl to do? The only downside is Mum's driving but at least I can share the terror with Mand. Of course i've got my dress for tonight in the case, the fancy hose, my heels and my makeup box, I should be all set.

“You ready kiddo,” Mum asked breezing into the house.
“Uh huh.”
“Manda, time!” she went on.
“Coming!” de Vreen called ahead of a clatter on the stairs.

I saw Dad wink at Mum, wonder what subterfuge is going on?

“Okay girls, lets get off, we've a long drive ahead.”
 
Its not really that long a drive, something around two hundred kilometres, with Mum's driving think a couple of hours max. The dodgy bit is that we have to go past Köln, Düsseldorf and Duisberg, some of the busiest autobahns in the country. We piled out to the car.

“See you later!”
“Don't spend too much,” Dad admonished.
“Tschussie!”
 
“Its huge,” Manda exclaimed.

It certainly was, a huge barn of a place, 'Rose Biketown' emblazoned in huge letters identifying the place. We'd come straight here, Dad's directions were spot on of course, Mum turned into the car park and we pulled into a bay off to the side of the entrance.

“We'll do here then we can get lunch along in the town okay?”
“Hope they've got a toilet.”
“I'm sure they have,” Mum allowed, “come on, times a wastin'.”
 
Whilst the bikes are all their own, for everything else they stock a lot of top brands. Not that there's anything wrong with the bikes, you see quite a few at the races up this way and they're pretty smart. Okay, maybe not quite Pinarello level but thats a bit snobby really. After sorting out the immediate needs, me and Mand headed up to the top leaving Mum to wander around the three floors on her own.

“Bit different to Butler's,” Mand opined.
“Butler's?”
“Shop back in Croydon,” she told me.
“Right, we used to go to a place in Clowne, right little place, had everything mind.”

We wandered through the huge open showroom, the bikes artfully displayed rather than all parked on top of each other. More like a smart car place than a bike shop. Road bikes, mountain bikes, city bikes, trekking bikes – the only thing missing is kids bikes. The sort of middle floor was todays Mecca though, glasses, gloves and shoes!

“You girls okay?” an assistant queried as we gazed at the latest race shoes displayed on the wall.
“We're after some race shoes?” Mand suggested.
“Anything caught your eye?”
“Could I try the new Sidi's?”
 
© Maddy Bell 18.02.2019

 
I'm not daft, no really, I'm not, even if I am blonde. So whilst I was looking to actually buy some new race shoes I tried not to rub Mand's nose in my parents largesse. Lets face it, top end shoes with all the bells and whistles come in at something like €200 and Mand, even with her work at Der Mühle, doesn't have that sort of money going spare.

“You found some?” Mum asked finding us still admiring the footwear.
“Dunno,” I admitted, “I like the North Wave but the Sidi's are well pukka.”
“What about you Manda, seen anything?”
“I don't really need new shoes,” she stated with little conviction – lets face it, i've seen her shoes, they are looking a bit 'used'.
“But if you were getting some what would you go for?” Mum pressed.
“Dunno,” she shrugged.
“Thought you liked those Diadora's,” I opined.
“They're a bit flash,” Mand noted.
“So? These are hardly wallflowers,” I waved one of the Sidi's at her.
“Have you tried them on Mand?” Mater went on.
“No point is there, I'm not buying.”
“Well it'd be useful to know your size if you ever are in the market,” Mum suggested.
“Go on Mand, its not like you have to buy them coz you tried them on,” I pointed out.
“Go on then,” she sighed.
 
I settled on the Sidi's, being white they'll go with my World Champs kit better than the red and yellow Northwaves and the dial things to do them up are well neat. The shoes were spirited away while Mand joined me in checking out all the bits and bobs on the groundfloor. Having all our bike stuff supplied we never have the need to look at different tyres, or bar tape or even bidons.

I hadn't any need or purpose really but I picked up a fancy thermal bottle and a carbon bottle cage – well just because. Manda did get herself some new track mitts so its not like she was leaving empty handed. Mum was waiting by the doors when we finished at the tills, each of us with a bag and one of Rose's huge catalogues.

“Got everything?” she queried.
“Yeah, you got my shoes?”
“Already in the boot, lets go eat, apparently there're a few nice Backhaus in town.”
“As long as they do coffee,” Mand mentioned.

I'll second that.
 
We found a nice place just off the main drag, they had Gülaschsüppe on the board outside, given that it was bright but chilly it fitted the bill spot on.

“Seems a bit weird being here on a school day,” Mand stated as we tucked into a dessert of Pflaumkuchen with cream.
“Yeah,” I agreed, “i sort of missed going to Koblenz this morning.”
“The commuting I can do without,” Manda told us.
“Not done that for a long time,” Mum put in.
“I wouldn't call driving from Church Warsop to Warsop College as commuting, we used to walk it.”
“Before we moved to Warsop I was commuting from Mansfield.”
“Don't remember that,” I allowed.
“Well you were only small.”
“She still is,” Mand chuckled.

I gave her a look, you can go off people.
 
“We'd best make a move,” Mum stated.
“I guess,” I allowed with a wistful look into a small boutique place, those jeans look well cool.
“We're supposed to meet your Dad and the others at five, its nearly three now.”

Okay, so we've been doing Bocholt's shopping experience for almost two hours so we can't really complain. Not that anyone had bought anything but its nice to look in some different shops for a change right?

“'kay,” I sighed.
“Don't want to be late for your fans,” Mand suggested.
“Fans? more like firing squad.”
“Well Max'll be there.”

I rolled my eyes, some fan club.
 
I was quiet on the drive back down to Bonn, the trip to Bocholt had certainly been a distraction from this evenings jamboree, I guess that was the intention after all. Of course we hit the start of rush hour before we got to the drive through place we were rendezvouing at so we were a bit later than planned. The others hadn't arrived much before, just about long enough to commandeer a couple of tables.

“Good day girls?” Dad asked as we found seats.
“I got shoes!”
“Ooh, lets see,” Bern requested.
“Bike shoes,” Mand told her.
“What did you expect Bern?” my sister queried.
“Well we can but hope,” my friend deadpanned.

Yes, my sister is here, and Boris, Max of course and the Preiser's, I know they aren't wed but its how I think of them now, Mart and Bern that is. The Angels and other interested parties are coming up by train later of course, well its not like we're running a taxi service. Everyone else seemed quite chirpy but my nerves are back, I picked at my burger – Max of course didn't let it go to waste.

“Time kiddo,” Mum advised.
“I can't do it,” I squeaked.
“Well you'd best go and tell Stefan and the others then,” Dad told me.
“We can still see the rest of the concert right?” Jules queried, “I really want to see Emerald, they were brill when we saw them last year.”
 
Okay, so they all played my bluff.

“Hold still.”
“Well stop pulling then,” I complained to Mand, who has volunteered to be my dressing assistant for the night.
“It would be easier in braids.”
“I don't want to look like I'm six.”
“Whatever.”

There was a knock at the door.

“Its open.”
Stefan came in, “how're you doing.”
“She's nearly ready,” Mand advised.
“Cool, nervous?”
“A bit,” I told him before de Vreen could answer for me.
“Here, have a slug of this,” he pulled out one of those hip flask things and offered it to me.
“What is it?” I asked reaching for it.
“JM2, takes the edge off.”
“Gab,” de Vreen warned.

To be honest, i'd have tried anything to stop the shakes, I took a swig and grimaced as the inky liquid coursed down my throat. Well at least it took my mind off the upcoming shindig.

“Better?”
“Not really.”
“Doesn't work for me either,” Stefan grinned.
 
“Its heaving out there,” Mand told me after peering out from the wings.
“Cheers,” I replied flatly.
“Can't see anyone I know.”
“Maybe they didn't come.”

My attention was brought into sharper focus as I fussed with the lacy folds of my frock, maybe I should've gone for something a bit less Stevie Nicks. The compere chap, I think he's a DJ on RTL1, greeted the crowd.

“Good evening Bonn!”

Of course there was a loud chorus of cheering at the standard concert greeting.

“What a treat we have for you this evening, a double bill of local rock bands, for part two we have Emerald but first this evening, fresh from sharing the stage at Moselfest with international giants of rock Status Quo, lets hear it for BlauHase featuring Erdbeere, BlauHase!”

Our host dived off the opposite side of the stage as the lights came up on Animal who started a steady drum beat as the cheering abated. It was all a bit theatrical, another spot came up over Little Jo as his keyboards joined the beat before Big Jo joined in on his bass. Then Stefan launched into a complicated riff over the others sounds, a sharp contrast which got quite a reaction from the audience.

The intro lasted a couple of minutes before the lights shut off as the music abruptly stopped.

“Kill em Gab's,” Mand told me with a shove towards the stage.

Sugar, this is it, the real McCoy. I took a deep breath and walked out to the microphone in the centre of the stage. A single spot lit directly above me, I counted myself in, one, two, three.

“Ich bin Feuer und Flamme,
Mein Herz ist aus Papier,
Kein Feuerlöscher auf der Welt,
Rettet mich mehrvor dir,
Die Erde dreht sich schneller,
Ich habmich angesteckt,
Ich glaub, Ich habe Fieber,
Du hast mich total verhext”

I completed the first verse of Feuer und Flamme acapella, a fairly slow rendition which seemed to go down pretty well before the lights came up and the rest of the band struck up and we launched into the rest of the Nena song with somewhat more gusto. Those first few lines were like scary squared but by the time we ended the song i'd forgotten my butterflies and started enjoying myself. Our set was very theatrical, lots of lighting effects and at one point dry ice, it hardly seemed anytime at all before we reached our set finale.

“i'm just a poor girl from a poor family
Easy come, easy go,
Will you let me go,
Ich millach no, we will not let you go,
Let me go,
Ich millach no, we will not let you go,
Be-elzebub has a devil put aside for me-e, for me-e, for meee”

Our adaption of Queen's Bo Rhap was the climax of the stage lighting extravaganza, each member of BlauHase and me of course had their turn under the spotlight. We'd had a great response at the festival a few weeks ago and tonight, in the confines of Bonn's Rheinhalle, several thousand German music fans cheered loudly as the final chords drifted away.

Of course, we had a couple of tunes ready for a potential encore, when the lights dropped, Stefan had a quick conflab with the others before coming over to me.

“Luftballon?”

Well I know the words and so will the audience, we can't really go far wrong with another Nena tune.

“Sure,” I agreed taking the opportunity to get a couple of gulps of water.

“Hast du etwas Zeit für mich?
Dann singe ich ein Lied fürdich,
Von neunundneundzig Luftballons...”
 
© Maddy Bell 18.02.2019

 
“You not changing?” Mum queried when she and Dad found us a few minutes later.
“What for?”
“To go eat?” Dad suggested, “and congratulations kiddo, it might not really be my cup of tea but whilst I might be a bit biased, you were brilliant right Jen?”
“What? Let me get these ear plugs out.”
“You're kidding me, you had ear plugs.”
“The look on your face Gab,” she pulled me into a hug, “course not even if it was a bit loud.”
“It is supposed to be loud, where are the others?”
“Getting refreshments I think, there's a few minutes before the other band start.”
“Talking of bands, where're the rest of your lot?” Dad enquired.
“Drinking by now,” Mand supplied.
“We're invited,” I added sort of hopefully.

I could see by his face that the thought of his sixteen year old daughter spending the rest of the evening or any of the evening drinking with a group of old men (well, older than me anyway) was not on his list of favourite things.

“Guess thats a no then,” I mumbled.
“Its not that we want to be killjoys kiddo,” Mum told me, “but you are only...”
I interrupted, “...sixteen, I know.”
“So we're taking your alta ego for dinner then?” Dad suggested.
“Not with all that makeup on,” Mum informed me.
“We'll wait for you pair outside,” Dad suggested.
“'kay,” I sighed.
“We won't be long Mr B,” Mand offered.
 
When I found my Handy it was lit up with messages, apparently its not just the Angels that've come tonight, I recognised a couple of names from college, from my time at Silverberg and I'm pretty sure one is Barb, you know, of Fran and Barb the bike riders fame. Well I suppose I'll have to look and reply but they'll have to wait until a bit later. I composed a message for Stefan and the guys while Mand attended to scraping off the stage makeup, I suppose it was a bit much for going to the restaurant, a bit dramatic.

Hi Stefan, Guys
Dad's taking the family to eat so a rain check on the drinks. Had a really good time, think it went well! Speak with you soon, don't drink too much.
Erdbeere

I hit send.

“Not texting Max? He's only out in the hall,” Mand mentioned as she continued scrubbing at my face.
“Ha, ha, just letting Stefan know we won't be at the bar.”
“It would be more rock and roll than dinner with your rents.”
“Yeah,” I agreed.
“Right, that's that lot off.”
“One lot off, another lot on,” I sighed.
“You do that and I'll get everything packed up, you keeping those shoes on?”
“Don't think trainers exactly go with the dress.”
“Maybe not,” she confirmed, “hey, there's a bar back here.”
“Bar?”
“Well there's some sprits,” there was some chinking of bottles, “red, white and a crate of beer.”
“A crate?”
“Yep.”
“You thinking what I'm thinking?”
 
“What are you two grinning at?” Max asked.
“For us to know,” Mand told him tapping the side of her schnozz.
“We all here?” Dad enquired.
“Where's Jules and Bern?”
“They're staying for the rest of the concert, they'll meet us at the restaurant,” Mum advised.

To be honest I wouldn't have minded seeing the 'support act' myself, guess there'll be other times.

“Come on then, tables booked for ten thirty,” Dad informed us.
 
We'd exited the Rhein Halle, via the stage door of course, before I siddled up to Max, ”So?”
“So what?”
“Duh, so how did I do?”
“Terrible, you murdered half the songs and you were out of tune.”
“Did not and Stefan says i've got perfect pitch!” I shot back.
“He's kidding kiddo,” Mum put in from behind us.
“He better be.”
“You were great, honest,” my BF tagged on.
“Hmmph!”
“This looks like the place,” Dad advised.

You couldn't make it up, surely there aren't two places called Der Hafen on Bonn waterfront?
 
“Beere!” Little Jo shouted across the bar area when our party shuffled inside.

I waved back, well I could hardly ignore them could I?

“Guys!”

Looks like Dad's quiet post concert dinner won't be quite so quiet afterall. I'm guessing the management are used to post concert patrons, our restaurant booking was adjusted to add my bandmates who, in the face of common expectations, were actually not doing the 'sex and drugs and rock an' roll bit. Saints they aren't, but even on a post gig high they weren't in their cups, just, well, a bit boystrous.
 

“Urgh, what a night,” Mand opined.
“Yeah,” Bern agreed, “the last time I went to a concert was Take That.”
“Well you couldn't mistake that lot for Take That,” my Sister mentioned.
“Not with Kate Bush here in the line up,” Mum wasn't about to be left out of the conversation.
“Who's Kate Bush?” I asked.
“Someone your Dad had a bit of a crush on, she had a penchant for that sort of get up.”
“Gabrielle Bond, eighties rock chick,” Jules guffawed.
“Erdbeer,” Mand corrected.
“Yeah, very rocky, next you'll be teaming up with Banana and Plum, you'll have to rename yourselves as Soft Fruit!”
“She's already got Nutty,” Bernie added, “that drummer guy is seriously bonkers.”
“Very funny.”

if anyone was hoping for a proper dinner, well they'd still be waiting, instead we ended up with more of free for all buffet. Not just free flowing food of course, liquid sustenance wasn't in short supply either although with my parents and Max keeping an eye on me I only managed a couple of glasses of red wine in the alcoholic stakes. My sibling, her partner and even the Preiser's weren't, however, so cautious, the other members of the band probably drank less!
 
“Who's going with who?” Dad asked when we got back to our transport.
“I'll take Bernie and Marty,” Mum suggested.
“Good luck with that,” I muttered to Mart under my breath.
“Okay,” Dad agreed, “come on you lot, into the van.”
 
As I made myself comfortable I had a sudden pang of guilt, i've still not replied to all those SMS, well meeting Stefan and co at the restaurant sort of got in the way. I hope they got home okay. We followed Mum out to the Autobahn but at gone midnight, by the time we got up the on ramp the A Klasse was but a pair of red dots in the distance on the almost empty road.
 

“So how did it go last night?” Lisbet enquired as I helped reorganise her office after our morning tutorial.
“Last night?” I absently replied.
“The concert? That is why you asked for yesterday’s absence wasn't it?”
“Er yeah, the concert.”
“So?” she persisted.
“I think it went okay.”
“Only think? You want coffee?”
“Er thanks, well no one walked out as far as I know.”
“If I know you at all, thats a veiled 'it went very well'.”
“I guess.”
“You are allowed to be excited, show some emotion you know.”
“To be honest Lisbet, its sort of all a bit of a blur still.”
“Go on,” she handed me a cup of coffee, the just passable filter stuff that the college catering supply.
“Well the gig seemed to be over before it started and then afterwards we all ended up in this place down near the river, bit of a post gig party with added parental units.”
“Sounds fun.”

I think she was being sincere.

“So you didn't drink too much then?”
“Hardly, it was more snog and Pommes than sex and drugs,” I supplied taking a sip of the luke warm coffee.
My lecturer collapsed into hysterics, “you could be a comedian Gaby Bond,” she finally got out.
“Don't think so, i've enough on my plate already.”
“So who do I look for in the news, I take it you have a stage name?”
“Er yeah,” I allowed even as I started to colour up.
“Which is?”
“Erdbeer,” I mumbled.
“Sorry, didn't quite catch that, I thought you said Erdbeer.”
“That's what it is,” I admitted.
Lisbet grinned, “seriously? Now this i've got to hear.”

I gave a sigh and slumped back into the embrace of the institutional sofa, this may take some time.

“Well the whole thing is Max's fault, if he hadn't taken me to the local road house instead of to Maccy D's none of this would've happened.”

And so I started recounting my career with BlauHase from getting drugged up at Mayschoß, the sleepover in Bonn and of course Moselfest.
 
“But why Erdbeer?” Lisbet asked.
“Well, my hair was more er, pink, its faded quite a bit since then, so I stood out a bit and Stefan called me out and its kind of stuck.”
“Could've been worse I guess, you could be Banana,” Lisbet chuckled.
“Don't, strawberry is bad enough,” I stated.
“So there anymore gigs in the pipeline then? We gonna see you at the Lanxess next?”
My turn to chuckle, “not likely, more likely Koblenz Stadthalle if anywhere.”
“And I should believe that,” she retorted.
“The Rheinhalle was a one off, some sort of showcase thing.”
“If you say so.”

 
“Hello?” I didn't recognise the number on the Handy's screen.
“Is that Gabrielle? Gabrielle Bond?”
“Er yeah, who is this, how did you get my number?”
“Sorry, Sigi from Rot Media, you gave me your number?”

the cogs in my noggin slowly ground through the details, oh right, the Apollinaris photo shoot thing.

“Oh right, hi, sorry but theres been a lot going on lately and I'm struggling to keep up.”
“Thats okay, look, Hugo asked me to call, let you know what's what.”
Hugo, the chap in charge I think, ”going on?”
"Sorry its been so long, we had some technicals with the er, skin suit, we're usually much faster.”
“You need to paint me again?”
“No, no, nothing like that, it just took a bit longer to do the morphing, we kept losing the green band so we had to do it by hand, no its all done, no I'm ringing to let you know its going to air tonight, right after the evening news.”
“Bum, I'll be out, I guess we can tape it.”
“Look, we aren't really supposed to, client property and all that but I can't see that it'll be a problem as it'll be public anyway.”
“What?”
“Well I can burn you a copy, put it in the post then you'll have a clean copy for posterity.”
“Oh cool, yes please Sigi!” I enthused.
“Okay, i've got your address as Dernau?”
“Ten Zaungarten,” I confirmed.
“Okay, I'll sort that out, I think you'll like what we've done.”
“As long as the rents don't fall in how you did the suit.”
“Hopefully not or we haven't done our job very well, anyway, have to get on, bodies to paint and all that!”
“Thanks for calling Sigi.”
“No problem, take care and good luck for the future.”
“Cheers, tschuss.”
“Tschuss.”

Well I wasn't expecting that, best let everyone know, fame in my own bath water.
 

“Ingrid said she'll tape it for me,” Pia advised as we waited with the rest of the Alle Stern for Hannah to appear.
“Its not that big of a deal.”
“Not a big deal! Geez Gab, you're in an advert, on the tv.”
I shrugged, “i bet it only goes out once.”
“After spending all those euros to make it? Yeah right, you're famous Gab whether you like it or not. Talking of which, Thursday, like wow!”
I started my usual change of colour, “you enjoyed it then?”
“Well apart from missing the Express but that was Con's fault, nothing to do with you.”
“She never said when I spoke to her earlier.”
“I bet, she insisted it would be quicker to walk than wait for the bus back to the bahnhof, so we missed the fast train down and then of course the Express is only once an hour at that time and we missed the last one, Dad had to come and fetch us from Remagen.”
“Bet he was pleased.”
“You know Dad.”
“So the gig?” I suggested, well I like to get others opinions, I'm not just a sycophant.
“Oh right, yeah mega”
“You already said that.”
“Well it was, I know you can warble a bit, are sure that was you?”
“I'll forget you said that Sebenschuh.”
“Its a compliment Gab, honest.”
“You don't think the dress and stuff was a bit, you know, over the top?”
“You kidding? You're in a band, its supposed to make a statement that stuff.”
“Yeah but was it the right statement?”
“Well if you wanted to say Haus Frau from the Eifel, no. You were most definitely rock chick, international music star. Did Steff really make that?”
“I certainly didn't and you can't exactly go in H&M and buy one.”
“Yet,” she giggled, “you certainly looked sexy as hell up there.”

Joy, its a wonder I'm not grounded for looking 'sexy as hell'.

“You two coming?” Hannah called from the Tanzklub door.

When did she get here?
 

“Lets see it then,” I enthused when I got home.
“See what?” Jules queried.
“Your sister is in the new Apollinaris advertising,” Mum mentioned.
“Are there any pies you haven't got a finger in Gab?”
“Don't think we want fingers in our pies, the customers wouldn't like it.”
“Gott, you can be so literal sometimes,” she complained.

I did the adult thing and stuck my tongue out.

“Give over you two, let your mother finish watching this then I'll put it on Gab.”
“'kay, anyone want a drink?”

Boris raised a hand from under my sister, I hadn't even noticed him there.

“Tea, coffee Bor?”
“Whatever Beere.”

Beere! Ooo!

“Wouldn't mind a coffee kiddo,” Dad suggested.
 
Mum's programme was one of those typical Friday night jobs we get in these parts, a pretty nasty sketch show – each to their own I guess. Anyhow, it had finished before I returned with a tray of coffee, Dad was fussing with the video recorder, they really should make them adult proof, I mean, what's so difficult?

“Here we go,” he sat back into his armchair.
“Let me get sat first.”
“I think there's some stuff before it.”
“You seen it already? “ Mum asked.
“Had a look while you were sorting dinner.”
 
To be honest I had no idea what they were gonna do, I just sat on the bikes and looked where they said. Of course it didn't last long, thirty seconds maybe but I'm well impressed. It started with me apparently riding through the countryside in the 'civvies', a sort of dream bubble with a cartoon me racing along and winning some sort of race. Then there was the splurge about the new Apollinaris 'fortified' water before civvie me took a drink and morphed into racing me. Clearly the message was drink this and you'll realise your dreams.

I looked hard at the image, Sigi was right earlier, I know I was essentially naked but you couldn't tell on the TV screen. Not that an actual skinsuit hides very much but it does, well flatten stuff but there on the screen the girls are, whilst perky, unrestricted by clothing. Anyone with two working eyes will be able to tell I'm naked, talk about mortified, I waited for the shoe to drop but I guess people see what they expect to.

“How do they do that?” Mand asked the room in general.
“Search me,” I admitted.
“They've got computer programmes do most of it, like in the movies?” Boris opined, “looking hot there Beere.”

Well he didn't see it coming, Jules lamped him a good one round the lug hole.

“Ow!”
“Do not lust after my sister!”

I couldn't help snorting in amusement.

“Don't worry Jules, I've got my own perv, not interested in yours.”
“Who'd have two daughters?” Dad mentioned.
“You apparently, Daddykins,” my sister observed.
“I meant, who wants two daughters, free to a good home.”
“I'll take this one,” Boris advised, “even if she is the green eyed devil.”
“Huh,” Jules retorted, “i've got blue eyes!”
“Guess we can cope with a little un then,” Mum proposed.
“I am here,” I pointed out.
“And very cute too,” Mater told me.

Grrrr! That flippin' c word!

“We done with this advert?” Dad asked.
“Can we keep the tape?” I asked as innocently as I could.
“I suppose so, its Memorex.”
 
© Maddy Bell 22.02.2019

 
“Sorry I didn't get to see you guys at the Rhein Halle,” I told Con and Nen.
“You've said that like five times,” Con replied with a roll of her eyes.
“Yeah well I am.”
“So you keep saying, is that Schnitzel ready to go in?”

Oh the life of a rock star!

 
“So when does the singing one perform again?” Nen asked once we had the store organised.
“Dunno, we've not discussed it yet.”
“So there will be a next time then?” Con posed.
I shrugged, “i guess.”

To be honest I really enjoyed Thursday night, oh I know I was nervous beforehand but once I got over that it was great fun. Thing is, do I want to do it more seriously? Will that make it less fun and what about racing and college and well, everything else?

 
November is definitely low season for tourists, there're a few about still but the Ahrtal is hardly a top destination even in the summer months so with the cooler, shorter days, well you get the idea.

“You think this is what its going to be like all winter?” Nen queried, our last customer left ten minutes ago and we were all propping up the counters.
“Hope not, its hardly worth opening,” Con doomfully observed.
“What we need is something to pull people in.”
“Like what Brain of Deutschland?” Con asked.
“I dunno.”
“Well you're a lot of help.”
“Some sort of event?” I proposed.
“Like a sale, get ten percent off today or something?” Nen suggested.
“Not that sort of event,” I told the assembled masses, “we did well when the RTF was here.”
“Nobody does that sort of thing this time of year plus it'd take weeks to organise,” Connie pointed out.
“True,” I sighed, “some sort of food thing?”
“Würst eating,” Nena suggested.
“Sounds a bit lame,” Con noted.
Not put off, Nen had another go, “got it, a BlauHase concert! That'd be sure to drag them in.”
“You on something?”
“Well I think thats a brill idea,” Con put in.
“I think you've both been on the funny mushrooms.”

Our conversation was however cut short, there might not be many customers about so we can't afford to let any pass by, Nen pretty much pounced on Hen and the guys when they pulled up.

“Penny for 'em?” Mum offered finding me staring into space in the kitchen.
“Eh? Oh its nothing.”
“Must be something,” she pointed out, “you were miles away all through dinner.”
“Its the cabin.”
“Thought it might be, whats up?”
“Down really, trade that is, no tourists to speak of, it'll probably get worse before it gets better.”
“Thinking of shutting?”
“Its an option, for the weekends at least, Con says its not been bad during the week.”
“But?”
“Lots of buts,” I admitted, “plus side we don't pay out wages if we close, down side no one gets paid if we're shut.”
“You don't need to work Gab, your allowance should keep you in mascara.”
“Wasn't so much me I was thinking about, I know Nen and Kristin sort of rely on their wages.”
“You aren't running a charity Gab.”
“I know that but I sort of feel we have some responsibility though.”
“Thats all very nice kiddo but if there's no business...”
I sighed, “even so.”
“What does Connie think, its her business too.”
“Not really sure.”
“Have you got any ideas how to improve things then?”
“Top idea at the moment is a BlauHase concert,” I told her.
“Not such a bad idea.”
“Yeah, I can hear that conversation, hi Stefan, you guys doing anything the weekend, the kiosk needs a boost, thought you could do a concert. Seriously Mum, its not exactly a realistic idea is it?”
“Maybe not as you paint it but I can see it working for everyone.”
“Go on, I'm all ears.”
“Well,” she paused, clearly working something through the grey matter, “lets just say there was a charity that needed funds, and a band were up for helping with that and the kiosk offered itself as a venue?”
“Still listening.”
“So the charity gets exposure and maybe some income, the band get exposure and some kudos and the venue gets kudos and some extra income.”
“But we'd need licences and stuff wouldn't we?”
“Possibly, maybe more than one gig, different bands, not every week of course but perhaps alternate weeks,” Mum went on.

I rolled the vision orbs, talk about another planet!

 
Any further discourse was put on hold by Mand yelling from the lounge.

“Your ad's on again Gab!”

I was like greased lightning, there was probably one of those dust trains like on the cartoons as I headed for the family room. Okay, I know i've seen it but its still sort of exciting to be on the telly.

 
Sunday arrived far too soon, well when Dad suggested team Bond go for a ride before I go to work it sounded like a good idea, I hadn't thought he meant getting up in the dark. Well not dark exactly but the bottom of the valley is certainly not seeing the sun yet, when I looked outside everything was cloaked in greyness. With a sigh I pulled on my cycling kit, supplementing the shorts with a pair of three quarter tights – well summer has long since departed.

We don't often get a chance for a family breakfast, everyone is out at different times in the week and there's usually something going on at the weekends. It was therefore a bit of a surprise to get to the kitchen to find it laid for a full on German breakfast. Brötchen, cheese, meat, a rack of toast and pots of yoghurt. Its not exactly a fry up but its a bit healthier.

“Morning kiddo,” Mum greeted me, “get started, the eggs won't be long.”
“'kay, what's the occasion?” I enquired pulling a chair out.
“Just thought it'd be nice, thought we'd go over to Linz, do a loop round to the next ferry then back over the top, we can leave you at the kiosk.”
“We got time for that?” I queried helping myself to coffee.
“I reckon so.”

The egg timer started beeping, by the time they were rescued from the water Dad and Mand had joined us.

“I've put you some lights on,” Dad mentioned taking his seat.
“Lights?”
“Only Bobby dodgers but they're better than nothing, its quite misty out there.”
“Should be clearer down by the Rhein,” Mum mentioned, “its just a bit of inversion.”
“What's that?” Mand asked.
“You get it when its cooler in the valley than higher up,” Mum explained, “eggs everyone?”

We set off into the 'inversion', LED's flashing, a little over half an hour later. At half seven on a November Sunday morning there's hardly anyone about, a few people doing the bakery run but not much traffic at least. It was a steady ride down past Ahrweiler before turning off the bypass to take the lane down to Sinzig. The fog was much thinner down here, just as Mum predicted and we picked up the pace a little on the road down to the Kripp ferry.

“Nearly had you there kiddo.”
“I had to hop that pot hole,” I complained as we pulled up at the top of the ramp.
“Looks like we beat the fahre,” Mand observed, “first one's at eight on Sunday's”

We dismounted, parked the bikes and sat ourselves on the wall to catch the bit of weak sunshine forcing otself through the straggles of mist along the river. It was nice to just sit there, after the last few weeks some time to relax is welcome to say the least. I guess fame has its price, lack of 'me' time being the main casualty, well for me anyhow.

“'s coming,” Mand told us.

The gentle throb of the ferry's engines drifted across the river from the Linz bank before it appeared wraithlike in mid stream. I guess we aren't quite the only early starters today, half a dozen cars came off and whilst we were waiting about the same number had gathered on our shore. We rode down the slipway and onto the 'Linz', parking the bikes against the gunwhale near the now front.

I don't know what it is but I always find travelling on these river ferries fascinating. Maybe its their ability to transport you to forbidden roads, there are surprisingly few bridges across the Rhein. Or possibly its the forced unhurried break from those same roads, whatever it is, it always seems to be over too quickly.

“Don't think we need the lights now,” Mum noted as we prepared to disembark.
“Yeah,” I agreed, “which way're we going?”
“Thought we'd go up to the top, we can run down to Hönningen then for the ferry back.”
“Joy,” Mand allowed.

The ramp ground up the slip, the conductor opened the chain and we pushed off up the concrete slope. Instead of taking the sort of bypass past the old town we went straight under the railway arch and up through the narrow, cobbles of the main street. Well I guess its not such a grind even if its steeper, it certainly gets the lungs working a bit even if you're with your Mum!

We slipped out onto the main road at the top and resumed the two plus one formation that three riders inevitably produces. It might be uphill but we were soon ticking along a little shy of twenty kph, not exactly dawdling and restricting the conversation somewhat. Mum pointed us up the Roßbach, a bit steeper but a few K shorter than the usual route up to the top.

“Thought, huh, we were doing steady, huh,” I got out.
“Making up a bit of time,” Mum suggested, annoyingly without breaking her breathing, “you okay Mand?”

The grunt from behind us suggested alright wasn't quite the description, thankfully Mum took the hint and eased the pace off a bit. The Westerwald isn't quite as full of trees as the Schwarzwald down in Baden but there are still quite a lot and we were soon tapping through the forest that blankets much of the upper slopes. The bad news is that the surface deteriorated somewhat, according to Dad its the drip off the trees does it, can't see how but you can't deny the evidence.

 
Eventually we reached the top road and turned right before Mum indicated Mand should come through. Huh, leave me to do all the work! Manda rotated and we were soon recovered enough to bowl along in the high twenties through alternating areas of shade and sunshine.

“Glad that's over.”
“For now,” I opined, mindful of what awaits us back across the Rhein.
“You going to do any cross this year?”
“Don't think I'll be able to, you know with the Kiosk and stuff.”
“I guess.”
“You doing the track league again?”
“Think so, Roni was talking about doing it.”
“Its good for bike skills,” Mum piped up from behind.
“So's cross,” I suggested.
“If you like getting muddy,” Mand mentioned.

I blew her a raspberry.

 
Maybe my life is getting too full if I'm starting to miss out on stuff? Not sure how I can address that, pull back from the kiosk or sacrifice the cross racing, I don't want to do either, at the moment its the 'extra' cycling that's gonna take the hit. I guess if we closed the hut for the winter I could do the cross instead but I don't want to use it as a stick.

“Right!” Mum called as we approached the Hönningen road.
“Got it,” I called back.

Compared to the climb up, the road we were on to return to the river was much nicer, fairly straight, well after a couple of tight turns at the top, better surfaced and it quickly became a friendly race to the bottom. There really is quite a thrill when you are descending at close on sixty K, the only things between us and disaster two tiny strips of rubber and our riding skills. Yeah, if I had to cut back on stuff, the last thing on the list would be giving this up.

At these speeds, pedalling no longer really adds anything other than a degree of balance control. We even overtook a couple of cars as we approached the town, the speed trap flashing up seventy three – oops, its a fifty limit! I just edged Mand for the name board before we all threw out the anchors, a bit of brake squealing and our forward motion was slowed to a more acceptable level.

Mum took the lead through the town, at approaching nine the place was just waking up, we snaked through the main street in single file before turning down to the Rheineck ferry. This one tends to be a bit busier than the Linz crossing, even on a Sunday there are two ferries running. We'd just missed one but the next was already heading into the slip as we joined the already queuing traffic.

“That was a blast,” Mand stated before taking a pull on her bidon.
“Still beat you,” I crowed.
“I had to brake for that car.”
“Excuses, excuses.”
“Anyone want some flapjack?” Mum offered.

Come on Mum, get real! We'd no sooner claimed the food before they started loading the ferry, there's no hanging about on these things. I gripped my flapjack between my teeth to board our transport, okay, not a good look but better than trying to ride with one hand over the ramp!

Back on the 'right', well actually left I guess, side of the river, we crossed into Rheineck to start the long climb up into the Eifel, I did manage to get myself at the back this time. The sun was out but there was little heat in it, just as well given the more open nature of the countryside this side of the river. We tapped along at a decent pace, Mum and Mand were chatting away quite happily, I was quite happy just sat behind in their wake.

Well I was until I saw the time.

“Sugar!”
“What's up kiddo?” Mum asked over her shoulder.
“I'm supposed to be at the kiosk in like ten minutes.”
“Not happening,” Mand pointed out.
“Obviously.”

Well you couldn't cover the twenty K from Waldorf to Altenahr in a car in that time.

“You want to crack on then Gab, I'll ring your Dad and get him to meet you up there.”

Well, its not what i'd like but at least I won't be quite as late.

“Can you let Con know as well?”
“I'll ring her,” Mand offered.
“Cheers, 'kay, see you later.”

 
I took a swig of water and with a quick wave, accelerated away from the others – well I suppose they were pulling up to ring Dad. The shortest route is up and over the top, past Staffel then drop down to Ahrbrück, there's flatter routes but they aren't any quicker as they are much longer. To be truthful, I wasn't really going much quicker than we were as a trio, on the other hand, when the gradient does start to bite I can keep the pressure on.

Whilst I started out watching the seconds and metres ticking by, my thoughts started to drift, drift to yesterdays conversations regarding the kiosk. What do I really think, should we close for the winter or try to strong arm through. There's so many things to consider, the staff, the customers, the costs – its certainly not an easy thing to decide on.

So lost in my thoughts was I that I was caught unawares by the steep ramp above Vingt, I ended up almost crawling up the steepest bit. Nearly twenty past, Gott, at this rate it'll be eleven before I get to the Kabin, at least there's not too much more climbing. It felt like forever but eventually I was past the Beilstein turn and starting to descend, its not quite all downhill just mostly.

Its not the fastest descent, what with the villages and turns but I put my mind to the job and tried to run as clean a line as possible. I hit some high numbers at times – nothing like earlier but still on the edge for the road. Swinging onto the main road in Ahrbrück I checked the time, ten forty five, well its not far now.

 
Almost four kilometres, seven minutes, not too shabby I guess. Of course I was now a perspiring mess, I hung over my handlebars to get my breath.

“That was quick,” Dad offered spotting me, thought you were at Waldorf?”
“Was, huh, came over, huh, the top.”
“Think your mother's coming Adenau way.”

I managed a nod before clambering off my steed.

“Your kit's inside, go sort yourself out, i've got this.”

I wonder what 'kit' he's brought up? Con and Kris had the kiosk under control of course so after a quick hi I grabbed my bag and went into the storeroom to get changed.

 
“Thats better,” I allowed tying my apron on as I joined the others.
“Your Dad's gone, said he'll pick you up later,” Con told me.
“'kay, coffee?”

Well you have to service the inner woman right? And somehow Dad had picked some quite serviceable togs, plain undies, pedal pushers and a T shirt – maybe not exactly what i'd have worn but not daft at least.

 
© Maddy Bell 25.02.2019

 
“Did you speak to your Rents?” I asked Con a bit later, business has been a bit better today, I guess the thin sunshine has encouraged a few extra bodies out for the day.
“Sort of, in passing.”
“Sort of?”
“Well I just mentioned it had been slow all day.”
“And?”
“That was it really, you had any more ideas how to whip up some extra business?”
“Well not really, Mum's got some barm pot idea though.”
“What's barm pot?” Kris asked.
I had to think twice, why did I say that? “er, you know, daft.”
“She's been reading English books again,” Con suggested, “so what is this daft idea then?”
“It really is stupid,” I opined.
“Well try us,” she insisted.
“You asked for it, well you remember the gig idea?”
“Yeah,” Con allowed.
“Well, she reckons if we promoted it as a charity thing it would get some support, the band get exposure, the charity gets funds and we hoover up some extra business.”
“Sounds good to me,” Kris put in.
“Wait for it, there's more,” I went on, “then she said we should do a series of them, how daft can you get?”
“Like every week?” Con queried.
“No, she was on about alternate weeks.”
“Whats so daft about that?”
“Well, just supposing I could get the guys interested, they won't want to do it every fortnight and what charity would be interested to get involved?”
“Lots of charities, they all want donations,” Kris pointed out.
“Yeah,” I agreed, “but its a pretty half baked idea, it'd take loads of organising, we'd need permits and stuff, lets face it, its a bit beyond us, we're supposed to be doing the Weihnachtsmarkt remember.”
Con sighed, “i hadn't forgotten.”
“What about the New Year?” Kristin posed.
“What about it?” I asked.
“Well, there'd be time to organise stuff, there's never much happening so I'm sure people would come out.” the hired help pointed out.
“What if it snows or something?”
“Well you could probably hire one of those marquee things, cover the garden area.”
“She might have something there,” Con mentioned.

Still sounds a bit far fetched to me.

“I bet there's loads of people would help if its for charity,” Kris opined.
“We can talk to mum and dad later,” my BF enthused, “you are coming for Tatort tonight?”
 

I thought that my riding companions might've stopped at the the Kiosk but apparently they met Dad at Adenauer for lunch which is why he took off this morning.

“See you later,” Con called back into the car, well it would've been a bit peevish not to give her a ride back to Dernau wouldn't it.
“Yeah, later.”
We set off to complete our journey, “i take it you're going round for your telly programme?” Dad suggested, “you eating there?”
“Er yes to both,” I agreed.
“We're taking your sister out to dinner, they're driving back first thing.”

I'd forgotten about Jules and Boris, they went up to stop at his parents yesterday, i've hardly seen them apart from after the gig and Friday night.

“I can cancel with Con?”
“Up to you, I don't suppose anyone would mind you not coming.”

We pulled up at Bond Acres, why's life so complicated?
 
“See you in December Sis,” Jules told me as we hugged.
“Yeah, take care down there.”
“And you.”

We broke our hug and I set off for Thesing's and an evening of terrible telly and excellent food.
 

As usual Therese did us proud with a full on blow out, Beef Strogonoff this week, pretty much all from scratch, no Knorr packet or anything, well I think the pasta was bought but like everyone uses packet pasta. We had a citrus torte for dessert after which I made coffee while Con put the dishwasher into action.

“Guys?” Con started once we were settled in front of the TV, “you know the kiosk?”

And so, with a bit of input from me, Con explained the whole concert thing to her parents.

“Sounds like a good idea,” Thomas opined once Con had outlined Mums proposal.
“And you'll keep it open right through?” Therese asked.
“I guess,” Con allowed.
“Well its your decision girls, you're in charge but i've a proposal for you.”
“'kay,” Con agreed.

I nodded my consent.

“This is only an idea,” Therese mentioned again, “keep it open until the end of the month, then close at the weekends until January, that'll give you a bit more leeway with the market. Then in January reopen with these concerts, I'm sure there are enough people who'll help with organising stuff, Herr Sebenschuh for example. Easter all the tourists will be back so it'll be back to full service.”
“What about the girls, they'll be out of a job for like six weeks,” I pointed out.
“If its just Kristin and Nena i think we could redeploy them to the bakery if they wanted to, you know it gets fairly busy here,” Herr T suggested.
“What about me and Gab?”
“Don't worry about me,” I put in, “I'll be away for part of December anyway.”
“Not Japon again?” Tomas queried.
“No such luck, its a team training camp down south somewhere.”
“So what do you think?” Therese asked.
“Works for me,” I told the assembly of Thesing's.
“Con?”
“Well it would be nice to have a bit of a break from it.”
“That's settled then,” Tomas stated, “i'll talk to a few people, see what hoops we need to jump through.”
 

For the first time, probably since I left Silverberg Gymnasium in the Spring, my life took on a more predictable and settled pattern. College down in Koblenz Monday to Friday, and for the time being Saturday and Sunday at the Kiosk. Of course there's Cheer practice on Mondays, Garde on Fridays and slotted around all this, my mostly indoor bike training.

Preparations for the Weihnachtsmarkt moved ahead surprisingly easily, the workload spread between many hands – I even managed to fit in some Max time! As for the charity gigs, well I struck a deal with BlauHase, I do their Neu Jahre gig in Bonn and they sort out the bands – guess I won't spend New Year in a castle this time around. Yeah, everything was going hunky dory.
 
“You got a minute kiddo?” Dad enquired from the cellar steps as I put another load into the washer.
“Er sure, let me just put this on and I'll be with you.”
“In the study,” he advised before disappearing.

Wonder what he wants me for? We have talked about me doing a limited cross season through December and into January, maybe thats it. I finished stuffing socks and knickers into the machine, put the soap in and set the well used machine into action. Okay Dad, I'm all yours.
 

“What do you know about Artistic Cycling?” Dad enquired when I joined him in the office.
“What's that? You have to draw pictures or something?”
“Not exactly, more like gymnastics but on a bike.”
“They do that on BMXers yeah, freestyle or something, there were some kids into it when we went to Virginia.”
He raised a brow, very 007, “have a look at this.”

A moment later I was watching a video clip on his laptop.
 
“How the heck is she doing that? Huh, never! On one wheel?”

It was clearly a pretty amateurish bit of filming but it showed what the girl was doing well enough. I guess bike gymnastics about sums it up, unlike the BMXers I saw whose tricks were all jumping and chucking the bike about, the girl was using her bike as a platform for some pretty impressive balance and control moves. How she was doing it, practice I guess and not a crash hat or skinsuit in sight, well okay she was wearing a leotard and tights but you get the idea.

“So what do you reckon?” Dad asked once the clip ended.
“Different, how did she balance like that?”
“No idea kiddo but how'd you fancy finding out?”
“Erm.”
“Not my idea, your friend Herr Obermeyer has suggested it.”
“Frank? Whatever for, I do road.”
“Well I don't think he wants you to change from that but he thinks you might benefit from doing something different over the winter.”
“I'm gonna do the cross aren't I?”
“I think he wants to stretch you a bit, cross is only road with mud for the most part.”
“I guess,” I allowed.
“He'd like you to attend the next training session for the National squad, its the day before the training camp.”
“There's a National team for this?”
“So I'm told, its in the pipeline to come under the UCI in the next couple of years. So what do you reckon?”
“Dunno,”
“You might enjoy something different,” he hinted.
“I do Garde and Cheer.”
“So you're halfway there already, you have good bike skills and control from the dance stuff, this'll put the two together.”
“What about Mand?”
“This is the Federation not Apollinaris kiddo.”
Well I guess it'll score some Brownie points with HQ, “go on then, I'll be no good at it though.”
 

I lay in bed, staring up at the stars through the rooflight. Artistic cycling, whatever next? Its clearly very skillfull but its hardly real cycling is it? And what use is the ability to do a handstand on the saddle in a proper race? I suppose it won't hurt to humour Frank for a day but really, what a waste of time.

To be honest, the vid Dad showed me was quite intrigueing, how would you even think its a thing? How would you get into it even? I mean, road or track or even cross, they're on the telly, you see people riding, I can see that. But this Artistic stuff, you certainly don't see it on the TV or people doing it on the street, do they do it in circuses? Guess I might find out at this 'training' day.

But thats a couple of weeks away, in the meantime I need to do some cyclocross training. Hmm, if I take my crosser up to the all weather pitch tomorrow I can get a couple of hours in, they've got lights and I won't get covered in mud. Have to get Dad to check one of the bikes out to use, I'll leave him a note in the morning.

And so Gaby 'normal' took on another new element.
 

“Sounds like an intriguing idea,” Lisbet mentioned as we shared a few minutes for coffee.
“Well it was Mum's idea really but its sort of taken off on its own now.”
“Like mother, like daughter.”
“Hardly!” I snorted.
She shook her head, “Gaby Bond, why can't you just accept compliments? There's nothing wrong in accepting praise when its due.”
“And if it isn't? Due that is.”
“You'll know the difference,” my lecturer told me.
I sighed, “its not like i do anything special, I'm not the only one involved with this or the Weihnachtsmarkt.”
“You say that but from what i've seen and heard, things happen around you.”
“Disasters usually.”
“Not disasters Gaby, I don't know what it is but you have it, you inspire others.”
“I'd prefer to just be ordinary.”
“Somehow Gabrielle Bond I don't think you'll ever be 'just ordinary', she told me with air quotes.
“No,” I sighed in agreement.
“Oh, whilst I think about it, you're training camp is signed off by the office.”
“Er thanks.”
“I'll make sure there are lecture notes for you when you get back.”
“I'm not missing anything important am I?”
“No, no tests and the seminar will only be going over the stuff we've been covering this semester and you're well up with all of that.”
“I am?”
“Gaby, trust me, some of your course mates are already struggling, you on the other hand seem to grasp everything at the first pass. Missing what is essentially revision won't hurt you at all.”
 

I can't deny that my conversation with Frau Olafsdottir lifted my spirits somewhat, I'm not one to brag but that doesn't mean I don't appreciate what she was saying. Maybe I should take more credit, be more prideful – nah, I'll let my actions do the talking, braggarts don't have many friends and I value mine, I don't know where i'd be without them.
 

“Happy Birthday dear Manda, happy birthday to you!”

Yep, Mand turned seventeen today, so we're having a bit of a family party, well she's sort of an honory Angel so the girls are here, Bern too, well she doesn't get out much what with Drea and living out at Staffel. Which in turn means Marty is here, so Freddy and Max ended up being invited too.
Miss de Vreen took a deep breath and blew out the candles in one.

“Make a wish,” Bern prompted.
“I wish....”
“Don't tell us,” Pia quickly put in, “or it won't come true.”
“Really?” Bridg stated.
“Presents!” I chirped, okay they're not for me but its still the fun bit of birthday parties right?

Well we're a bunch of teenage girls, the gifts have a tendency to sparkles and smelliness and this gathering didn't let down on that score. Not that everything gifted fell into that category, someone donated a gift card, there was a tin of sweets and I got her a half decent multitool when we were at that Rose place last week – well she's been moaning about the one she's been using for ages.

“One more,” Mum advised as Mand sorted her spoils from the packaging.
“More?” Mand queried.
“Here, from me and Dave, Happy Birthday Manda.” Mum passed her the parcel and gave her a quick hug.
“Well open it then,” Steffi chivvied – its not just me that enjoys the whole gift thing.

It looked suspiciously like a shoe box inside the wrapping paper and so it proved to be, not a pair of girly heels or 'work' shoes, nope the box was easily identified with the DIADORA logo in huge letters across the top.

“Mrs B, I can't.”
“No such word and yes you can, they're a gift, no strings, we do the same with Gaby and Jules.”
“But they're...”
“Mand, you might not be our daughter but you most certainly are part of the family. Now loose those tears and enjoy the rest of the evening.”
 
Well I don't think any of the others quite appreciated how a pair of bike shoes could set Mand a snivelling. Its probably as well they don't know they cost best bit of two hundred euros either, they'd almost certainly think my parents were loopy. Of course there are cheaper shoes but if you are a serious rider its worth the extra to get the fit and comfort.

At this point my rents made themselves scarce for the evening – something about drinks at Max's abode, anyhow that means we can actually hear the music. The alcohol purloined from the Rheinhalle didn't go too far but extra supplies arrived in various Handtusche. Okay, its not exactly an alcohol fuelled riot, but it is a proper party.

“You gonna sing Gab?” Steff asked once cake had been consumed.
“I already did.” I pointed out as I examined Mand's new bike shoes.
“Happy Birthday doesn't count, we were all singing that,” Nena told me.
“Yeah come on Gab, just one?” Bern proposed.
“I haven't got any music.”
“Never stopped you before,” the birthday girl pointed out.

What can you do when your adoring fans beg like that?

“Okay, but just one, what do you want Mand?”
She thought for a moment, “Bicycle Race? You're always singing it and it is kind of appropriate.”
“If that's what you want.”
“Do we know this,” Bridg asked.
“You must've heard her singing it,” Bern observed with a grin.
“Here goes,” I took a deep breath and counted myself in.

 
So of course it didn't end at one song, of course not. I warbled through Red Balloons, half in English, half German and finally called a halt after I Feel Like A Woman. It felt pretty good, everyone was joining in by the last song, yeah it can be quite an ego trip this singing lark.

Singing over it reverted to a typical teen gathering, a couple of people swaying to the canned music but most of the attendees sat talking. The 'Preisers' were all lovey dovey, I don't think Mart's 'rents exactly frown on them getting jiggy but with Drea around and the house isn't that big. Know the problem, getting proper couple time with Max isn't exactly easy even if we do commute together.

It was after eleven before most people departed, the Rents were back and I dragged Max outside for a bit of privacy.
 
© Maddy Bell 26.02.2019

 
“Er can I speak to Gertie, I mean Frau Schmidt please?”
“I'm afraid she's not available at the moment, can I help?”

Okay, so it was a bit of a long shot but when I went up to Bonn the other week she said to call if there was anything she might be interested in for Rhein Abend.

“Its about a story, she told me to ring her?”

The unnamed person at the other end of the phone line must have picked up on my disapointment at not getting through to the magazines presenter, she sounded somewhat more concilatory when she replied.

“I can give her a message?”
“Er yeah,” I agreed, “if you tell her that Gaby Bond called.”
“Gaby Bond the Weltmeisterin?”
“Er yeah.”
“I'm sure she'll get right back to you, oh does she have your number?” she sounded more enthused after identifying me.

I told her my Handy number and finished the call, this whole concert thing is becoming a right monster. It was Mum again who suggested I talk to Gertie, aparently she has become a 'contact', a friendly face in the media. Somehow I seem to be getting dragged into being a 'personality', urgh, what a horrible thought!
 

Of course, there's more going on in my life than these proposed concerts, college and last night, should've been Cheer. Do you know what, I really do miss being in the Foresters back in Warsop, we had some great fun and competitive success, somehow the All Stars don't ignite me quite the same. Hmm, I wonder if Hannah knows anything about that Artistic cycling stuff? Should've asked last night, i'll have to ask her on Friday.

I finished nibbling at my sandwich, it was a bit too crusty to be honest, and washed it down with the last of the Sprite I bought with it. With a bit of a sigh I gathered my stuff, well you'd sigh too if you had two hours of accountancy to look forward to. Is that my Handy trilling? I dug back into my bag and sure enough it was an incoming call.

“Bond,” I offered, well there was no caller ID.
“Gaby? Its Gertie Schmidt.”
“Oh hi, thanks for calling back.”

To be honest I didn't think she'd even get the message.

“Sorry about earlier, I was in a production meeting, Jay only just gave me your message, so what can I do for you Fraulein Bond?”
“Er thats okay,” I offered as I started drifting towards lecture theatre twelve, “so I don't know if you guys would be interested but we're putting on some charity concert type things at the kiosk?”
“We might be struggling, this side of Weihnachts is always full of stuff.”
“They're in the Neu Jahre,” I interrupted.
“Ah, thats different then, so tell me all about it.”

I gave her the bare bones before having to end the call with a promise to get back to her when things are firmed up some, Herr Dumas does not take lateness to his classes lightly.
 
“So everyone know what they're doing on Friday?” Steff posed.

How did it get to Advent so quickly? I looked around the Stube to my friends, mostly the same gang as in the past but bolstered this year by Bernie and of course our three recruits from Silverberg. I hope the Kinderhaus people appreciate our efforts, I'm sure they do but I guess there's always that nagging thought that we're pushing ourselves on them.

“So we'll meet at the kiosk four o'clock?” Steff went on.
“We might be a bit late,” Marty told us.
“Sure we'll cope,” Nen mentioned.
“How long do you think it'll take?” Pia queried.
“We were done by like, nine last year,” Con supplied.
“Looks like we're missing Garde eh Gab's, I'll ring Han and let her know.”

Bum, there goes that idea.

“Er yeah,” I agreed, “i'll ring her, I want to talk to her anyhow.”
“'kay,” P agreed.
“We don't need our Kostum do we?” Frannie asked.
“No “ I offered.
“Thought your trip started Sunday,” Bernie opined.
“It does,” I confirmed, “but i've got some weird training thing to go to on Saturday.”
“Sounds mysterious, i guess we can manage without you,” Steff chuckled.
“Tell 'em what it is then,” Manda prompted.

De Vreen! Urgh!

“Ooh, sounds intriguing,” Nen cooed.
“'tistic cycling,” I mumbled.
“What?” Max queried, “couldn't hear you.”
“Artistic cycling,” I repeated with some resignation.
“That gymnastics stuff on bikes?” Pauline, another Silverberg recruit queried.
“Er yeah, you know about it?”
“Not really, its been on Eurosport sometimes.”
“Gymnastics?” Bridg put in.
“Well not exactly,” Pauline warmed to her subject, “they do all these balancing things on their bikes, sometimes there'll be two together, how they control them stood on the handles...”
“And that's what you're doing Gab?” Steff enquired.
“This I must see,” Max chortled, “she struggles to stay upright on solid ground.”

I gave him my best Paddington stare, I guess it doesn't translate well, at any rate he ignored it.

“We'll see,” I huffed, i've half a mind to not snog him later for that quip.

 
“All sorted?” Dad asked when we got back to Bond Acres.
“Hmmph!” I offered.
“Yeah,” Mand advised, “looks like its all under control.”
“So what's up with you then kiddo?”
“Hmmph!” I repeated.
“Max?” Dad directed to de Vreen.
“Sort of,” Mand told Pater.
“I probably don't want to know do I?”
“Er probably not,” Mand agreed.
“Hmmph!”
 
Mittwoch, Wednesday, was at least sort of ordinary, no birthday parties, no Weihnachtsmarkt meeting just plain old college until lunch and only training when I got home. With Manda still at school well after I got home it was just me pounding the tarmac today, a steady ride up to the 'Ring and back. As usual it cleared my head to think about the important things, maybe I was a bit harsh with Max this morning.

By the time I dropped through the tunnel out of Altenahr I was fantasising about getting up close and personal with von Strechau. My heart wasn't in last nights' departing kiss but hey, its a girls prerogative to be moody, its all the hormones. Right, anyhow, I wonder if he's home yet?

I put my clog down through Mayschoß and slipped into the lane across to the schloss when I reached Rech. Of course the von Strechau family home is nothing like the 'romantic' castles perched on rocky crags all around the region, Dad describes it as a fortified manor house. Whatever you call it, its quite imposing sat amongst the regular housing of the village, I turned onto the cobbles and through the gateway into the cobbled yard.

“Gaby,” Willie, Max's dad greeted me, “been training?”
“Er yeah,” I confirmed bouncing to a halt by the Baron, “is Max home yet?”
“Not seen him but i've only just got back myself, go on in, I'm sure his Oma would like to see you.”
Not exactly mutual, I forced a smile onto my face but I can hardly dive off now can I? “er sure.”

I climbed off my steed, and clacked across to the side door that the family use rather than the main entrance. I have of course been here a few times, well Max is sort of my boyfriend, but even before that the Bonds have been regular visitors here. Anyhow, I propped my bike against the wall, balanced my skid lid on the bars and opened the door to go inside.

“Hello? Max?” the cold stone floor had me almost hopping along the corridor, well I wasn't going to clack about in my cleats.
“Gabrielle?” a voice enquired from the next doorway.

Bum, the Baroness.

“Er yes, Grandma, I was looking for Max,” I told her stepping into the parlour.
“I haven't seen you for sometime,” she sort of accused.
“You were in Rothenburg last time we were here,” I mentioned.
“I recall Gloria mentioning some sort of gathering, but you don't have to have a reason to visit us Gabrielle.”
“Er no, but with college and stuff,” I blustered.
“Gab?” a familiar voice called from the corridor.
“My grandson I think,” the Baroness stated.
“Er yes,” I agreed, “in with your Grandma Max.”
A moment later, he arrived at the door, “hi Gran, dad said you were here Gab, wassup?”
“Speak properly boy,” the dowager Baroness told him firmly.
“Sorry Grandma.”
“And find the poor girl something to wear, she looks positively frozen.”
“Yes Gran, come on Gab, its warmer in the kitchen.”
“A pot of tea would be nice young man.”
“Yes Gran,” he almost kept the sigh out of his reply.
“Er bye Grandma,” I offered as I was tugged out of the parlour.
“We'll see you again soon I think,” I was told.
“Um yes, soon,” I allowed, having to hide my own sigh.

Its not like she's a bad person, the opposite if anything but she can get a bit much if you are exposed too long. She means well but in her head me and Max are all but ready to wed and I'm pretty sure she's the one paying the tab at Eloise Couture. I did ask Max to find out but he either forgot or he's in on it, not sure which, its not like I asked for any of it is it?

“So what's up?” Max enquired once the Baroness' yea was started.
“Has something got to be up? Just thought i'd stop in to, you know.”
“Visit my Oma? Pull the other one Gabrielle Bond.”
“Would you believe I just thought i'd stop to see you?”
“Much more believable, so you want a drink or something?”
“Coffee? Maybe something after,” I hinted.

Compared to most people, the von Strechau's have something a bit more professional for coffee than a drip filter. Not that there's anything wrong with that, with the right beans of course, its what we have at home as i've not convinced the rents that we need a Gaggia yet. On the other hand, here at the schloß they have a rather nice Nuova in the house, there's just something nice in having a steamer and all that.

Not that I was getting a chance to play, Max was already starting on my Cappuccino and had the kettle on for his gran's tea. I perched myself on a chair and tried to rub some life back into my now, freezing tootsies.

“So you been far?”
“Just up to the 'Ring,” I allowed.
“There's some Hausschuh by the door,” he offered.
“Er thanks,” I hopped off the chair and padded over the cold stone.
“Don't know how you do it.”
“Do what?” I asked as i sorted through the slippers for some that weren't designed for Bigfoot.
“Ride all that way, it'd take me forever to get up there.”
“Its only like thirty K,” I pointed out slipping into some cosy knitted booties.
“Only she says,” Max mentioned shaking his head, “thats sixty there and back, most people I know don't do that in a week, I wouldn't do that on the Mofa.”
I gave a shrug, “practice?”
“Here,” he passed me a steaming cup of coffee, “be right back,” and he set off to deliver the tea.
 
I sipped through the froth, hmm, along with the cosy borrowed footwear I felt a bit warmer immediately. Is sixty K a long way? Well I wouldn't want to walk it but its only like a couple of hours riding, mind you, the long downhill helps with that.

Inspiration hit me as Max returned to the kitchen.

“Nothing's ever right for her,” Max supplied, “i forgot the sugar tongs, you'd think she hadn't got fingers.”
“She'd get on with my Nanna,” I admitted. “i was just thinking...”
“Ot oh, that's dangerous,” Max interrupted.
“Huh!”
“Just kidding, so what's this great idea of yours?”
“Well you could come training with me.”
“You been taking something? I'd never keep up would I?”
“What if you could?”
“Go on, I'm listening,” he suggested, taking a sip of his own caffeine supply.
“Well,” I paused, “you could use your Mofa.”
“Hmm, I like your thinking.”
“See, I'm not just a pretty face.”
“Who told you that?”
“Why you!”

I barely saw him move, next second his arms were around me and he was nibbling my ear, hmm, maybe I'll forgive him.

 
“Where's Dad?” I enquired of Mum joining her in the kitchen.
“Holland, i was expecting him back by now.”
“Holland? Whatever for?”
“You'll find out when he gets here, you cooking tonight?”

I kind of walked into that one didn't I?

“What're we having?” I sighed.
“Spag Bol, I picked up some mince and batons earlier.”
Well it could be worse, “okay.”

I quite enjoy cooking as you know but some stuff takes a lot more effort, Spag Bol is however very straightforward. The big pasta pan was soon on the stove and the mince in the pan to brown, we pretty much always have the rest of the makings to hand, tinned tomatoes, onions and of course the contents of the spice rack. Its a pretty quick meal to prepare so it was only twenty minutes later that I yelled out an impending food warning to those lazing in the front room.

It probably sounds like I'm the only one who does anything at Schloss Bond, that of course is not quite the truth. So yes, I end up doing a lot of the cooking but thats largely playing to my strengths, I'm not sure Mand would agree about her chores. Of course we're each responsible for our own rooms but Mand has pulled hoover and duster duty for the family areas in lieu of cooking duties – she can't boil water!
 

“Hmm, something smells good,” Dad mentioned poking his head into the kitchen.
“Bolognese,” I advised, “didn't hear you get back, how was clog land?”
“Clog land? Oh right, flat as ever, how long's the food gonna be?”
“Spag's just gone in, five minutes,” I suggested.
“I'll wash up and find a bottle then.”
“We celebrating something?”
“Maybe,” he allowed with a grin.
“Da-ad!” I complained to his departing back.

The worst bit of cooking pasta is decanting from the pot and rinsing, not made any easier when you have a pot the size we have for cooking it. I've done it enough times to have it all organised, collander over the sink, kettle of boiled water ready and so in clouds of steam I quickly tipped, rinsed and poured the pasta into the serving dish. The sauce went into another pot and the garlic bread retrieved from the oven and onto a plate, find the Parmesan et voila!

 
The feeding frenzy kept conversation to a comestible level for a few minutes and lets face it, eating spaghetti is hardly conducive to conversation.

Mum eventually started things off, “so you got it then?”
“Yup!” Dad grinned from behind his wine glass.
“Got what?” I asked.
“The new motor.”
“You got a new car?”
“Uh huh,” he agreed as he started to reload his fork.
“What is it?” I demanded, “and why did you have to go to Holland?”
“Its a Saab and thats where the dealer is.”
“The same as the one that was nicked?”

You might remember that our bad luck with family cars started when our previous Saab was stolen at the airport. Then of course there was the Mercedes.
“Similar, you can see for yourself after dinner.”
“Its here? But how?”
“I took your Dad up to Köln and he took the train over,” Mum told us.
“Finish your food and you can go take a look.”
 
Okay, I collect model cars and I know what I like to ride in but I'm hardly any sort of car buff, i've no idea what all the stuff under the bonnet is or does. I do know that the old Saab was pretty nice, maybe nicer than the crushed Merc and definitely better than Mum's A. We finished eating, cleared the table and then we all trooped outside to see the new family wheels.

“Nice,” Mand opined.

And indeed it was, a sort of silver grey, tinted glass and of course its an estate.

“What you wanted?” Mum asked peering inside.
“Better,” Dad grinned, “you can get in.”
“Key?” I suggested.
There was a funny bleep and flash of lights, “'s open.”
“Very swizz,” Mater suggested pulling the drivers door open.

“Smells a bit,” de Vreen noted.
“Sort of plasticky,” I agreed, “bit like when we had that hire car.”
“Its because its new,” Mum pointed out.
“The Merc didn't smell when we got it.”
“The Mercedes wasn't new,” Dad put in.
“This is brand new kiddo,” Mum added.
“But how? We got the camper didn't we?”
“Yes,” Dad went on, “but we didn't use the insurance money for that.”
“Can we go for a ride?” I requested.
“I've had a drink or two kiddo, you'll have to wait until the weekend.”
“Oww!” I groaned.
 
© Maddy Bell 11.03.2019

 
Well it was a bit of a disappointment that we couldn't go for a drive in the new car but its still pretty cool to have a brand new motor. The business with the crane was horrible, I mean really terrible, the poor crane driver, it was really sad but out of that has been some good for the Bonds. We'd still have the ten year old Mercedes if things had been different but instead we've got a shiny new Saab 93.

“What are you grinning about?” Max queried as Olaf chauffered us towards another day at college.
“Nothing.”
“Oh come on, you're fizzing like cheap cola.”
“Dad's got a new car.”
“Nice, what's he got, Merc, BMW?”
“Ut uh,” I teased.
“Wasn't he looking at a VW?”
“Think foreign,” I suggested.
“Skoda?”
“Thats just a Vee Dub,” Freddy opined from the front seat.
“I dunno, give up,” Max shrugged, “what is it then?”
“A Saab.”
“Really?”
“Yep, had to get it from a dealer in Venlo,” I advised my audience.
“So how old is it?”
“Its not.”
“Not what?”
“Not old, its brand new.”
“Nice,” Freddy opined, “you won't like slumming it with us then.”
“Whilst I think about it,” the usually stoic Olaf started, “tomorrow, I'm afraid you'll have to make your own way down, i've got a nine o'clock meeting in Trier so I'll be going from home.”
“Sure we'll manage,” Max replied.

Bum, that means the train, its not like Olaf has to bring us each day but you get sort of comfortable with it, I suppose like commuters the world over.

 
It was tempting to just not go to college Friday but lack of a lift wouldn't hold much water with Lisbet or my parents. Willie, Max's dad, actually took the three of us down and brought us back which was useful what with doing the kiosk set up. With all the extra hands we made short work of things, Herr Sebenschuh brought down his spare till, we had the old coffee machine of course and so it was pretty much a case of plugging stuff in and putting up the decoration.

“That everything?” Steff asked.
“Dad'll bring the supplies down first thing in the morning,” Con supplied.
“What about the float for the till?”
“I picked it up from the bank earlier,” Bridg told us.
“Looks like we can go home then,” Steff sighed.
“Sorry about tomorrow,” I offered.
“We'll get our pound of flesh when you get back,” Nen replied.
“Just don't break anything skiing,” P ordered, “either of you.”
“There probably won't be any snow even,” Mand suggested.
 

“Seems a bit weird, you know, not bringing any bike kit to a bike training day,” I suggested as Dad slipped the car off the slip lane into the traffic.
“Frank was sure of it, just keep fit clothes.”
“I know, but it still seems a bit weird going cycling in dancing stuff.”
“Which isn't that much different from your bibs or that skin suit you wore for the ad, didn't exactly hide much eh?”
“Dad!”
“I might be your father but I'm not blind kiddo and whilst I might not like it, you are a young woman now with everything that goes with that.”

I was feeling quite a flush already, has he worked out that I'm just wearing knickers and paint in the ad?

“Pity about that suit though.”

Maybe not then.

“er yeah although it wasn't that comfortable.” that paint itched something chronic after a bit!

 
After the first few minutes of investigating the various controls and hidey holes of the new wheels, the journey, only about an hour to some place just north of Wiesbaden, was just, well a journey. So okay, when we got onto the A3 Dad did let his enthusiasm get the better of him, we sat behind a chap in a fancy nine eleven in the donor lane for a bit, I'm sure I saw one eighty on the dial! We came off the autobahn at Idstein and a few minutes later we were on a little lane in the middle of knowhere.

“You sure this is right?”
“Frank sent me the directions, we want the Sporthalle in Wingsbach.”
“You'd think they'd do it somewhere a bit more, I dunno, easy to find.”
“This looks like Wingsbach,” Dad observed as a village hove into view ahead, “the hall is supposed to be off to the left somewhere.”

We'd barely passed the name board before I spotted a sign for 'Sporthalle / Tennisplatz' and soon enough we quickly arrived at our destination. The clue was the couple of cars with bikes on the roof and Frank Obermeyer talking to a familiar looking girl. Dad swung us into a parking bay and I quickly grabbed my bag and headed for the building.
 
“Izzy!”
“Ah, Bond,” Frank allowed.
“Gab or should I call you your Highness,” Iz greeted meeting me with a hug.
"Let me think.... best be Gaby, so what are you doing here?”
“Same as you I guess, Frank rang and said he wanted me to come up.”
“New car Dave?” Frank's question alerted us to Dad's arrival.
“Thought it was time we had something more practical than the Hymer, nice to see you again Frank.”
“Well we're all here now, shall we go inside and get started.”

Frank led the way into the modern sports hall.

“Exactly what are we doing today?” I queried.
“Opening up your minds, perhaps giving your heads a different focus, come, the girls are waiting.”

Frank led us to a row of chairs where I recognised Izzy's mother chatting with a couple of track suited individuals.

“Gaby, Dave, i'd like you to meet Josef and Bettina Fendt, they'll be putting you girls through your paces today, Jo, Betti, this is our Weltmeisterin Gaby Bond and her father Dave, he's DS of the Apollinaris juniors.”

Dad offered his hand, greetings were exchanged and once we were settled, Jo stood up and started to address us.

“So ladies, today we'll introduce you to some bicycling different to what you are used to. Some history for you, artistic or indoor cycling has been practised almost since the invention of the bicycle. Acrobatics and trick cycling were most often seen at the circus or music hall, it was very much this way until the nineteen fifties. Since then it has developed into more of a sporting than entertainment discipline, in eighty four the first international championships were held and as you may have discovered we will shortly step up to the UCI umbrella much like BMX, track racing and so on. As part of that the Federation have now taken on responsibility, so while we are no longer independent we have gained the resources and experience of the National Federation.”

He paused for a moment before going on, “So, what is Artistic Cycling? Well for competition purposes each rider has a five minute slot in which to perform a series of set exercises and individual pieces which are judged in much the same way as gymnastics or competitive dance, either of you do either of those?”
“Sorry,” Izzy shook her head.
“Fraulein Bond?”
“I um do Garde and Cheering, we did some sort of gymnastics when I was in England last year,” I allowed.
“Cheering?” Izzy queried, “can't imagine you bouncing about with those pom pom things.”

Jo interrupted before that conversation could develop.

“This is good I think, Frank says you both have experience of the fixed gear? On the velodrome?”

we both nodded confirmation.

“So before we go any further, I think we will see a demonstration, Betti if you please.”
 
I hadn't noticed but Bettina had stripped out of her trackies and fetched a bike that had been propped against a wall. I'm guessing Josef is her other half, they don't look like siblings at least, anyhow Jo switched on a CD player and some of that sort of wishy music skaters and gymnasts use filled the hall. Betti did a quick scoot, I missed exactly how, but next moment she was stood with a foot on the bars, the other on the saddle.

Well i've no idea what any of it is called and I can't even describe half of it. The bike was continually moving, forward, backwards, on both wheels, just one, Bettina gracefully moving from one position to the next. It was the same sort of stuff that Dad showed me at home except I'm in the same room and I could clearly see the effort and body control required for some of the moves.

Jo stopped the sounds and Bettina dismounted with a graceful step off. The small audience applauded and Jo returned to centre stage so to speak.

“So, today we aren't aiming for you to do such moves as Betti, these typically take many hours of practice. No for today we will work on some basic movements then after lunch we will get you onto bicycles and try some simple control moves. First I think you might want to change into more appropriate clothes?”
 

“I wonder what 'control moves' actually means,” Iz queried as we utilised the ladies to change into our 'more appropriate' togs.
“Probably that stuff sat on the handlebars,” I suggested.
“Looks well dodgy that.”
“Its all confidence I guess, you ready?”
“I feel a right prawn,” she told me when she emerged from her cubicle.

Well perhaps the all in one leotard was a bit much, not helped by being an eyewatering acid green and purple.

“Interesting colours,” I allowed.
“Mum got it in Ulm the other day, do you wear undies with these things?”
“Its a good idea,” I opined.
“Thought so but I wasn't sure if they were like bike shorts.”

The thought of those seams rubbing lady bits doesn't really bear thinking about! My own outfit was more, er contemporary dance, a pale blue sports bra and navy three-quarter length tights/ and yes I have knickers on!

“You look comfortable in those.”
“Well i've been doing the Tanz and cheer for a few years, you get used to it I guess, come on, time to meet our public.”
 

We started off with a pretty much standard warm up, the sort of stuff we do at the Tanzklub, slow stretches, nothing too energetic, just getting the muscles ready for some action. I sort of zoned out a bit as Josef called the moves, I came back to the here and now to find everyone looking at me.

“What?”
“Er Gab, you never said you were a professional dancer,” Iz whispered across to me.
“I'm not.”
“You might not be professional young woman but you are certainly very accomplished,” Bettina opined.
“How do you reckon that?”
“I did ballet from age three and I never was comfortable doing side splits, I could never get my bum to the floor,” Betti told us, “you however are in the perfect pose without help.”
'Erm,” I looked over at Iz who had got her legs to about ninety degrees whilst mine were at the full one eighty. “practice?”

I could hear Dad's distinctive chortle across the room where he was talking with Izzy's parents and Frank, Herr Beyer having returned from walking the families dogs.

“Well it will make it easier for you to do some of the exercises,” Josef stated.
 
And so the morning proceeded, just like we do for Cheer and Garde, Betti blocked out what we were to do and we stood or sat as required on the mats to follow her. A lot of it was balancing and turns, very controlled like Garde but with more movement, not exactling jumping around of course. By the time Frank called a break for lunch I was feeling it a bit and Izzy was starting to look quite uncomfortable.

Lunch had been delivered mid morning, I guess from a local restaurant as it consisted of a tray of finger foods, a huge thermos with soup and a smaller one with coffee. Oh there were soft drinks too, no one would be getting fat but it would fill a hole until dinner. We only broke for about thirty minutes at which point our task mistress fetched her bike over.
 

“okay girls, we have practised on the floor now we need to transfer that to the fahrrad. First we need to get on the bicycle, so first we step here....”

Of course, what I haven't mentioned is that whilst I'm a metre fifty eight in my stocking feet, Betti is about one seventy and some and Izzy is a good ten centimetres taller than me. There is just no way I can use the same bike, so whilst Iz was getting to grips with Bettina's machine, Josef sorted me out with a smaller machine. Eventually we were both managing to circle the hall on the weird machines, the gearing is really low, the bars very close and the wheelbase is silly short.

“you are going around now, we need to try our moves from the floor but on the bicycles,” Josef told us, “so first, one foot onto the handlebars.”

Well I won't say I was perfect, okay I was a bit over enthusiastic and managed to fall off once, second time around I succeeded, getting leg two up was easier. Well easier maybe but it felt distinctly like I had no control over my steed, yes I was steering but part of riding a bike is using the rotating pedals for control and that wasn't happening. We spent about thirty minutes repeating that exercise before moving on to the next 'form', no hands!

Okay, hands up if you can ride a bike no hands, yep a lot of folk can do that but try it with your legs over the handlebars. Not so easy eh? Iz really wasn't getting there but I, if not quite happily, got to a point where I could do the two laps Betti wanted from us before retaking control. You get the idea, nothing we were doing was too technical, it just needed confidence and control.
 

After another short break we broke off into a one on one, I got Betti, Izzy had Josef.

“You ready to try something a bit fancier?”
“Erm,”
“Nothing too technical I promise.”
“Okay.”

Technical by her standards it might not be but for me it was quite scary, I mean have you ever tried doing the splits on a bike and not holding the handlebars? Thought not, balancing on my tum in a sort of Superman position, was considerably easier as at least I was touching the bars. We each finished up doing the mini routine we'd been working on, I was quite warm, I'm sure Iz was even more so in that full suit thing, anyhow we were both glad it was over.

“Go get yourselves cleaned up,” Frank suggested then we'll have a quick chat before we finish.”
 

“Well I hope you've both enjoyed today, learnt some new skills,” Frank started.
“Its been different,” Iz allowed.
“Well thats partly been the idea Izzy,” Frank noted, “but we're also looking at ways of making your training more interesting and varied, it can get a bit boring sat on a turbo or pounding the roads, especially in the winter.”
“Yeah,” I agreed.
“So, if you girls are up to it we thought we'd set you girls a challenge.”
“Challenge?” Izzy queried.
“Go on,” I suggested.
“Well, if you are up for it, we want you to practice what you've learnt today, the Fendt's will coach you on some extra skills as you go along and then we'll have a little competition in the spring.”
“Gab'll win that hands down,” Iz suggested.
“Not neccesarily,” Josef put in, “we'll be judging on progress from today, so maybe Gaby has better skills but you will have a bigger margin to improve.”
“Come on Iz, we can kill this, frighten the opposition with our skills.”
“What about bikes, I don't even have a track bike.”
“You can borrow the machines you've been using today,” Frank told us.

And so it was settled, we get to play with some weird bikes, then we get to show off our skills at some unspecified point next spring. If it gets me out of a few turbo sessions I'm all for it.

 
“So what do you reckon?” Dad asked as we headed back out to the A3.
“I reckon we need to get a rack fitted to the car,” I suggested looking into the back where the borrowed bike lay over the rear seats.
“In good time.”
“What about going to Austria tomorrow, we're not going in the Hymer are we?”
“All the bikes are going in the truck, stop avoiding the question, what do you think about this 'challenge'?”
“Its certainly a different idea, is it just me and Iz?”
“They're doing another trial session up north somewhere, you might have more competition than just Isolde Beyer.”
“Bum.”
“Have you got everything packed for tomorrow, I want to pack the car tonight.”
“Er, mostly.”
“Gaby, you've known we're going early for at least a week,” Dad sighed, pushing the speedo well over a hundred twenty K as we joined the autobahn.
“Yeah but there was Mand's party and then we've been working on the cafe, and we've been doing this today.”
Pater just shook his head, “one day kiddo, one day.”
 

“So how'd the market go?” I asked Manda as we spooned Chinese food out onto plates, okay its not exactly bike food but its not exactly a regular thing.
“Pretty busy, we lost power for a bit, the whole market, not just us, some idiot reversed a van into the supply box thingy and tripped everything.”
“Wasn't me, so how did the newbies get on?”
“Okay I guess, they were doing the tables mostly, I got landed with the till most of the day.”
“Well we're off on our hols tomorrow!”
“Not exactly a holiday.”
“Well its away from here and no college, counts as holiday for me.”
“If you say so, whats in that container?”
“Pork balls.”
“Give 'em here, so how did your 'arty' riding go?”
I passed the foil tray over, “okay, its flippin' hard work.”
“So you can do those wheelie tricks and stuff now then?”
“Don't be daft, did get to ride no hands or feet,”
“Well exciting and thats useful how?”
“I dunno, maybe I can join the circus.”
“If you say so, we all done?”
“Think so.”
“Come on then, I'm starving.”

 
“Shoulda got a van,” I noted adding my bags to the pile of stuff Dad was surveying in the cellar.
“It'll go in, now are you sure that's the lot?”
“Yes Dad.”
“Shoes, helmet?”
“In the bike bag.”
“You have put your team frock in?”
“Really?”
“Go fetch it," he sighed.
“Gotcha! Its already in there.” I crowed.

 
© Maddy Bell 11.03.2019

There was more than a whiff of excitement in the car, it felt almost like old times, setting off on a family holiday – except I'm sharing the back seat with Manda rather than Jules. We've not all been away together, apart from New Year and Japan, well you know what I mean, since we left England. Not that this is exactly a holiday of course, but we won't be riding every day, and I'm quite looking forward to trying skiing.

“Okay girls?” Mum enquired glancing back.
“Well I am,” Mand allowed, “Gab looks ready to pop.”
Dad chuckled.
“Huh!”
“We'll stop in a bit, I need a coffee even if no one else does,” Dad suggested.
“There will be snow won't there?”

I know not everyone likes snow and it can be a nuisance but it is a pre-requisite for skiing.

“There's plenty up the mountains,” Mum advised.
“I’m sure they'll save some for you Gab,” Mand suggested.

It's been a long drive, I'm glad we've got the new car and not Mum's A Klasse or the camper. At least there's room to stretch out a bit in here, so okay it’s not the top of the range version but it’s still pretty lux. It certainly turns heads, Saab's aren't that common in Germany, I can't believe Dad actually had to get it from the dealer in Maastricht.

After that stupidly early start, I mean, six o'clock Dad, we've got down country pretty well. There was a bit of traffic around Mainz but since then we've been in the outside lane going somewhat faster than Dad usually drives. I guess it’s the new car thing.

“How much further is it?” I asked as we waited for our lunch.
“We should be at the hotel by four,” Dad suggested.
“Don't forget we need a motorway tag,” Mum mentioned.
“What's that?” Mand asked.
“You have to pay to use the Austrian motorways,” Dad told us.
“What a swizz,” I suggested.
“It’s the same in Switzerland and remember all those peage going down to Spain?”
“Ooh, that looks good,” Mum opined as the waitress arrived with our Gulasch soup.

Instead of the motorway services we've stopped at some place called Offenburg, on the edge of the Schwarzwald. From here we cross the forest then drop-down past Bodensee to Austria, apparently its more direct than going via Stuttgart – well that’s what Dad says. We get to use lots of service areas going to races and one thing they aren't is particularly restful, a small town bakery is much better – and the loos are free!

The one disadvantage, sort of, coming this way is the lack of autobahn, after our lunch stop there was a short bit dual carriageway before it reduced to a fairly busy two-lane road. The hills became more wooded as we climbed steadily up the Kinzigtal, bypassing all the villages before the new road ended at Haslach.

Manda was engrossed in her book and to be honest, once you've seen one tree – well you get the idea. I recognised a couple of names on road signs, Freudenstadt – we've raced there and Freiburg which is sort of the de facto capital of the region, I think Jules looked at going to the university there. Things did start to get a bit more interesting when we started to climb a bit more obviously, the Hymer would've been crawling on some of this!

“Mand,” I enthused nudging her arm, “Big enough for you?”
“Eh?”
“You want to stop?” Mum asked.

Dad was already slowing and a minute later I was scrambling out into the coolness to gape at what was being billed as the biggest cuckoo clock in the world.

“Really?” Mand queried.
“You must've heard of this place, its well famous.”
“It’s not that big.”

I guess it depends on your point of view, it’s actually a full-on building, big for a clock but not exceptional for a building, even a timber one.

“Can you take a picture Dad?”
“Let’s have your camera then,” he sighed.

I grabbed Mand and we mugged for the picture taker.

“We got time for a look inside?”
“I guess so, but no buying clocks.”

Triberg, where we are, is the heart of the Black Forest Cuckoo clock industry, the result of idle hands in the winter months. These days of course it’s all about the tourists, why else would you build a house sized clock. Inside the shop, which fills the lower floor of the building, its literally wall to wall kitsch, big clocks, small clocks, all noisily ticking and with one thing in common, they're all Cuckoo clocks.

Nana Bond has got a small one in her kitchen but it’s nothing like these. I'm not sure I'm really a fan but some of the clocks are incredible, not just Cuckoos but little figures that come out, all sorts of pendulums, amazing stuff. Of course, they have prices to match, three, four, five hundred Euros – even if I wanted one, I'm not spending that much!

We crossed the Donau / Rhein watershed and the vista opened up somewhat as we started the descent to Villingen. After all the climbing, the drop seemed to whizz by and after navigating the town we soon picked up faster roads, bypassing Donaueshingen on the quiet autobahn towards the shores of Bodensee. It wasn't long before we caught our first views of the huge lake and beyond, the snow-capped peaks of the Alps.

Once again, the road reverted to two lane as we followed the eastern coast south, of course we studied this area in geography quite extensively. Even today, in early December, the sun was glinting off the water, sailing boats dotting the surface. There was a bit of a bottleneck at Friedrichshafen but once away from the town we made good progress to the motorway down into Austria.

The mountains ahead certainly had a lot of white on their shoulders, I was so engrossed I was taken unawares when we pulled off into what looked like a large car park.

“I shouldn't be long,” Dad advised as he opened his door.
“What've we stopped for?” I asked Mum as Pater crossed the tarmac.
“Dur, weren't you listening,” Mand put in, “The motorway thing.”
“The Vignette,” Mum confirmed.
“So, are we near Austria then?”
“The border's just ahead, we're probably about half an hour from the hotel.”
“Cool!” I enthused.
“The others should be there already,” Mum told us.

Just glad we didn't set off as early as them, mind you they had to pick up Gret and Tali from Stuttgart airport on the way down. Dad returned and handed Mum the vignette thing to stick in the window.

“Okay, next stop the hotel,” he mentioned pulling his seatbelt into place.

It was a bit of a strange entry into Germany's southern neighbour, no sooner were we across the border than the motorway entered a tunnel, nearly six kilometres of subterranean driving. We popped out into the flatness of the Rheintal, each side hemmed by seemingly vertical rock walls, snow draping the upper edges.

“That's Switzerland over there,” Dad pointed to the right.
“Doesn't look any different to Austria from here,” Mand observed.
“The border is political not geological, there were people living here long before the Swiss Confederation or Austria existed,” Mum lectured – well she was a geography teacher.

We turned off the motorway and joined the local road system, within a couple more minutes we were at the Hotel Weisses Kreuz. As predicted the team bus and truck were already parked outside, George's car hidden behind. My excitement levels were high, its ages since I’ve seen most of the girls on the Apollinaris roster, not everyone is here, Maria has decided to retire and the lads aren't here either.

Somehow it feels weird, we aren't here for a race, there's no pressure to perform although no doubt it will get a bit competitive.

“Ah, Bonds!” the Big Boss greeted us.
“George,” Dad returned.
“Good trip down?”
“Pretty quiet, you?”
“You know, Stuttgart is always busy, the Hamburg flight was a bit late but we're here now eh? Let’s get you settled, we'll talk over dinner.”
“Where's everyone else?” I queried as we made our way inside the hotel.
“There was talk of going into the town, they have a Weihnachtsmarkt I think.”
“You'd best give Roni a call,” Mum suggested.
“Yes! Come on Mand,” I excitedly told my friend.
“You might need your room key,” Dad observed.

I hardly recognised Roni when we emerged from the subway into Feldkirch old town, the slightly chubby face teen replaced by a more svelte and confident young woman. Don't get me wrong, she was never what you might call fat – despite her mums’ culinary skills, but the new Roni has lost the puppy fat.

“You're looking well,” I opined exchanging a hug.
“Mum says I look thin, hi Mand.”
“Ron.”
“So, where're the others?” I queried.
“Round at the market, come on, you have got to try the apple fritters.”

It’s not a big place, it was only a couple of minutes later before we were greeting the rest of Team Apollinaris who were holding court at the tables outside a cafe restaurant under the covered walkways flanking the market. I guess a big part of this trip is about fostering team spirit, everyone seemed upbeat and happy to be here. I say everyone, there was a girl sat at the back, sort of smiling, not someone I know, maybe she’s just a local having a coffee amused by our antics.

“You haven't met Maria's replacement yet have you?” Tina mentioned.
“I only found out she was stopping last week.”
“It’s been on the cards all year,” Kat put in.
“Come on, I'll introduce you,” Tina stated.

A moment later we were stood by the mystery girl.

“Katy, meet Gaby Bond, Jen's daughter, Gab, Katy van Oerts.”
“Er nice to meet you,” I offered a hand to shake.
“And you, I haf heard so much, sorry my German is not so good.”
“Dutch?” I suggested.
“Belgian, from De Panne on the coast.”
“This is a bit of a change then.”
“Not so much, I was racing in Italia for two years.”
“I’ll leave you to it,” Tina suggested.
I pulled out a chair and sat, “I did a training camp in Italy once.”
“You like?”
“Well the pasta's good.”
“So, you ski?”
“We went to a dry slope from school once, you?”
“From a small girl.”

Ching, ching, ching! George got everyone’s attention in time honoured fashion with a fork and wine glass.

“Good evening people, welcome to Austria. So, we've got a full programme for you this week, hopefully you'll all enjoy it, learn new skills, gel as a team. Just a few ground rules, you are representing the team so try to behave yourselves.”
“When do we ever not?” Erika called out.
“Antwerp?” George suggested somewhat archly.
“Except Antwerp,” Erika allowed slightly sheepishly.

I wonder what happened in Antwerp? Have to ask Roni.

“You all know the rules on team apparel, Kat has been to fetch the ski gear this afternoon, she'll be in the Stube after dinner.”

I know Dad said something about ski gear but this sounds interesting.

“Now tomorrow, the forecast looks good so we'll do a steady ride, around a hundred kilometres, Dave and Mike will have the bikes ready for a nine o'clock start. The afternoon we'll be to the schwimbad along in Rankweil. Questions?”
“What time is breakfast?” Anja asked.

Look, we're bike riders, eating's important, especially if we're doing a long bike session, a steady hundred could be four hours or more.

Seems that the team have stumped up for some proper ski gear for us, salopettes in team blue with cream jackets, boots and so on we'll be hiring on the day from what Kat was saying. I might not be an expert with winter sports but even I recognised the Mammut® brand name, I’ve seen some of their serious outdoor kit at that Globetrotter place in Koln. Mum's already kitted me and Mand out with thermals and stuff, I can't wait to hit the slopes.

It was pretty crisp as we gathered in front of the hotel, a flock of ten women chattering and preparing their steeds for the ride ahead. Somehow it felt a bit strange seeing everyone in winter riding gear, thermal tights, jackets, full fingered gloves, over shoes – you get the idea.

“Jenny?” George called out, “You know the route?”
“We'll work it out George, see you later.”

 
© Maddy Bell 14.03.2019

And so, we set off, a clatter of cleats, squealing of brakes and a few curses as Mum and Erika led the way out onto the road.

We soon settled into an orderly double line, tapping along at a steady twenty-five, thirty klicks, rotating at something like kilometre breaks. Mum directed us through Feldkirch and onto the road to Vaduz, the traffic was fairly light once we cleared the old town area. I was a bit surprised when we reached the border – yup, we're going into another country!

The guards smiled and returned our waves as we passed through, there wasn't really anything different once we were in Lichtenstein, okay the road signs are a bit different but that’s all. Our route wasn't flat, call it rolling, certainly easy going which allowed us plenty of time to take in the snow-covered wall of rock away across the valley.

“Pretty cool eh?” Ron opined.
“Glad we're down here,” I noted eyeing the distant mountains.
“Yeah,” she agreed, “Knowing George there's bound to be a catch to this though.”
I couldn't help but agree, there's bound to be a sting in the tail.

We dropped through a bit of a town before another steady slope took us along to Vaduz, the Schloss dominating the principalities capital. The road was well maintained, no potholes or dodgy repairs, it felt pretty good to be part of this mini peloton. Swooshing along we moved back out into the countryside, just as it looked like we'd swoop towards the river Mum called a left turn.

We'd hardly settled back down after the turn when we started to climb, not steeply but enough to reduce our speed. There was yelling ahead and I wasn't the only one struggling to react to the sudden rise in pace. Why? Well that became apparent a few metres further on as we passed what I'm guessing was the Swiss border.

No guards, no customs booth this time, just a road sign with the Swiss flag on. Apparently, Tina had won the border sprint, looks like coffee will be on her later. The road continued to climb up across a wide meadow before twisting through some trees, the grade stiff enough to reduce conversation if not stop it.

The road suddenly narrowed and we rode through an archway, apparently into some sort of fort. Then with a final kick we made the summit and started a descent back into the Rhein valley which snaked away in front of us. I have to say I was a bit surprised to find us passing through vineyards above Maienfeld where we clattered through a cobbled square, the buildings all decorated with murals.

The sun might be out but it was still fairly cold, my face was frozen by the time we reached the valley floor. After crossing the river, we rode up into Bad Ragaz but instead of going straight through we turned down a side road. It was only when we pulled up outside the bahnhof I realised why, coffee!

“I could get used to this,” Gret opined between sips of coffee.
“We don't do this all the time,” Ron pointed out.
“So how much further are we going?” I addressed Mum.
She shrugged, “Fifty or so, why, too much for the Weltmeisterin?”
“No, I was just wondering.”
“Don't worry Gab, we can push you back,” Erika told me with a grin.
“Ha de har.”
We were only stopped for about fifteen minutes; the sun was bright in the almost clear sky – not really warming things but it lifted the spirit’s a bit. Through Sargans and somehow, we ended up on a cycle track heading north beside the railway line. It was good tarmac though so apart from a couple of locals it didn't exactly hinder our progress.

It didn't take long to reach Buchs where, instead of taking what looked like the main valley road we turned towards some place called Gams. This road was almost hugging the lower slopes of the valley side, climbing almost imperceptibly as we went. I was at the back, telling Ron about Canada when there was a screech of brakes and some murmuring ahead of us.

“What's up?” I enquired once we'd come to an unruly halt.
“No idea,” Mand allowed, “Your Mum's whispering with Tina.”
“Ot oh,” Ron allowed, “This can't be good.”
I had to agree, Mum pushed off, not along the road but across it and into a side road, a side road that could, by its direction only go up.
“Where're we going now?” Tal mumbled.
“Goodness knows.”

We followed across the carriageway, our fate in the hands of the mad woman who claims to be my mother.

At the end of the village we turned right and the tarmac immediately started to climb, not steeply but maybe six or seven percent. Thing is, it kept wavering about that grade up and through the first hairpin before easing a little only to steepen again a few hundred metres further on. There were a few farms, the odd house but we were now on essentially open meadow, very Swiss.

Whoever was up front had us tapping along just the wrong side of comfortable, conversation dropped off which meant I could look out over the Rheintal falling away to our right after a second hairpin. It already looked like toy town, we must've already climbed a couple of hundred metres since we turned off. Things eased off after a third hairpin, well gradient wise, the pace kicked up to compensate, any thoughts of rotation long gone, it’s every girl for herself!

Another hairpin, this time followed with a ten percent slope up into what seemed to be a more substantial group of buildings, the name board called it Lehn. At least things levelled out but we were now on a single-track road, I hope we don't meet any traffic. In front of us, across a sort of ravine, I could see traffic on a clearly more main road, does this track join up to that?

I hadn't really taken notice but we'd turned a corner and the temperature dropped as the meagre strength of the sun was denied us.

“Ice!”
Sugar, good job we're going up. We all came to a halt to survey the ice bound road.
“What do you reckon Jen?” Anja posed.
“Looks clear beyond, we can walk past.”
“You're the boss,” Tina chuckled unclipping her other foot.
“Load of woollies,” Erika offered before heading out onto the ice on two wheels.
“Show off!” Roni joined the banter.

I found it difficult enough to walk the few metres, how Erika stayed upright I’ve no idea, must be those CX skills I guess. Once everyone was across, we set off again, the lane continuing to gain metres as it bobbled across the meadows. It was soon apparent though that the patch of ice had been a portent of what awaited us further along.

First it was the odd icy puddle, but then there was patchy snow either side, a bit up the middle of the tarmac. The further we climbed the more white stuff there was, up to white stuff covering the tarmac completely. Surely, we must get to another road soon, going back down the icy lane would be worse than continuing on.

We seemed to reach a kind of summit, the lane dropping into forest beyond, is that traffic I can hear? We had to stop for a car coming towards us, the lane had widened a bit at this point but it was still awkward. The road was still covered in snow and ice down through the trees which made for a nervous couple of minutes before we reached a junction with, I'm guessing the road I saw earlier.

“I’m glad that's over,” Mand sighed.
“No kidding,” I agreed.

We turned right, downhill, this tarmac damp but clear of white stuff. It’s clearly quite some sort of main road, wide and well surfaced even if it dodged about a bit as we descended through a ravine, a roaring river echoing about us. It was damn cold though, going downhill at some speed not exactly helping.

“Careful!” someone up front shouted.

The road tilted more forcefully downward, a sign warning of a fourteen percent gradient flashed by, it felt vertical, not helped by the Armco either side of the carriageway. The road looked a bit more than just wet in couple of places, not that we could do much about it, my comp was showing over fifty despite the brakes being on. We burst from the trees and back into sunshine, ahead of us and still some way below the Rheintal was bathed in the stuff, what I'm guessing is Lichtenstein beyond.

The road was now dry which is just as well as it bucked about a bit as it levelled somewhat. When we next got a view of the valley it was clear we still had a lot of height to lose but on dry tarmac and good line of sight everyone let their bikes run. We were closing rapidly on a couple of trucks, heavy braking around a wide hairpin lost a bit of momentum but we streamed past before the next turn.

I'm sure the speed board thing was flashing high seventies when we passed it going onto Gams. At least the road was straight-ish which meant we could scrub our speed without worrying about what was round a turn. As quick as we were in, we were out of Gams and on the valley floor, an exhilarating descent but I'm sure I wasn't the only one glad to be down in one piece.

 
© Maddy Bell 16.03.2019

 
We made our way outside.
“Wow!” Mand allowed.
Tal let out a low whistle, “What she said.”

Down on the nursery slopes you really don't see the bigger picture; the mountains tops aren't even in sight and anyway you're concentrating on not falling over. But up here it’s a different story, the air is crisper, the view more expansive and what a view, snow covering pretty much everything under a clear blue sky and what look like tiny ants dotted all over the slopes. It’s no wonder people come skiing, it’s not the plank riding it’s the views and just being in these surroundings.

My reverie was broken by Mand, “Picture!”
“I haven't got my camera,” I mentioned.
“Dur, Handy.”

Why didn't I think of that? So okay, the pictures aren't brilliant but they aren't bad considering, certainly good enough for a few fun snaps, we even got another skier to take a pic of the three of us together. Have to send that to the guys back home.

“We eating then?” Tal queried.
“It is what we came up for,” I opined.
“Well come on then,” Mand chivvied.
 
“There you are,” Mum called out when we found our way into the restaurant.

Team Apollinaris were sat around a couple of window tables, the remains of plates of food and cups of coffee filling the table tops.

“You could've waited for us,” I suggested.
“We weren't sure you'd get here,” George noted.
“What time is your afternoon?” Mum enquired.
“Er two,” Manda supplied.
“Come on, let’s get you fed then, you don't want to be late,” Mater instructed, “Anyone want more coffee?”
 
Any ideas of a rustic restaurant with staff in Kostum and a raging fire were dispelled when we walked in, the reality of course is that they need to feed a lot of people as quickly as possible. As a result, the décor is more akin to a Dinea without the frills and the food distributed via an area that wouldn't look out of place in a school canteen. The menu was heavy with burgers, pasta and Würst, Tal lumped for Spag Bol, Mand a cheeseburger, I went for the Gülaschsüppe.

We returned to the tables and found seats amongst the chattering hordes.

“So how are the lessons?” Katy asked.
“Gab fell over about six times,” Tal grinned.
“You fell over too,” I riposted.
“Only once.”
“Everyone one falls over at first,” Roni mentioned from down the table.
“We were doing ploughs before we stopped,” Mand replied to Katy's query.
“You'll soon be terrorising the proper slopes,” Tina suggested.
“So, what about you guys?” I asked between a sip of my hot chocolate and the next spoon of soup. I had been tempted by the Glühwein on offer but they wanted five euro for a small paper cup.
“Just a couple of runs,” Anita told us.
“To the bottom?” Tal queried.
“No, from the top,” Erika advised, “There's a big car goes up.”
“Valluga,” Tina put in.
“Gesundheit!” I offered.
“That’s the name of the Bahn dopey,” Mum chuckled.
“So what're you guys doing this afternoon?” Mand asked.
“A couple more runs, I think Boss man has ideas of a race,” Erika advised.
“It was only a suggestion,” George chuckled, “Just a bit of fun.”
“If you say so,” Mum noted.
 
“So we'll find you at the Krazy Kangaruh,“ George told us.
“'Kay,” I replied, “We'll see you there.”
“Enjoy your race,” Mand added as we headed into the Galzig Bergbahn for the return to the town below.
“Tschuss!”
 
It’s about a fifteen-minute journey down to St Anton in the cable car, I was, if I'm honest, a bit jealous of the skiers below us on the slopes. Well okay, they've probably been skiing for years, I’ve only been doing it a couple of hours but I guess I’ve caught the bug.

“That looks like the Kangaruh place,” Tal suggested pointing down at a group of buildings nestling into the lower slopes. It might have a weird name but it looked like there was a more traditional bar cum restaurant place with loads of ski racks outside, although it looked like there were few customers at the moment.
“How do we get there, its miles from the town,” Manda pointed out.
“Well hardly miles, guess we have to walk up, there must be a path or road,” not that I could see anything other than white below.
 
We got back to the ski school with a couple of minutes to spare after a fast shuffle from the Bahn – well you can't exactly run in ski boots, can you? Matheus soon had us doing basic plough turns then moved us onto the more technical parallel turns which of course had everyone falling over multiple times. It’s not rocket science of course and by the end of the lesson at four o'clock we could all get from the top of the slope to the bottom in one piece.

“Well done girls, you've enjoyed yourselves?” our instructor queried as we retrieved our bags from the lock bin.
“Don't think we'll be winning any prizes any time soon,” Tal replied.
He shrugged, “Maybe not, the racers, they start at two, three years. I think with practice you all will be quite competent.”
“We can go on the proper slopes now?” Mand enquired.
“Of course, keep to the green runs to start, you'll know when you are ready to move up, you can take extra schools maybe but mostly its practice.”
“Cool!” Mand enthused.
“Er Matti,” I started, “Do you know the Krazy Kangaruh?”
“Of course, the bar on the west slope.”
“We're meeting our friends there; do you know how we get there?”
“Hmm, I think to walk today might be difficult.”
“Bum,” Tal sighed, “Guess we have to miss then, it’s not like we can ski uphill is it?”
“I'll ring Mum.”
“Hmm, I'm finished for today,” Matheus mused, “Tell you what, I just need to drop this stuff off at the shop and I'll take you up, there's a drag lift up to fifty-two then we can go down the run to Kangaruh.”
“That'd be ace!” Mand almost fell over her own feet in her rush to hug him.
“Gret'll be green,” Tal suggested.
“She won't be the only one,” well he might be as old as my parents but he's quite a dish.
 
“So,” Matti addressed us, “Grab hold of the bar, keep your skis straight, when you get to the top let go and go to the left ja?”
“Got it,” I confirmed.
“What if it goes wrong?” Mand asked.
“Just let go and roll to the side, I'll be behind you don't worry.”
“Let’s do it then,” Tal suggested, pushing herself towards the lift.

It was a bit weird at first, bit like being on the back of a tandem, you're hanging on for grim death without any control whatsoever. On the other hand, apart from balancing your poles there's no real effort needed, other skiers have made grooves that your skis follow and you're not going particularly fast, maybe a little over walking pace. At the top I let go and let momentum carry me clear to where Tal was already adjusting her goggles ready to start our descent.
 
“Ready?” Matti queried.

Well to be honest, I know I was looking enviously at the free-range skiers on the slopes but now I'm here, well I’ve got the willies. From here it looks like a vertical white precipice, I know it’s not but my stomach was doing somersaults.

“You alright Gab?” Tal asked.
“Er yeah, after you.”
“So, remember what we did earlier, keep the skis straight, bend the knees to turn, we'll stop by that Schneefan where it drops away?”
“Okay,” Mand enthusiastically replied before pushing away.

Clearly Matti had picked up on my nervousness and descended next to me offering words of encouragement. Of course, we were passed by other skiers who made it look so easy.

“So, you race the Fahrrad yes?” Matti mentioned.
“Uh huh,” I agreed not taking my eyes off the front of my skis.
“I think skiing is similar, it is more difficult the more you think about it, how do you go on a big downhill on your bicycle?”
“Well I guess I look for the line and relax, brake into the corners and let it flow out.”
“So, we do the same with skis.”

Well, with Matheus offering guidance and a steadying hand once or twice I got down to where the others waited.

“This is brill,” de Vreen enthused.
“Er yeah,” I sort of agreed a bit less enthusiastically.
“The next bit starts steeper but it flattens out, keep to the left side when we get to the other run, there will be faster experienced skiers coming down.”
“Like our lot,” Tal suggested.
“Are you okay Gaby?”

I nodded.

“In your own time then,” Matti encouraged.

 
Our arrival at Krazy Kangaruh was hardly what you see on James Bond, certainly not the snow spraying turn and stop, think more of slowing to an ungainly plough halt. Only just in time too, we'd barely racked our skis before the first of the team arrived with somewhat more panache.

“Yes!” Katy stated, thrusting her poles skywards.
“Remind me not to race you on snow again,” Mum breathlessly stated.
“Competition for you then Bond,” George added as he released his own planks.

The back markers arrived, clearly Ron, Gret and Tina had been talking rather than racing on their way down the mountain.

“You girls got here okay then,” Mum mentioned.
“Thanks to Matti,” Tal told her.
“Who's Matti?” Erika enquired.
“Our instructor,” Mand filled in.
“So where is he then?” Gret pursued, “I bet he's a right hunk.”
“They usually are,” Anja opined.
“Think he's gone inside,” I suggested, “Like we should.”
Mand continued undeterred, “We used some cable thing then came down the run.”
“You will soon be racing me,” Katy grinned.
“Er maybe,” I managed.

 
I think our version of après ski was somewhat muted compared to the tales you hear, it was certainly not the drunken party often shown in the media. Well I guess, we do have to get back to the bus down in the town and drive back to Feldkirch for dinner – oh and the boss is here. We did have Glühwein and snacks, I avoided the impromptu karaoke session somehow, well a trip to the facilities in ski gear is a bit more involved than just knickers down.

“Urgh,” Gret allowed with a shiver, “It’s pretty cold.”
“And dark,” Ron observed.
“We are like halfway up a mountain,” Mand pointed out.

Our visit to Krazy Kangaruh wasn't actually that long, maybe an hour, but if I'm anything to go by, I think everyone was feeling the efforts of the day. Luckily for us, the run back into St Anton was lit, not well but enough for us to ski down with some local knowledge from Matti getting us almost directly to the ski shop. We quickly returned the borrowed gear then made our way to where the Saab and minibus awaited us, already covered in frost.

We returned the way we'd come, through the Arlberg motorway tunnel and then down past Bludenz back to our base. One good thing is that our new wheels have a really good heater, we were pretty snug by the time we got back to the Weisses Kreuz where it was thankfully frost free.

 
“Good day?” Dad enquired as we trooped in, he'd clearly been sat waiting for us armed with a cup of coffee and a newspaper.
“Not bad,” Mum allowed, “We got time to shower before dinner? I think there're a few stiff bodies.”
“I'll talk to the kitchen.”
“Come on girls, chop, chop.”
“And don't forget, dresses,” Dad added.
“Do we have to?” I groaned.
“Yes you do kiddo,” Mum told me.
“We look like airline staff,” I mumbled.
“Your point being?”
“Oooo!”
 
“That’s better,” I stated, squeezing the wet from my locks into a towel.
“Took your time,” my roomie complained.
“Had to do my legs.”
“Thought you waxed?”
“I er sort of forgot.”
“How could you forget?”
“I've been busy, thought you wanted to shower?”

Oh the joys of womanhood, whilst I quite like being hairless getting denuded is always a chore whether you shave, depilate, wax or whatever. Sometimes a quick touch up with a razor is the easiest thing for the odd errant hair, I guess I'll have to book in to be thoroughly plucked before Weihnachts. I finished drying myself and with a sigh got myself into my Apollinaris frock, all it needs is one of those silly hats and I could work for Lufthansa.

By the time we got to the dining room most of the other patrons were about finished with their meals which made me feel even more of a plonk dressed up in a dress and heels. Of course the support staff can wear what they want, I caught Kat smirking at me, I'm sure because my hair and dress clash.

Dinner was a bit better than last night, Fleischsuppe followed by Schweinkotlets with Semmelknödel and green beans. Dessert was three tiny scoops of sorbet, there again, what can you expect, oh what I wouldn't give for some Spotted Dick and custard!
 

“Your attention please ladies,” George requested.

It took a moment for conversations to subside, well a dozen women, what do you expect?

“Well I hope you all enjoyed yourselves today, I certainly did. So tomorrow, I think we will tackle the Arlberg in the morning then the afternoon is yours. Nine o'clock depart please, the junge plus I think Roni will set off first, the seniors will give ten minutes, Dave will follow his people with Petra, myself and Kat will use my car, Mike will meet us at the top. Questions?”
“How far is this summit?” Erika asked.
“About fifty kilometres, the Pass proper starts after Bludenz until there its almost flat up the valley.”
“Up the valley,” Gret grumbled.
“I'm sure no one here will be interested,” Dad offered, “But we may have time to stop at the Milka factory shop on the way back. Not that I'm encouraging chocolate eating by such elite sportswomen.”
“Milka? As in purple cows? There's a shop?”
“Thought Bond would be interested,” Kat chuckled.
“Just curious.”
“Like when we go through Bad Segeberg,” Mand suggested.
“What's at Bat Zegborg,” Katy enquired.
“Haribo,” Tina supplied.
“And you don't go in?” I pointed out to Manda.
“Well someone has to keep an eye on what you buy, I swear you'd fill a van if you could.”
George cleared his throat to interrupt, “If there is nothing more about tomorrow, I'm done.”
 
“Fifty kilometres climbing,” Gret moaned again.

Of course, where she lives out in Brandenburg its almost pancake flat, you could go that far and not climb that many metres. Tomorrow it’s something like a thousand metres of up, not super huge but still a lot of up. On the plus side, what goes up...

“The first bit's not really climbing, we went up it today,” I pointed out.
“There's that up word again,” she complained.

We've gathered in the room she's sharing with Tali, no trips to the Weihnachtsmarkt or Maccy D's tonight, just coffee courtesy of Roni.

“Mum was telling Katy that it’s not as bad as the Silverberg earlier.”
“And that's supposed to help?”
“Oh give over Gret,” Tal complained, “You think Niedersachsen has mountains either?”
“Not bad coffee Ron,” I put in to change the subject.
“It’s only Tchibo.”
“At least you can get it easily,” Tal observed.
“Yeah,” Roni agreed.
“Isn't it a lot of hassle, carting the machine around I mean,” Mand suggested.
“Not really, it’s not like I’ve got to carry it anywhere, it’s in the bus.”
“Dunno that I could be bothered,” Gret opined.
“Some of the hotels can only manage dishwater,” Ron told us, “A lot of girls on the circuit take their own.”
“Mum takes her English Tea,” I mentioned.
“Wonder what this Milka place is like?” Mand mused.
“I thought you weren't interested.”
“I can be curious, can't I?”
“Oh come on de Vreen,” Tal started, “I've seen you with a bar of chocolate, now you see it, now you don't.”
“Don't know what you mean.”
“So you got any Lotus Ron?”
“Might have,” she delved into the bag her coffee machine travelled in and produced a packet of the caramel biscuits so enjoyed by millions. “Don't eat them all.”
“As if.”
“Hmmph!”
“What're we doing tomorrow afternoon?” de Vreen queried.
I shrugged, “Dunno, go into town?”
“It’s hardly a throbbing metropolis is it?” Gret pointed out.
“You got any ideas then?” Roni asked.
“We could probably go swimming again?”
“That same place?”
“There's a flyer for a waterpark downstairs.”
“Hmm, might be worth a pop,” Roni allowed.
“Sounds good,” Tal agreed.

Don't get me wrong, I don't mind going to the pool from time to time but twice in a week? Maybe some of the others are doing something more interesting.
 
© Maddy Bell 14.03.2019

 
The last couple of days have been amazing, bright sunshine, blue skies – so its been a bit chilly at times but it is December and we are in the Alps afterall. The lack of light making its way into the room was a bit of a warning, even before we got up, that today wasn'y going to be a repeat. When we got to breakfast it was clear that everyone had a case of 'weather downer', beyond the windows it was decidedly grey and if not actually raining, damp.

“We still doing the Pass?” I asked Dad.
“I think so, the forecast is better later this morming, it'll probably be bright sunshine on the Pass.”

I remained unconvinced but I guess getting wet is par for the course, its not like we melt is it?

“You know which way to go Roni?” Dad queried as we prepared to set off.
“I think so, up into the town and left at that big junction then we just follow the road up the valley.”
“Okay, ride tempo, I'm sure the seniors will be trying to catch up but its not a race okay? Gaby?”
I sighed, “yes Dad.”
“Right then, we'll try to keep behind you but don't worry if we get split through the towns, just keep going and we'll catch up to you. Off you go, see you at the top.”

We peeled out of the car park and caught the lights at green, everyone keen to get warmed up, we got straight down to it. It wasn't actually raining at the moment, we had to dodge some seriously big puddles along the bus lane, it hardly seemed we were going before we got to the corner where we turn towards Innsbruck and points east. We just missed the green so had to sit through a full rotation before we could get going again.

The Saab was right behind us through the junction, under the Schloss and Ron led us onto the bike lane out of the traffic. That was all well and good as we climbed through the gorge but less good as it took us away from the main road.

“We've lost your Dad,” Tal mentioned as we joined a quiet lane.
“We'll find him further up,” I confidently opined.
“We just follow the Bludenz signs then take the Pass road there,” Ron told us, “you're dad'll pick us up there if not before.”

It sounded like a reasonable plan so we pressed on.

 
I'm not sure where we went wrong, or if indeed we did but instead of getting back to the main road we ended up on a lane that I'm guessing was the original valley road, being quite wide but a bit bendy. It was going the right way and there was pretty much no traffic as we tapped along through the Austrian countryside. Not that we could see much, low cloud was cloaking pretty much everything above tree height and we were now being persisted on.

Eventually we came to the main road but there was no sign of Dad or indeed of the other group so we followed the signs for Bludenz which somehow put us onto a trail alongside the river. It was a pretty good surface so we whipped along quite happily then suddenly we arrived at Bludenz. I say at, the trail took us through some industrial stuff then popped us out in front of the railway station.

It was still damping and after an hours riding, Dad's prediction of sunshine was looking about as likely as finding a pasty in the bakery. There was a sign pointing to Innsbruck, not where we're going but the right direction at least, so we pressed on through the town. We nearly missed the turn as we blindly followed the Innsbruck signs, Tal saving us from heading onto the Autobahn.

So far its been a very steady climb, apart from that first bit out of Feldkirch, but it was clear that that was about to change.

“Guess this is the start of the Pass proper,” I suggested as we followed the railway line in a now much narrower valley.
“Thanks for that cheering thought,” Gret complained.
“Its the same for everyone,” Mand pointed out.
“Huh!”

Same it might be and all too soon the road angled steeply up under the railway line halting any sort of conversation. It wasn't a long climb, the road levelled out, not to flat but certainly not far off which allowed a resumption of conversation.

“Wonder where your dad's got to,” Ron queried.
“Probably waiting up the road, he must've been loads quicker getting to Bludenz, he'll be sat in a lay by up here somewhere.”
“Yeah, the others'll be in front too,” Tal suggested.
“That snow up there?” Mand asked nodding towards the semi visible valley sides.
I looked over,” looks like it, nothing down here though.”
“I'm sure its getting colder,” Gret grumped.
“That's what happens when you get higher,” Roni pointed out.

Clearly most motor traffic uses the motorway, there was very little traffic as we continued the steady climb through Braz, only the local bus actually passing us. The wet had eased off, the clouds clearing a little which revealled that snow line much closer than I thought. A couple of cars went the other direction, decorated with white stuff, thats not good.

“You see that?” Ron enquired.
“Bet they've come from up the mountains somewhere,” I suggested more in hope than confidence.

The road abruptly turned and we crossed the now single lane each way autobahn before dipping a little.

“A tunnel?” Gret mentioned.
“Looks like it,” Tal answered.
“Its only three hundred metres,” I pointed out having spotted the sign.

There was a bit of a kink in the tunnel so we couldn't see the top but it was lit so we enjoyed the respite from the damp as we climbed through the rock. Maybe if we could've seen what awaited us we'd have been more circumspect.
 
“I don't think this is rain,” Tal mused.

It wasn't exactly rain thats for sure and the patchy white on the verges and beyond suggested a more wintry deposit.

“This can give up,” Gret complained.
“Yeah,” I agreed.

The road was still clear but wet as it gained more metres, the stuff falling was now most definitely snow and sticking to our clothing.

“How far to the top?” Mand asked.
“We've done over thirty,” Ron stated, “got to be less than twenty.”
“Twenty K of this?” Gret exclaimed.
 
We climbed up through some trees and when we emerged from the cover the road was now dusted with the white stuff.

“This is so not good,” Tal muttered.

It was snowing quite persistently and we were at the name board before the village appeared through the white.

“This is stupid, I'm going back,” Gret told us.
“We'll probably run out of it in a bit,” I suggested without much conviction.
“And if you don't?”
“I'll come with you,” Mand offered.
“Tal?”
“Gab's probably right, it'll be stopped up the road.”
“Come on then Mand,” Gret suggested, “we'll see you guys later.”

The pair of them made u turns and then we were three.
 
The village, Dalaas, seemed quite busy and disturbingly everything was blanketed in several centimetres of the white stuff. We continued up through the homes and businesses but it was clear that far from running out of it, it was getting worse.

“Maybe we should turn around too,” Ron opined.
“We could wait it out for a bit, there's a bushalterstelle over there.”

We angled over and were soon in the shelteer of the wooden shack.

“Wonder where Dad is?” I mused.
“Not sat in a bus shelter freezing to death,” Tal noted.

Ron didn't say anything as she sat watching the snow descend around us.
 

“Where do you think they are?” Petra asked, peering through the wet on the windscreen.
“No idea,” Dave admitted, “its like they've just evaporated.”
“If they followed that back road it would've brought them out at that Nenzing place.”
“But where did they go from there, we've been up and down twice now.”
“They're all sensible girls Dave, Ron knows where to head for,” Pet observed, “perhaps we just missed them and they're ahead of us?”
“Maybe,” Dave allowed, “i'm guessing we missed the others somewhere along the way too.”

He restarted the car and pulled back onto the road, the only explanation was that they'd somehow missed each other in which case they should be well up the Pass by now. Hmm, if we go up to the top and come back down we can't possibly miss them if they're on the right road. There's a junction onto the autobahn a bit further up, that'll be the quickest way up.

Once on the motorway, Dave did a fair immitation of his wifes driving, but unlike when they were in the little A Klasse, you at least felt a bit more in control in the Saab. They were soon passing Bludenz, if there's no sign on the Arlberg he'd try the Silvretta road but worry about that later.

“Isn't that George?” Petra suggested when an oncoming car flashed them.
“You're right.”

A quick bit of arm waving as they passed and a plan was made, Dave pulled into the next rest area and waited for George and Kat to turn around.

“Whats going on Dave?” George asked after slipping into the back of the Saab to escape the wet.
“Wish I knew, I take it you haven't seen my lot?”
“We thought they were still ahead of us as we hadn't caught them, but I guess not if you're here.”
“We sort of got seperated just outside Feldkirch, we think they used the bike route towards Bludenz, we were just on our way up to catch them on the Pass. Hang on, why are you here?”
“We got up to the first tunnel and there was snow on the topside, white over, blowing a blizzard.”
“You don't think the youngsters rode up further?” Petra asked with some concern in her voice.
“There weren't any bike tracks so if they did it was perhaps not snowing then,” George offered.
“So where're Jen and the others?”
“Going back down to Bludenz, we're meeting at that chocolate place, Mike's following them down.”
“How far up is this snow?”
“Ten maybe.”
Dave made a snap decision, “i'll go up as far as I can get and try the back road, can you ring the Polizei George, they aren't exactly kitted out for a blizzard.”
“Done.”
“Thanks George, might be best not to tell Jen just yet.”

 
Manda and Gret pulled to a grateful stop inside the tunnel. Whilst the road had been okayish before they turned back the snow had pretty much covered it by the time they started back down. If they had but known, the senior group were only a few minutes ahead of them, taking their time to drop back down the road they'd just climbed.

“My hands are flippin' freezing,” Mand announced, sticking them into her pits to try to get some feeling back.
“You think the others'll be okay?” Gret queried.
“Probably holed up in a bakery drinking chocolate if I know Gabs.”
“We should push on, its got to be warmer lower down.”
“Yeah,” Mand agreed, “come on then.”

 
“This isn't getting any better Gabs,” Ron noted.
“Worse if anything,” Tal added, “and I'm getting pretty cold too.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, “back down then.”

We brushed the snow off the bikes and cautiously set off. It hadn't seemed that far or that steep up through Dalaas but going down the snow covered road on pretty much racing bikes was a nervous job. The snowplough heading up hill didn't exactly instill confidence in the state of the road but by keeping our speed in careful check we got down the steepest bit through the trees before stopping to regroup just below the motorway junction.

“Who's idea was this?” Tal griped.
“Got a better one?”
“Come on,” Ron suggested, “it can't be that far to the tunnel, we can shelter there for a bit.”

It was still snowing quite enthusiastically but maybe without quite as much vigour as up in Dalaas. We pushed off and carefully picked our way down the road, the white reducing a little as the coating reduced, the odd lump of ice causing heart in mouth moments for both me and Ron. Then there it was, the entrance to the tunnel.

“Yay!” I announced, “made it.”
“Watch that lump Gab,” Tal called out.
“What lump, oh sugar!”

So of course I caught the lump, one second I was upright, the next I was sprawled on the road.

“You alright Gab,” Ron asked as she dumped her own bike to come to my assistance.
“Think so,” I scrambled upright.
“How's the bike,” Tal enquired.

I dragged my steed to the vertical, it certainly looked okay apart from the chain being off, on the other hand, my wrist was feeling decidedly sore.

“Looks okay.”
“Lets get into the tunnel, sort it out under cover,” Ron proposed.

I did a sort of semi limp cum hobble down the road, not aided by nylon cleats slipping on the snowy surface. My wrist was hurting something chronic, just my flippin' luck.

Ron clearly saw me wince, “what is it Gab?”
“Think I might've done my wrist,” I admitted.
“Bum, what do we do now?” Tal posed.
“Get her to the hospital,” Ron stated, “can you hold the bars Gab?”
“What're you thinking Ron?”
“There's a village just below the tunnel, I bet its less than a kilometre, if we can get you there we can phone for an ambulance.”
“Guess I can try.”

 
When the Saab emerged from the tunnel the road was white over, passable but for how much further? Dave tamed the speed and let the car pull itself up the incline. He wasn't sure what to think when he spotted a snowplough on the old road, if they're ploughing the road's still open right.
The autobahn passed into another tunnel, a longer one this time.

“We'll find them Dave,” Petra stated.
“Lets hope so.”

As George hadn't seen them they had to be above that tunnel didn't they? The snow was laying ten centimetres deep when they returned to daylight and progress slowed once more. But they were still moving and the flashing lights of another snowplough suggested the highways authority were trying to keep the route open.

They finally made it to the next junction and Dave eased them off the autobahn, if the girls got further than this, well he couldn't see how they could given the amount of snow, on a mountain bike perhaps but not on road bikes. The car had a bit of a squiggle on the slip road, nah, there's no way they could ride on this stuff.

It was more of a crawl than driving down the old road back towards Bludenz, they followed the local bus which was still running but had chains on which at least compressed the surface enough for the Saab to progress. They crossed another snowplough, or maybe it was the one they'd seen earlier.

“Looks like a village ahead,” Petra mentioned, “they could get under cover to wait it out.”
“Not if I know my daughter, still best keep an eye out for their bikes.”

They passed the bus when it stopped in the middle of the village.

“Stop, stop!” Petra yelled.
“What?” Dave asked as the car slid to a halt.
“On the side there, looks like bike tracks.”

It did indeed look like the narrow tracks of skinny tyres crossing the path onto the road but whether it was his girls or just some local who can tell?
 
The road out of the village was passable having been scraped but was it rideable? When the road tilted down through the trees Dave doubted it was, the car was sliding a bit so what hope on a bike? Beyond the motorway junction though there were several clear tyre tracks on the unploughed road, as it was still snowing that could only mean the makers weren't that far ahead.

They dropped through the tunnel into, could you believe it, bright sunshine.

“Over there,” Petra exclaimed, pointing toward a bus shelter.

Dave did a one point turn and pulled up, his seatbelt was off, the door open before the motor died.

“Thank god, you all okay? where've you been, where're the others?” it came out as one continuous sentence.
“Gab came off,” Roni supplied, “I think her wrist's broken, its all swollen.”
“Where are the others?” Petra repeated Daves question.
“They turned back before us,” Tal told her, “haven't you seen them?”
“We went up the autobahn, maybe George has found them.”
“Weren't they ahead of us?” Tal queried.
“They turned at the tunnel,” Dad supplied, “lets have a look at this wrist kiddo, you called an ambulance Roni?”
“We haven't seen a phone, we were going to push Gab along until we found one.”

“Ouch!”
“Sorry kiddo, can you move your fingers for me.”

I waggled my digits about, it was when I tried to grip or bend my wrist that it hurt.

“I don't think its actually broken.”
“It hurts like hell,” I told him with another wince.
“Not saying it doesn't kiddo, lets get you to a hospital and checked out. Ron, you and Tali go down to Bludenz, George is waiting somewhere by the bahnhof with the seniors, let him know whats happened, get the Polizei called off if Amanda and Gret have found George. I'll take Gaby directly to A&E.”
“Okay Mr B.”

Tal and Ron quickly set off leaving me with Dad and Petra.

“Get yourself inside kiddo, I'll get your bike in the back and we can get off.”

Pet helped me get my wet jacket off and strapped in before wrapping me in her ski jacket and climbing in beside me, by which time Dad, with the practice of many years, had my bike in the back. We drove back to the motorway and we headed for a destination no one ever really wants to have. The heater was on full belt and I started to defrost a bit despite my wet bibs and shoes – its not like I can take my tights off is it, I'm er, you know, au naturel underneath, even in winter you don't wear undies when there's a pad fitted.

I wasn't really taking notice of where we were going, I'm sure there's a hospital in Bludenz but I recognised that we were going through Feldkirch, I guess its a bigger place.
 
© Maddy Bell 15.03.2019

“I'll take you in,” Petra suggested.
“Cheers Pet,” Dad offered, “i'll be in as soon as i've got parked.”

I have to admit that it was a bit weird arriving in the accident department under my own steam, walking wounded so to speak. Not that I make a habit of it but most of my hospital arrivals are in the back of an ambulance after some sort of race mishap. I suppose today is still bike orientated and potentially as embarrasing given what I'm wearing.

It didn't take long to get checked in and the triage nurse called me through just as Dad joined us in the waiting room.

“So Gaby,” he started, “slip your jacket off, what've we been up to eh?”

Dad helped me lose Pet's coat as I started to explain.

“We were riding up to Arlberg when it started snowing, so we turned back and I fell off on a lump of ice.”
“Snow?” my Angel queried.
“Yeah, a regular blizzard,” I confirmed.
“You're wrist yes?” lets take a look.”

Dad is okay for basic first aid but Paulo, thats the nurses name, was much more thorough and I have to say gentle.

“I don't think its broken, just a bit of a sprain but lets get you x-rayed to make sure eh?”
 
I suppose most people have had x-rays at some time or other, I sort of know how it works but I'm still fascinated to see the pictures of stuff inside of me. I returned to Paulo to get the diagnosis, we had to wait a few minutes whilst he finished with another victim before being called back to the treatment area.

“You'll be glad to know there's no break as far as we can see.”
“Thats good eh kiddo,” Dad opined.
“Yeah,” I allowed with a wince.
“There are lots of small bones in your wrist, sometimes the x-ray doesn't pick up tiny cracks.”
“Is that the scaphoid?” I asked, one of the lads at school had a pot on for weeks after breaking his.
“That's the usual culprit, so if the swelling doesn't go down in a few days get yourself checked out again.”
“Okay,” I agreed.
“We'll sort you out a brace, should make it a bit more comfortable, give it a bit of support for a few days.”
“Guess I won't be riding anymore this week,” I sighed.
“I'd give it a couple of days, give it a chance to recover a bit eh,” Paulo suggested.
 
“Well?” Petra enquired after i'd been fitted out with the wrist brace, it certainly felt a lot more comfortable.
“Bad sprain,” Dad supplied, “lets get you back to the hotel, think you might've missed doing anything this afternoon.”
“Talking of which Dave, Manda and Gret turned up in Bludenz, finally got a signal on the Handy while you were being sorted.”
Dad looked a bit guilty, “i'd forgotten about the others.”
“Thats understandable, anyway, George abandoned the rest of the ride, they were coming down in the bus.”
 
I hadn't really been taking any notice of the time and was a bit surprised that it was only just coming up to two when we got back to the Weisses Kreuz.
“So's it broke then?” Mand asked when I clattered into reception.
“Bad sprain,” I waved my injured arm.
“No pot then,” she sighed.
“Or water park.”
“Er about that, we didn't know how long you'd be so we're off in a few minutes, the bus is only once an hour.”
I shrugged, “i'm sure I'll live, look I'm gonna get a shower, you guys have fun, don't worry about me.”
“We got you some chocolate.”

Bum, i've missed the Milka place.

“er cheers,” I offered before waving my poorly arm, “shower.”

 
I was nearly dressed again – in proper clothes that is, when my Handy started trilling.

“Hello?”
“Where are you kiddo,” Mum asked.
“In the room just getting dressed.”
“Meet me in reception in five minutes, we're going out.”
“We are? Where?”
“You'll find out if you come down, now chop, chop!”
“'kay,” I sighed.

To be honest i'd have been quite happy to just veg in front of the idiot box, they always have some film channel in hotels. But Mum sounded quite, I dunno, on a mission so I suppose i'd best shake a leg. Have you ever tried dressing with one hand? I was gonna put some hose on for a bit of warmth but I gave up and had to go with short socks, its a good job my boots zip up!

“There you are, how's the wrist?”
“Sore, the brace helps but I guess riding and skiing is out.”
“Hmm, we'll see, you got your bag, coat?”
I waved them for her to see, “where're we going?”
“Bregenz, come on.”
“Where's Dad?”
“Having a lie down, you had him worried to death this morning.”
“Didn't mean to.”
“He knows kiddo, jump in,” she instructed as she beeped the Saab open.

“So where are we going, you said Bregenz but what for?”
“There's a sports clinic, they're gonna try and get you something a bit better than that brace the hospital gave you.”

We were already on the autobahn, at Mum speed we'd be there in about ten minutes!

“What for, Paulo said it just needs some rest.”
“Do you not want to do anything the rest of the week?”
“Well yeah,” I allowed.
“So tell me about this morning.”
 
By the time we found the Sportkilinic Rheintal/Voralberg she had the full story, seems like they weren't actually that far behind us at the tunnel when it came to it. I guess timing is everything, if they'd been a bit faster or we'd turned back sooner or – well you can't live on if's and but's as Gran says. Mum got us parked and I followed her into the clinic, a very posh place, more like some fancy business than any sort of medical facility.

“Ah, Frau Bond and our Weltmeisterin,” the chap who fetched us from reception greeted.
“Gaby,” I filled.
“Indeed, my daughter never is quiet about your exploits,” he went on.
“She rides Doctor...”
“Sorry, Kaufmann, just call me Frank though, no, not the bicycles, she skis, no she has followed you on Eurosport.”

He ushered us into an office and bade us sit.

“So young lady, what have you been up to,do you mind?”

I offered him my arm before giving him the abridged version of events as he removed the brace. He carefully examined my injured appendage much as Paulo had earlier.

“Does this hurt? Or this?” he enquired as he pressed various bits of my wrist, I did wince once or twice but it wasn't too bad really.
“Hmm, not too bad young lady.”
“What do you think Herr Doctor,” Mum posed.
“It is just a sprain, we'll get you set up with a better brace and you'll be riding as soon as, these things,” he waved at my original brace, “they are fine for Oma but for more active persons we can do much better.”
 

“Its a bit over the top,” I suggested nearly an hour later as I flexed my new, very expensive, custom brace as we returned to the Saab.
“We can take it back,” Mum suggested.
“No, its great, I can actually grip stuff,”
“That'll be the injection working.”

Doc Kaufmann had suggested the Cortisone injection to let me use the hand without as much pain.

“So how'd you know about this place?”
“A couple of years ago, you remember Maria broke her hand at the Bodensee Classic? These guys sorted her out, she was riding again in a few days. Hmm, I think we still have time.”
“Time, what for?”
“You'll see,” she grinned.
 
Ten minutes later we turned into one of those sort of retail parks, not like in England but a couple of stores, in this case a Lidl and one of those discount shoe places along with a budget burger cum kebab place.

“What're we stopping here for?” I asked as Mum pulled into a bay.
“What do you think we're here for?”
“I dunno, a kebab? oh.”

Oh indeed, if i'd actually been paying attention i'd have seen it much sooner, there, right in front of us a fairly non descript building, nothing special except for the decorations that identified it as the 'Wolford Factory Outlet'.

“So?” Mum queried.
“You're kidding?”

“Nope, another find from the Bodensee, shall we?”
“Not many!”
 
In case you haven't noticed, I'm something of a Wolford fan, it might be expensive but if you are spending out on expensive shoes and frocks, shouldn't you match them with your hosiery? Okay, i've only got a few pairs of fancy hose and they aren't all Wolford but they are my go to brand. We walked around the building which was when I spotted that we were at the actual factory (the clue was in 'factory shop'), a plain building currently sporting a bigger Weihnachtsbaum than Dernau puts up, the only thing better than this would be a trip to Vicenza!

I'm not sure what I was expecting inside but I think reality exceeded it by a factor of at least ten. Its not a huge building but it is of course exclusively offering Wolford products, no incursions from other brands like you get in Karstadt. In turn that means that everything you see in Stern or wherever is in here, those posh bodies and clingy dresses that you never see in the shops, even 'that' place in Ahrweiler.

Okay, so the prices weren't greatly reduced on everything but even a few euros is better than nowt, right? A lot of the more run of the mill stuff was like half price but a forty euro pair of hose is still twice as much as other brands. The real bargains were the bins of 'seconds' and 'end of line' stuff, even so the contents of my purse weren't going to buy very much, but what should I get?

“Okay kiddo?” Mum asked finding me debating the merits of a discontinued body and a pair of stockings with Swarovski crystals up the rear seam.

“Found anything you like?”
“I was thinking of getting these but thats me blown for the rest of the trip, what about you?”
“Just some tights,” she advised waving the packets.
“Think I'll just get the stockings, Jules got me that garter belt last year and i've never used it.”
“What if I got you the body, early Chrimbo present, you could get something else then.”
“Really? That'd be well cool!”
“Just don't tell your father, you were only supposed to be getting the shoes.”
“Mum's the word,” I enthused.
“And as its a one off you can use your card, but just this once okay and don't go mad.”

OMG, I'm never allowed to use my bank card, i've got quite a few euros in my account, my kiosk earnings and prize money mostly, I still get an allowance from the Rents which covers my day to day stuff. My eyes lit up, I could get anything, well pretty much.

“Don't go mad,” Mum repeated, “give me those so I can pay and don't be all day, I think they close at seven.”
“'kay,” I handed her the stuff in my hands then made a bee line for a shopping basket!
 
Beep, beep, beep, the checkout girl scanned my packets, another girl put them into a large Wolford carrier bag. Beep, beep, beep, beep. Eventually, after what seemed like hours, longer than an Aldi food shop, the basket was empty. I had a rough idea of what the bill would be, I haven't gone too barmy but its still a lot.

“Drei hundert, funf und achtzig bitte.”
“Ist alles?” I'm sure it came to over four hundred.

She showed me the receipt thing, oh well, I'm not complaining.

“Karte,” I offered passing her my card.

She put the card into the reader thing, pressed her buttons and passed the whole thing back to me for my pin. Two, five, ut, uh, ok. A moment later it beeped and receipts started printing as I took a silent breath of relief, what if it hadn't worked? I retrieved my card and stowed it in my purse before taking my prize.

“Wiedersehn.”
“Danke,” I offered in return then headed into the gathering gloom outside.
 
“Sorted?” Mum asked as I opened the back door to stow my coat and purchases.
“Er yeah.”
“Forget something?”
“Erm, thanks?”
“Try these,” she handed me the Swarovski stockings.”
“Oops, I'll give you the money.”
“You can buy me coffee before we go back, do I want to know how much you spent?”
“Too much,” I suggested.
“It is your money,” she allowed, “just don't make it a habit, how's the wrist?”

I hadn't actually noticed it while I was shopping so I'm guessing the fancy brace was doing its job.

“Okay I think, doesn't hurt as much anyway.”
“We'll have to see how it is in the morning as to whether you can ski.”
“Yeah,” I sighed.
“Lets go get that coffee and maybe some cake, i've only had a sandwich since breakfast.”

My stomach gave a loud rumble, i've not even had that much.
 
“You were a long time,” Dad mentioned when we got back to the hotel.

We'd stopped for coffee on the autobahn, Mum had lemon torte and I went for strudel.

“A bit of retail therapy and a coffee,” Mum told him, giving me a wink.
“The Doc reckons I might be okay to ski tomorrow,” I told Pater.
“Possibly,” Mum reiterated.

 
“Good time?” I enquired when I joined the others to go into dinner.
“Brill, you should've come,” Tali enthused.
“Dur,” I waved my arm.
“Oh yeah, soz Gab,” she returned a bit less enthusiastically, “so like how is it?”
I shrugged, “i'll live.”
“So what'd you do this afternoon?” Ron asked.
“Got this,” I waved my arm again, “Mum took me to a sports clinic up in Bregenz.”
“So is it broke?” Gret asked.

Clearly the state of my wrist hadn't rated very highly on the afternoon's list of conversation options.

“Just a bad sprain, the Doc says I should be able to ride and ski if I'm careful.”
“That's cool, lets hope we can go tomorrow,” Tal allowed.
“George'll have a plan B,” Ron told us, “George always has a plan B.”
 
Of course, I had to repeat everything for Tina and co, but as professionals where injury is a constant potential they were a bit more blasé about it. I guess anything less than a full on fracture doesn't rate as news, a bit of road rash, a few bruises are just normal daily occurences. I know Mum's been off a few times this year, I suppose by the laws of averages thats par for the course.

Dinner was a 'healthy' turkey schnitzel with pineapple, croquettes and red cabbage, pretty sure Petra has been suggesting stuff to the chef. Anyhow, we got to coffee before George stood and got our attention.

“So tomorrow, bit of a change of plan.”
“We not skiing?” Erika queried.
“Skiing yes but after today its a change of location, we wouldn't have reached St Anton today eh Gaby?” George told us.
“I guess not,” I agreed.
“So where are we going?” Tina asked.
“Davos, the Swiss keep the road open and it only takes a little longer to get to. I think if we set off at halb neun?”

There was no dissention at the earlier start.

“How about you Gaby, you will come?”
“The Doctor said I could probably ski if I'm careful, I can always hang out around the shops.”
“Okay, so eight thirty in reception, enjoy the evening.”

 
The adults gathered in the Stube, i don't think there was a lot of drinking going on but whilst we weren't barred or anything, Me and Mand ended up in Tal and Gret's room playing cards. It would've been better with some of Ron's coffee but she was being 'adult' tonight, I suppose its not cool to hang out with us youngsters all the time.

“Anyone got any big coins?” Gret asked after a bit.”
“What sort of big?” Mand enquired.
“Twos, fives.”
I sorted through my pile of Kleingeldt, “got a couple of twos.”

Mand and Tali donated some coin too.

“Be back in a mo,” Gret advised skipping out of the door.
“What was that all about?”
“Don't think we'll see the money again,” de Vreen suggested.
“Well she won't get far on sixteen euros,” Tal chuckled as she shuffled the cards.

The door opened and Gret returned.
“Ta da!”
“Now we're talking,” Mand allowed with a grin.
“Well get some glasses someone,” Gret suggested as she put her armful of booty down on the table.
“Where'd you get this?” I asked picking up one of the cans, Fohrenburger, nothing i've heard of, guess its the local brewery.
“Machine at the far end of the corridor.”

So I prefer wine to beer but beggars can't be choosers, it certainly made the cards more interesting especially when we got to strip pontoon!
 
© Maddy Bell 16.03.2019

Thursday arrived as overcast as yesterday although it didn't appear to be raining, just a dose of that dampness that seems to pervade everything this time of year. Doctor Kaufmann had suggested I use the simpler brace i'd got from A&E over night, i'd appreciate the extra help his 'super' brace offered when I needed it that way. I was trying to get it done up when Mand emerged from the shower.

“Heya.”
“Morning,” I offered, as, tongue out of the corner of my laughing gear I concentrated on the task at hand.
“You need a hand with that?”
“Please, its a bit fiddly with one hand,” especially when its my left, I'm not eactly ambidextorous!

Mand tucked her towel a bit tighter around her bosom and took a look at the brace.

“So what am I doing?”
“The strap goes through the loop then pulls back on itself.”
“Like this?”
“Yeah, then if you can just tighten the others up a bit?”
“You've got some right bruises.”
“Where?”

I'm guessing they've come out overnight.

“On your hip, bit of road rash too.”

I moved so I could see my leg in the long wall mirror, it wasn't too bad, the bruise was that sort of bileous yellow-green but the scrapes, on investigation, were a bit weepy. How had I not noticed yesterday, I guess all attention was on my wrist and as there was no blood or obvious damage to my kit, well I guess no one gave it a thought.

“Damn,” I allowed.
“You should get Petra to take a look,” Mand suggested.
“I guess,” I allowed with a sigh.
 
I found our soigneur returning from her breakfast.

“Morning Gab, how you feeling?”
“Battered, some bruises have come out now.”
“To be expected, how's the wrist?”
“Sore but not too bad I guess.”
“At least its not broken, give it a couple of weeks and you'll have forgottren about it.”
“There is something, I seem to have some road rash and its all wet and weepy, I didn't even realise i'd got it till this morning.”
“It happens, bit of a delay because you've damaged underneath without obviously tearing the skin, come on, lets take a look, get some antiseptic on it eh.”
“'kay,” I agreed.
 

By the time Petra had cleaned me up and put a light dressing on the scrapes I was running quite close to missing breakfast. In fact by the time I reached the dining room, the rest of Apollinaris were noticeable by their absence. I got myself a coffee and a pot of yoghurt, looks like I need to get my bum in gear if I'm gonna make eight thirty.

“There you are,” Dad stated a moment after I sat down, “everyones ready to go.”
“Sugar, guess I'm stopping here then,” I replied with a sigh.
“You found her then?” Mum queried from the doorway, “she ready?”
“So why aren't you ready?” Dad asked.
“I had to get Petra to sort my leg out, I won't be long.”

Not eating at least but I still need to get my ski gear on.

“What's wrong with your leg?”
“Delayed road rash, it was all weepy and stuff when I got up.”

By now Mum had joined us.

“No one's staying here alone all day,” Mum stated, “we can follow on in a bit Dave, we're in our car anyway.”
“I'm nearly done,” I suggested.
“Good point Luv, i'll tell George,” Dad told us before slipping away.
 
Mum looked over to where I was sat, “is that all you've had?”
“It'll do,” I allowed giving my spoon a final lick.
“No it won't, you need more than that, “she stated, “your ski gear upstairs?”
“On the bed.”
“Right, you get the rest of your Frühstück, I'll go fetch your stuff, you can change in the car, you've got ten minutes.”
“'kay,” I agreed.

Mum left on her mission and I headed to the buffet.
 

It might not sound like very long but ten minutes got me a second cup of coffee, a boiled egg and enough time to make and eat a salmon and scrambled egg Brötchen and a second with cheese and meat which, along with Pain au Chocolat, I wrapped in a napkin and took with me. I arrived in reception as Dad came back in from the car.

“Ready?”
“Yep.”
“Come on then.”
 

It was almost quarter to nine when we pulled away from the Weisses Kreuz which at least meant we'd missed most of the commuter traffic. I was a bit surprised that we didn't head into the town, we got to Switzerland that way on Monday, instead we set off through a housing estate opposite the hotel. Well I guess Dad knows where he's going, we broke out into fields every bit as flat as Holland, through a village to eventually arrive at a small town.

We seemed to have been heading the wrong way entirely but we got to a roundabout which suggested that Switzerland was ahead of us. Moments later we passed through a border post before crossing a bridge across a wide waterway, the Rhein I'm guessing. On the far side was a second Zollamt and shortly beyond a slip road onto a Swiss motorway heading towards Chur. Some sixty kilometres away.

There wasn't a lot of traffic and we were soon cruising along at a fair ol' lick.
 
“You getting yourself changed kiddo?” Mum suggested.
“Er yeah, anyone got any wipes handy?”
“Hang on,” Mand told me digging into her bag.
“Cheers.” well I don't want to get grease and chocolate over everything do I?

Changing wasn't too bad, i've had years of practice car changing and at least I already had my thermal stuff on so it was only jeans off, salopettes on and wriggle into my polo neck jumper.

“Isn't that where we stopped Monday?” Mand suggested as I finished straightening myself out.
“Where?”
“Bad Rags.”
“Ragaz,” Mum corrected from the front.
“How'd we get here this quick?” I asked.
“Hundred kph?” Mum suggested, “next junction Dave.”
Dad nodded, “got it.”
 
By now, although we hadn't travelled that far we'd run out of the grey weather into much brighter conditions, there was even patchy blue sky above us. Any thoughts of it being motorway all the way were quickly dashed when we turned off at Landquart, within a couple of minutes we were on a good but single carriageway road signed for St Moritz, Flüela Pass and our destination, Davos.

“Isn't Davos where all the Royals go?” Mand suddenly opined.
“Didn't think you were into all that stuff,” I noted.
“I'm not but I'm sure its where Prince William goes skiing.”
“His parents certainly used to,” Mum confirmed, “there or Klosters.”
“So you hoping to bump into him or Harry then,” I joked.
“We-ll, it would be pretty cool, i've never met proper royalty.”
“What about the Thun und Taxis?”
“Not the same, its not like gonna be King or Queen of Germany is it?”
“Well given the Germans don't have a king these days it could be difficult.”
“Exactly, so you ever met any Royals?”

Oh boy, Munich is coming back to haunt me. If I admit to meeting, no dancing with Wills it'll open a right can of unwanted worms, it'll only be a little white lie, its not like we'll actually meet him today is it?

“Er not as far as I know, well not met as such.”
“What's that supposed to mean, 'as such'?”
“Well there were all sorts of nobs at that big wedding I went to in Munich, some of them might've been foreign Royals, I think Soph mentioned the Swedish were there.”
“Think? They either were or weren't.”
“Okay, they were, but its not like we were introduced or anything.”
 

Whilst we'd been discussing the likelihood or not of meeting any sort of Royalty today we'd been steadily climbing through a tree rich valley. When it did eventually open out a bit the fields were well coated with the white stuff and beyond, on the actual mountainsides, it was pretty much a white out against a blue sky.

“Isn't that the bus ahead?” Mum suggested as we started the last, steeper climb out of Klosters.
“Looks like it,” Dad agreed, “thought we might catch them sooner to be honest.”
“They did have quarter of an hour start on us,” I pointed out.

I think Dad's flipped since we got the new car, he's been driving like Schummie and it was clear he was now intent on catching up to the others. At least the bends weren't too sharp but maybe that was a mixed blessing as our driver just powered through them. At least the snow wasn't on the tarmac but it was piled over a metre deep either side which restricted the view a bit.

We reached what seemed to be the top, and suddenly we were right up behind the bus, well okay we were helped by the temporary lights, it looked like snow had avalanched off a roof blocking half the width of the road, no doubt they'll have it cleared before we come back. I'm sure, if there'd been an opportunity, Dad would've passed the bus but it was only a couple of K into the sprawl of Davos and we followed the others through the town before turning towards the Davos Platz railway station. A couple of minutes later we were parking up in the already fairly full carpark that serves the Jakobshornbahn and a couple of smaller lifts serving the southern slopes.

It only took a few minutes to gather our stuff and join the others at the bus where George was waiting to distribute wisdom to his flock.

"Attention please everyone, I spoke to the tourist people yesterday afternoon and they suggested we might do a ski tour rather than just blast down the slopes, that will allow everyone to stay as a group. If anyone has issues,” he looked over to me, “or feels its too much there will be opportunities to cut short. Everyone okay with that?”
“Sounds interesting,” Tina allowed.
“So what's the plan then Boss?” Katy enquired.
“Okay, so after we've got our gear we'll go up the Fuxägufer chairlift then across to the Clavadeler Bubble and up to the top. We'll get lunch there and decide the afternoon's options. Questions?”

There being none, we all trooped towards the cluster of ski hire places and lift talstations, I must admit with no little trepidation on my part. George got himself sorted out first and went off to sort out our lift passes while the rest of us got kitted up. It went a lot smoother this time as everyone knew their boot size and the shop staff quickly sorted us out with poles and planks.

“Not sure I like this,” Mand suggested when we started queing in the Füxagufer station.
“Me either,” I allowed, “i thought we'd be in a cabin.
“Katy?” Mum called to the newest squad member, “can you ride with Gaby, I'll take Manda, what about you Tali?”
“I'll look after her,” Gret volunteered.

“Okay Gaby, sticks in one hand,” Katy directed as we shuffled into position.

A moment later the chair bumped my botty and I hitched myself onto the seat, the safety bar swung into place and we were off.

“Whoa!” I exclaimed as we lurched into the great outdoors.
“It is easy from now, put your sticks in the basket.”
“Er sure.”
 
It can be a bit eerie in the cable cars, but its sort of reassuring having the cabin around you. But on the chairlift you are exposed and held in place and whilst I felt secure enough, sat with skis dangling a good few metres above terra firma was a little disconcerting.

“So your arm, it is okay?” Katy asked as we glided up the mountainside.
I subconsciously flexed my hand before answering, “well it still hurts but not as bad.”
“That's good I think, the splint is good yes?”
“Very,” I agreed, “much better than the hospital one.”
“But expensive I think.”
“Yeah,” I confirmed, “so you know at the top, how do we get off?”
“We just stand up, there is usually a slope away, don't worry I'll be with you.”
“'kay.”

Slope? What if I don't get clear? What if I fall over?
 
As we approached the end station Katy got me prepared and in the end it was easy enough, they had staff helping those that needed it. Ahead of us, they had to hold the chair for Mand who had got herself in a tangle which meant we were going quite slowly at the jump off and I managed it, if not expertly at least in one piece. We poled over to where the rest of Team Apollinaris were stood chatting and checking their kit, no sign of William or Harry though.

“Everyone here?” George asked.
“Kat and Mike are just coming,” Erika advised.
“Okay then, we're going across to the Clavadeler Alp, which is,” he squinted across the whiteness,” I think where those trees are,” he pointed.
“Looks easy enough,” Tal opined.
“It might be easy but be careful please,” George requested, “it is easy to be over confident eh Gaby?”
“Hmm? Oh yeah, right.”
“Go straight up the lift when you get there, we'll regroup at the top, okay? Well lets go then.”

It might well be a group event but of course the more experienced skiers were soon out distancing the much more cautious newbies. The route was well defined, I think they'd used one of those Pistenbully things to make the wide track across the Alb, which meant there was plenty of room for others to pass us as we slid across the snow. Dad isn't a great skier either so we weren't alone at the back, in matter of fact, we had Kat and George looking out for us too.
 
Compared to St Anton this felt a lot less scary, there was a fairly gentle incline towards our destination and stretches that were even uphill.

“Push with the poles,” Kat advised as I slipped onto the next up bit.
“I feel like I want to pedal.”
Kat laughed, “this is much easier.”

Easier it might be but my wrist was starting to ache a bit, I was more than grateful when we started the last long slope down to the bottom staion of our next lift.

“Okay kiddo?” Dad queried when we slid to a halt.
“Just a bit sore.”
“Well don't push it, you can go back down by lift.”
“I'm okay, honest.”
“You don't have to be a hero Gab, better to be cautious than do more damage.”
“I'm fine, really.”
 
This time I knew what the score was when it was time to load onto the Bubble, another chairlift. I shared with Mike this time and was able to enjoy it more this time, it helped that we were only about a metre above the snow this time. It was a longer ride though, Mike thought the top was somewhere over two thousand five hundred metres which is pretty cool.

Further distance wise it might be but it seemed to pass much quicker as instead of worrying about getting off I was busy watching fellow skiers, yeah fellow, sounds good eh, well anyway, watching others as they effortlessly swooshed past us in the opposite direction.

“Poles Gaby,” Mike suggested.

I brought my attention back to the now and prepared to demount at our destination on the ridge between the actual Jakobshorn and the even higher Jatzhorn. A few metres away was the bottom station of the cablecar to the very top but our destination was alongside, a pretty traditional bar restaurant place with quite a few people sat outside enjoying the sunshine. Once i'd got clear of the lift I released my skis and awkwardly walked over to where the others were gathered.

“Lunch here?” George suggested.
“Inside or out?” Mum queried.
“Your choice,” George prompted.

We parked our skis, well Katy did mine, I couldn't work out how to clip them together, and descended like locusts on the verandah. Okay, its not exactly warm, the thermometer on the side of the cablecar station claimed minus two centigrade but it felt relatively warm in the bright sunshine. Unlike the place at St Anton it was table service here, we were quickly supplied with menus and drink orders taken.

I thought about the service in other places and this has to rate as some of the quickest i've come across, I guess this is the pointy end of food delivery. What was on the menu wasn't anything fancy, thats for the restaurants in the town below or maybe at the summit, no it was just good solid standards. I was a bit torn, the Macaroni al Forno sounded good but given the high chance of pasta at dinner this evening I instead plumped for Bockwurst with Pommes.

Maybe I should've read the menu a bit better, when my food arrived my sausage was beautifully presented, cut to make a wheel, the chips were seperate in a bowl, reason being the plate was filled with potato salad, sauerkraut and salad stuff. Oh well, a bit more than I was expecting, but I deserve it!.

 
“How's the hand? Mum asked.
“Okay I guess,” I allowed spearing a few last Pommes and dipping them in the mayo.
“Just okay?”
“Well it aches a bit but so does my side.”
“Just take it steady kiddo.”
“Yes Mum.”
“Everyone okay?” George enquired from the other table we had commandeered.

A chorus of 'fine's', 'great' and one of 'could sit here all afternoon' were returned.

“This afternoon then, the plan is to go up to the summit here and make our way down to the town. There is a green run to the mittel bahnhof and an easy route down to Davos so you can take your choice as long as you tell myself or Dave which. So I think it is time for us to make a move.”
“Don't we need to pay,” Gret queried.
“Already sorted,” Dad advised from behind me, so thats where he disappeared to.

Well no one was going to argue about eating on the Apollinaris dollar were they? It seemed sensible to use the facilities here and as everyone had the same idea it was ten minutes later before we were actually ready to depart. We joined the queue for the cablecar, do you know, I could get used to this.
 
© Maddy Bell 18.03.2019

“So what are you going to do kiddo?” Dad queried as we prepared to leave the bahn cabin at the summit station.

Good question, I’d like to practice my new plank directing skills all the way to the bottom but to be brutally honest, the wrist is throbbing somewhat, even after over an hour’s break from really doing anything.

“Think I’ll ski down to the mid station and see what I feel like there?”
“That’s fine, I think your Mum and a few of the others are keen to ski all the way down so we’ll leave them to do that, the rest of us can take it a bit steadier.”
“’kay.”
 
“Lets get a picture people,” George requested.

We’d been admiring the view from the top, well its not often that you get the chance to look out over the marching alpine peaks from the Ahrtal. Everyone sorted themselves out, of course, being vertically challenged I was front and centre, Katy to one side, Tina the other. We grinned like idiots as George did his thing and even got into a couple of shots thanks to another mountain tourist.

“Please be careful everyone, no heroics eh?” George instructed a few minutes later as we snapped into ski bindings, adjusted, hats, gloves and eyewear or applied lip balm.
“We’ll be careful Bossman,” Mum stated, “see you at the bottom.”

With that she did one of those helicopter turns and pushed off down the slope.

“Hey!” Erika complained.
“Cheat!” Anja added even as they set off in pursuit.
George did a very Gallic shrug, “your wife, every time Dave, see you at the bottom.”

That left just Dad, Kat, Tal and myself to make our way down the mountainside, we pushed off and started our descent.

“Okay?” Dad enquired after we’d been going for a few minutes.

Kat and Tal were getting a bit ahead of us already, maybe I should’ve gone down in the cablecar.

“I’ll get there, just not quickly, you go on ahead if you want.”
“I’m not leaving you up here alone.”
“Hardly alone,” I pointed out, it might be midweek and quite early in the season but the mountain was pretty busy with plank riders, mostly pairs but a few snowboarders were cutting down the slope too – that really is for the terminally daft!
“You know exactly what I mean.”
“Yes Dad,” I sighed, “theres no need for the others to hang back though, they’ve stopped twice already to wait for me.”
“Hmm.”
“You could catch them up, tell them to go on and wait for me to come down.”
Pater weighed this up, “okay, just take it steady eh?”
“Yes Daddy,” geez, parents, you’d think I was like five.
 

Oh I know what I said to Dad about not being alone on the mountain but it suddenly hit me, I am, for the first time, on my own, on skis on an actual mountain. It’s kind of liberating. Okay, so the others are only a short way ahead but even so, I don’t feel compelled to try and match anyone.

That doesn’t mean I didn’t want to, just that I’m being a bit cautious, I don’t want to fall on my bad arm after all. Of course my progress is hampered a bit with my lack of technique, all around me plank riders were swishing about effortlessly, here I am, like a tractor on the autobahn, making progress but not exactly quickly. I decided to try a bit of the slaloming stuff, Mathius did show us the other day but we didn’t really get a chance to have a go.

Okay then, skis together, bend the knees. I whooshed left then swapped to the right, much more elegant than the stiff legged, plough controlled descent I had been making and somehow my wrist didn’t feel quite as ‘tight’ and achy. I spotted the others down to my right, not actually that far in crow distance but the marked run took a more meandering route to get there. Hmm, I could catch them up if I go straight down, it must be okay, there are plenty of peeps doing it.

It went well for the first couple of turns but of course it’s quite steep and my lack of skill made itself apparent on turn three. I made the turn but the tip of my inside plank ended up hooked on the other ski, so of course I panicked a bit which made it worse and the next moment I was pin wheeling down the slope. Oof! I slammed onto the snow and slid to a stop, winded but on first take, not injured.

There was a swish of skis as someone arrived above me.

“Are you okay?”
“Huh?”
“Sorry, do you speak English?”

My brain suddenly made the connection, the voice which seemed vaguely familiar, was speaking English, something I don’t do that often these days.

“Um yeah.”

I sat myself up and started to brush snow off myself.

“I saw you go down, quite impressive I have to say.”
“I like to make a show of things.”
“Are you alright?”
“Er I think so, if I can get these flippin’ things off my feet.”
“Let me, Will by the way.”
“Gaby,” I allowed, “we’ve met before.”
“Have we?” he queried as he released his own skis in advance of untangling me.
“Unless I’m mistaken, big wedding in Munich last year, you trod on my feet.”
“I think I trod on the feet of lots of frauleins,” he admitted, “Kate’s always complaining about my dancing skills.”

He freed my skis which allowed me to cautiously get to my feet and lift my goggles up.

“Pleh!” I got out as more snow cascaded from my head.

My rescuer chortled as I tried to sort myself out.

“Its not nice to laugh at the afflicted.”
“Sorry but the faces you were pulling,” I think his grey matter made connections then, “hang on, I do remember you, you’re related to the Taxis lot right?”
“Er not exactly.”
“You were with them though?”
“My boyfriends family.”

There was another swoosh of skis behind me, “everything okay Sir?”
“Fine Charlie, just rescuing a damsel in distress.”
“Is the young lady okay, is assistance required Sir?”
“I don’t think so, Gaby?”
“Er, I don’t think so Your Highness.”
He started chortling again, “Priceless, only a German, no one calls me that at home even, think we’re fine Charlie.”
“Very well Sir.”
 
“So Gaby not Taxis,” the second in line to the English throne started*, “what brings you to Davos?”
“Von Strechau, it’d be von Strechau,” I suggested, “I’m on a training camp.”
“I’m guessing its not a ski team?”
“Cycling, I’ve only learnt to ski this week.”
“It does sort of show, you’re not on your own are you?”
“No, the others are further down, I’m supposed to meet up at the Mittelbahnhof. What about you, Kate with you?”
“Not this time, don’t think she’s really a fan of this place but I like it, Mum and Dad used to bring us.”

I wasn’t quite sure what to say to that, I know all that stuff happened a while back but even so.

“Well I guess I ought to get going or they’ll wonder where I’m at.”
“Fancy some company? We were heading off anyway, maybe I can give you some tips?”
“You don’t have to.”
“You’re right, I don’t have to but I’d be failing in my duty not to at least offer, but in any case I could do with some company.”
“Well if you can live with being seen with me I guess I can stand the offer., danke William”
“You Germans are always so formal, just Will between us eh? So lets get you back on the skis.
 
The Prince is of course an accomplished skier, well you’d expect at least competence after what, twenty years of skiing. He guided me down to the piste proper, clearly I’m not up to going off piste, and we started to descend, I’m guessing Charlie and whoever else were close behind but giving us some space. Turns out my attempts at slalom were really lacking in technique, it’s a wonder I hadn’t come a cropper before I did.

We chatted about nothing much, skiing of course and the quality of food in the mountain restaurants, nothing exactly personal. He’s quite good company but I already knew that from Munich, its like being with that relation you see at births, deaths and marriages, you start off a bit wary but you are soon swapping stories like best buddies. But all good things must come to an end and the Jakobshornbahn mittel station hove into view.

I spotted Dad and indicated we head over to him.

“I was getting worried kiddo.”
“I got into a bit of a tangle, Will came to my rescue.”
“You’re okay?”
“Yes Dad, sorry, this is Will Wales, Will my Dad, Dave Bond.”
“Nice to meet you Herr Bond.”
“Thanks for rescuing my daughter Will, she seems to need a lot of rescuing lately,” Pater suggested in English.
“Dad!”
“Well you do munchkin, look what happened yesterday.”
“Will doesn’t want to hear about my woes,” I suggested.
“We thought she’d broken her wrist yesterday,” Dad motored on.
“The brace, I should’ve realised it was something like that, well anyway, I should get on, I’m sure Charlie and the lads want to get back to the chalet for a drink or two, nice to see you again Fraulein von Strechau.”
“And you oh and tell Kate I said hi.”
“I will, enjoy the rest of your camp.”

 
“Was that who I think it was?” Dad enquired in low tones as we waited for a cabin to take us down to Davos.
“Who do you think it was?”
“His gran is on English postage stamps?”
“Might be,” I smirked.
“And how pray, does my daughter know the future King?”
“I said, I fell over doing a turn and he came to check that I was okay.”
“That’s today, he said it was good to see you again.”

Damn, not much gets past Dad does it?

I sighed, “you remember that wedding I went to last year?”
“Which one, you went to a few.”
“The first one, in Munich, well Will and Kate were there.”
“And you just happened to get talking?”
“Not exactly, we danced at the reception.”
“You danced with Prince William!”
“Shush!” I suggested, “he danced with lots of people, it was a wedding.”
“And you didn’t think to mention it before now?”
“What was there to mention?”
“Any other teenage girl would’ve been crowing from the rooftops.”
“It was only a dance, its not like he asked me to have his babies.”
“I should flippin hope not!” Dad shot back.
“The cabin’s here.”

“You aren’t gonna say anything are you Dad?” I asked as we walked towards the ski shop to turn in our borrowed kit.
“Should i?”
“Please?”
“What about your mother?”
“Especially Mum, you know what she’s like, I danced with him at a wedding and he escorted me down the mountain today, that’s all there is.”
“So what do we tell everyone?”
“If it even comes up,” I pointed out, “I’ll just say I fell over and some guy stopped to see I was okay then escorted me to the cable car, it’s the truth after all.”
 

I’m not quite sure how but despite my interlude on the piste we’d still got there before the rest of them, well excepting Kat and Tal. Not that we had to wait that long but the light was starting to go in the valley bottom by the time they turned up, a hen party fuelled with adrenalin.

“You look kernackered,” I opined when Mand came in with Gret.
“That was flippin’ hard work.”
“But fun,” Gret added, “you guys been here long?”
I shrugged, “fifteen?”
“Not too bad then, how’s the wrist?”
“Bit sore,” I admitted, “so who won?”
“Katy even with your mum cheating.”
“Cheating?”
“Cutting corners,” Mand advised.
 

A few minutes later we were back in the car to start our journey back to the Weisses Kreuz.

“Your Dad says you had a tumble on the way down,” Mum suggested.

Da-ad!

“Er yeah, got my skis crossed, it didn’t end well.”
“Good job that chap stopped to help eh?”
“I wasn’t hurt.”
“He didn’t have to stop.”
“No,” I agreed.
“So was he a hunk?” Manda pursued the subject.

For someone who isn’t interested in boys she’s always going on about ‘hot’ guys.

“Okay I guess, nothing special.”
“Hey Jenny, did you see that guy up near the top in the white jacket? I swear, he was the spitting image of Prince William,” Tina called over.
“Can’t say as I noticed,” Mum replied.
“He wouldn’t be here now would he?” I opined.
“Guess not but this bloke certainly looked like him,” Fraulein Porsche offered.
 

By the time we got back to the autobahn it was fully dark which had me dozing behind Mum who had fallen to slumbers call not far out of Davos – I guess it’s the mountain air – or she’s getting old! Not sure what it was but something brought me back to consciousness with a bit of a start.

“Where are we?”
“Middle of Feldkirch,” Dad allowed, “be about five minutes to the hotel.”
“’kay.”
“You’d best wake Mand up.”
“’ready awake,” Mand offered as she did the whole spidey stretch thing.

We’d beaten the bus back of course but not by a lot so dinner remained scheduled for seven thirty which gave us enough time to get a shower before going down. Things were a little calmer this evening, I think everyone was feeling the effects of our day in Davos. Not that it stopped dinner being consumed, tonight it was a local take on a Spanish omelette served with Kasespätzle and some green stuff.

I wouldn’t say I had high expectations when I saw it but it tasted okay and was certainly filling, the slice of custard strudel for dessert was however the highlight of the meal. As we’ve come to expect, George got our attention as the table staff distributed the after dinner coffee.

“everyone recovered?”

There were a few mumbles to the contrary.

“I’ll not keep you from your beds then,” the Boss continued, “tomorrow, longish ride up through the mountains, the forecast is dry but cold so we shouldn’t have a repeat of Wednesday. We’ll go as one group, we got into a bit of a mess with that too.”

“What time?” Erika asked.
“We’ll aim for nine, we will stop for coffee on the way round but you don’t need me to remind you to have a good breakfast. We should be back mid-afternoon so you will have some personal time before dinner, which I’m led to believe will be a special farewell menu. Questions?”
“How far is it tomorrow?” Tal enquired.
“About one twenty,” Dad told us, “nothing too exacting.”
“Heard that before,” I mumbled to Gret.
“Gaby, you want to share?”
“Just saying that it sounds a good day.”

Never misses a trick.
 

“Cards again?” Tal queried as we left the dining room.
“No beer though, I’m done in,” Mand admitted.
“Hey Ron, cards?” I called over to my former right hand girl.
“Yeah why not,” she agreed.
“Any chance of coffee?” Mand asked.
“And there’s me thinking its my company you wanted, instead its my coffee machine, good job I brought plenty of beans.”
“We can get some more tomorrow,” I suggested.
“Whatever, which room?”
“Cards are in ours,” Gret volunteered.
“Ten minutes?”
“’kay,” I agreed.
 
When we reconvened we’d all lost our team dresses in favour of bed wear, well its only us, its not like we’re in the Stube or anything is it? Ron arrived with her coffee machine and soon the aroma of good Arabica beans flavoured the air of room two one five as the card school got underway. As you know, I’m not exactly a card shark so after a couple of games of Pontoon I sat out to leave the hardened players to it. I read Tali’s magazines then I have to admit to falling asleep.

“Gab.”
“Hmm, ‘s’matter Will?”
“Bed girl.”
“’ready sleep.”
“Gis a hand Ron.”
“She’s well out of it, who’s Will?”
“No idea,” Mand admitted.
“Where going?”
“To our room.”
“We got a room Willy?”

© Maddy Bell 22.03.2019

*Due to the death of Her Majesty, Elizabeth II 3 days before this was posted, William is now of course, heir to the British throne.

 
“Urgh,” I allowed cracking an eye open, “Woz the time?”
“Time to be up if you want breakfast this morning,” Mand suggested.

Sugar, I don’t want to repeat yesterday morning – not that it was exactly my fault but that doesn’t make much difference to the end result does it? I hauled myself out of bed and headed for the facilities.

“You were well out of its last night,” Mand mentioned as I did my business.
“Don’t remember.”
“Kept going on about some Will chap,” she went on.
Will? Who the heck is…ah, that Will, “Like what?”
“You seemed to think you were sharing a room.”
Oh bum, “Must’ve been dreaming.”
“Some dream,” Mand grinned poking her head around the door.
“Don’t remember,” I admitted.
“So, who’s Will?”
“Er no idea,” I fibbed, “You wearing thermals today?”

My road rash is scabby now but there’s some more bruising coming out although it thankfully doesn’t hurt much. On the other hand, well my right one actually, the wrist is still quite swollen and a glorious rainbow of bruise, I’ve got about eighty percent of movement but it does hurt a bit in certain positions. I guess it’s gonna be a try it and see thing today.
 
Down in the breakfast room it was business as usual, everyone tucking into a decent breakfast with all the trimmings. That doesn’t mean a total pig out of course, that’s counterproductive but a bowl of muesli just isn’t gonna cut it when there’s a good four hours in the saddle ahead of us. I started with a boiled egg followed by yoghurt, scrambled egg and bacon ‘sandwich’, a cheese and meat sandwich then finishing with a croissant loaded with Nutella® and of course several cups of coffee. Bet I still get the munchies down the road but I’m sure Kat and Petra will have snacks for us when we stop for coffee.

“Not very warm,” Tal opined when we emerged into the outside world a few minutes later.
“Arctic,” Ron added.
“I’m gonna wear my ski gloves,” Manda told us turning back towards the hotel.
“Good idea,” I agreed, “Fetch mine will ya?”
“Cost ya.”
“Whatever, they’re on the desk.”

George addressed the assembled womanhood, “Okay ladies, I’ll drive point with Kat, the bus’ll follow behind. Steady pace please, we’ll stop at the top of the pass for coffee, Jen, you’re in charge on the road, let’s get moving.”
 
No arguments with that, even with thermals and ski gloves I was shivering as we waited. Mum led off and once more we headed up into Feldkirch, George passing us on the way in. it was sort of déjà vu when we passed under the castle and started the climb through the gorge although today it wasn’t foggy damp but foggy frosty.

We stayed on the road today though, a steady rotation starting after we passed the motorway turn with its resulting reduction in traffic. The trees and fields were heavily rimed, the road however was merely damp although the odd roadside puddle looked to be iced over. There were a few glimpses of blue sky through the fogginess and the mountain tops to our left glinting white in the sunshine.

After a few kilometres George signalled a left turn which took us not just over the river Ill and the autobahn but out of the mountain’s shadow into the slightly warmer air of the sun-bathed northern side of the valley. Another turn headed us eastward once more and I felt pretty content and happy as we cruised along at a little short of thirty K.

“This I can live with,” Gret mentioned.
“Hope it’s like this all the way,” Mand added.
“Not likely,” I put in from behind them, “We have to go over some of these rocks.”
“Spoilsport,” Gret told me.
 
We trundled along in the morning sunshine, the roads dry with no real traffic, through a couple of villages interspersed with wide open meadows, the mountains not looking particularly high on our side of the valley. Once again George indicated a left turn which headed towards the wall of the valley, looks like we might be getting to some climbing. It was a bit of a drag into the village, Thuringer, then the main road took a left and we didn’t, going immediately into a narrow and steep climb.

I say steep, not stupid but enough to have us all out of the saddle up the ramp, around a hairpin and it eased slightly before a wider turn led into a steeper straight. At least the road widened out which meant the oncoming traffic could pass easily. We escaped the village and whilst still climbing quite hard it was now across a sunbathed meadow dotted with farm buildings.

The worrying thing was the pretty obvious snow line that we were steadily approaching. By the time we reached Thuringerberg we were all huffing a bit, jackets were unzipped and the choice of clothing under debate. Looking back across the Illtal the mountains were starkly outlined against the clear blue sky, north facing slopes appearing to be in darkness. The climbing eased as the road turned along the contours taking us towards what appeared to be a narrow defile topped with snow covered peaks.

We’d got a bit spread out on the climb but as the road bounced about a bit, everyone got back together and all the grumping of being warm was replaced by jackets being reclosed and a re-adjustment of headgear. I don’t know how far we’d climbed but we started to lose some of the gain as we dropped into a cold, greyer world. George accelerated away as we dropped once more into a rime encrusted black and white world.

There was no wind down here, the plume of steam from the wood yard rose straight up through the silence and then the road bent upwards once again. As we climbed it became difficult to differentiate the frost from deposits of frozen snow at the roadside and each breath resulted in a cloud of condensed air. This latest steep ramp eased off when it reached some trees, by the time we emerged and entered the village of Sonntag the frost was gone leaving us with just a few patches of unmelted snow and a return to sunshine.
 
“That was horrible,” Roni huffed as we reassembled on the level road through the village.
“At least the road was clear.”
“Yeah, you’d never get up that if there was anything on the road.”

Subconsciously I winced as I recalled Wednesday’s mishap, don’t know about up but definitely not down!

Mum dropped back through the bunch checking everyone was okay, I guess that’s what the road captain is supposed to do.

“How’s the wrist kiddo?
“Okay, aches a bit when I get out of the saddle, how far is it to the top?”
“Think we’re about half way up, let me know if it gets too uncomfortable.”
“Yeah.” I agreed.

 
The road was still climbing but quite steadily, by the time we cleared the village we were actually above the snowline but the tarmac was dry and with the sun now high in the sky it was quite pleasant. We looped higher up the mountainside through a series of lazy hairpins, the grade hovering around the uncomfortable point. A last ramp brought us into Fontanella, the road twiddling about a bit before leaving the picture postcard views for a descent into a heavily wooded, and cold, gorge.

  The road above Fontanella © Maddy Bell 2017

George’s Bimmer growled in protest as the road crossed a bridge into a twisting and steep climb through the snow-covered timber. There was no chance to ease into the climb, one second it was coasting across the burbling river, the next it was slinging the gear shifters inboard moving from the saddle to standing on the pedals. I could hear the bus complaining behind us as we clambered up what must be at least a twenty percent grade which had bikes all over the place as everyone had their own battle with gravity.

Without my dodgy wrist I would’ve been up the front, giving my all but today pulling on the bars was uncomfortable and so I quickly slipped back as I tried to return to the saddle as much as possible. Eventually things became less dramatic but by now we were strung out over at least a hundred metres. The road emerged from the trees to reveal the village at what looked to be the top, maybe a couple of K’s away still but it also revealed a tunnel.
 
I dragged myself back up to Gret, who looked like she was feeling it almost as much as me.

“Nearly there,” I suggested huffing alongside her.
“Not close enough,” she complained.
“Yeah that was brutal, beat you to the top,” I challenged.
“Like that’s gonna happen.”
“Oh come on Gret, it’s not that bad.”
“Urgh.”

The tunnel was lit, not well but enough to see the road but I was glad of the bus protecting us from traffic at the rear and adding extra illumination forwards. It wasn’t a long tunnel, maybe four hundred metres but it did twist as it climbed through the rock before throwing us out into the bright white of the snow-covered mountain. Ahead of us the rest were clearly having an informal race for the summit but the pair of us just kept a steady cadence up through the snow.

We reached the village board and Gret, the cow, took off. No fair, I went to follow but as soon as I pulled on the bars the pain was excruciating and I had to sit straight back down, bum. By the time I’d twiddled up the last few metres to the Faschinajoch summit the rest of my team mates were heading for one of the restaurants otherwise filled with skiers.

“You alright Gab?” Dad asked running up to me as I slumped over the bars.
“Yeah,” I gasped with a wave of my dodgy hand.
“Come on kiddo, let’s get you some coffee eh.”

 
A few minutes later, with hot chocolate rather than coffee in hand I was feeling somewhat better, more human at least. This morning really has been a rude awakening, my legs are okay, I can’t have lost all my fitness in like two days can I?

“Do you want to ride in the bus now?” Mum asked.
“Dunno, is there anymore climbing?”
“A little bit I think.”
“It’s not my legs, I just can’t pull on the bars much.”
“Hmm, well it’s your call but there’s no loss of face taking the bus, you’re injured, no one’s gonna think any less of you.”
“I know, I want to keep riding.”
“Okay,” she allowed, “But if it’s getting too much stop and that’s an order kiddo.”
“Yes Mum,” I agreed.
“Fine, five minutes okay,” she advised before turning to repeat the departure time to the rest and the bemused plank riders sharing the eatery.

George took a couple of snaps as we prepared to set off once again, it was actually quite warm in the sunshine and everyone, including Gret, was back to happy and smiling. We set off, the north side of the pass dropping quickly into shade and into one of those half tunnels. The speed was exhilarating, the road pretty wide and we streamed down the mountain grabbing snatches of the road below.

All that effort to get to the top and the metres are lost so quickly. We went into a last bit of full on tunnel ready to make best of our speed into the rest of the drop.
 
“ICE!” someone shouted ahead of us.

Bike brakes are pretty good but when you’re doing best bit of seventy kph it still takes some distance. I hauled on the levers, my wrist not enjoying the effort at all, most of my speed was scrubbed by the time I reached the tunnel mouth. Just as well, the road, in full shade was coated in a sort of frozen slush, not great in a car but decidedly lethal for two wheeled traffic.

By some miracle everyone was still upright, although Tina was stopped and struggling to keep vertical as her bike slipped away from her. If it’s like this all the way down no one will be riding. George had his hazard lights going, Kat was out and walking back up to us.

“Everyone okay?”
“Think so,” Mum told her.
“It looks clearer further down.”
“Okay, we’ll take it steady, Dave, give us some road,” she called back to where Dad was with the bus.

We set off carefully down the icy surface and after maybe two hundred metres it cleared and cleats were re engaged and with a collective sigh, we set off again on a clear road surface. Or was it, we were mostly in shade and the temperature was well down so whilst fairly wide we kept the speed in check.

We didn’t get any more of the obvious stretches of ice but some of the bridges looked a bit dodgy. It seemed like eternity before a steep straight and a short climb brought us into Au and the relative safety of civilisation. We picked up the Bregenz road, a wide fast affair carrying more traffic than we’ve seen all day, by the time we left the town Mum had us organised and we started with a fast rotation.

 
There were a couple of dodgy looking bits even on this road, I swear one long straight stretch was black ice for over a kilometre. The temperature only really started to rise when we reach Egg where, after, I dunno, thirty K of downhill we hit a draggy climb. Draggy yes but we were able to maintain our tempo over the top before picking things up a bit as the road started to drop towards the Rhein valley.
 
We descended into a gorge and it was only a last-minute shout of ‘recht!’ that saved us from plummeting into the no bikes tunnel, taking instead the old road. This was a real switchback through the river gorge, steep ramps, hairpin turns, sweeping bends and then it opened out into a built-up area. George led us through what turned out to be Dornbirn before pulling into a bus halt and walking back to us.

“It’s only a few kilometres back to the hotel from here, if you like you can take a longer way back.”
“That sounded like an order,” Mand mumbled.
“How much further you thinking Boss?” Mum asked.
“An hour maybe, there is some stuff I need to talk with Dave about, Mike and the girls can follow you in the bus.”
“What do you think ladies?” Mum posed.

A few shrugs and other noncommitting replies seemed to settle things.

“How about you Gaby?”
“I’ve got this far, as long as there’s no climbing.”
“Okay George,” Mum started, “We can do a bit of laning, don’t think we need the bus, we can always ring if we need help.”
“We’ll see you back at the hotel then, should be time to get you some lunch organised.”

 
Mum led us off and instead of continuing along the main road turned us down the next right-hand option. After the either up or down of the previous three or so hours it seemed a bit strange to be on the almost flat floor of the Rheintal. It was certainly more relaxing, it wasn’t exactly hot but it was a good few degrees warmer than we’ve had most of the day and jackets were being undone, gloves changed and snacks devoured.

We crossed what I guess is the Feldkirch autobahn, the road heading towards a wooded area standing alone in the open landscape. I wasn’t really paying attention so I was a bit surprised when we rolled across first the unmanned Austrian then the Swiss Zollamt with its armed guards. Not that they took any more than cursory notice of ten women cyclists entering the Confederation. I’ve no idea how Mum knew the way but she either led or called us through several junctions eventually putting us on a tiny field lane.

“You sure this is right?” Erika asked when it went from tarmac to packed dirt.
“Yup, you’ll see,” Mum called back.

Well it’s not like it was great big rocks or anything, you just need a few skills and we were quickly making a short climb onto what turned out to be the flood bank of the Rhein. The trail was okay if a bit narrow in places as we followed the river upstream towards what looked like a road bridge over the wide river. Not just a bridge as it turns out but another Austro / Swiss border crossing.

Our guide led us straight over the road and onto the now hard surfaced Austrian path. You always think of rivers being water side to side but, here at least, the swirling grey waters of Father Rhein wound between banks of sandy grey wash strewn with bits of tree. We followed the river for a couple of kilometres before we turned ‘inland’, turning our backs to Switzerland and heading towards the looming crags of the Voralberg.

Tracks improved to full on tarmac and eventually to a proper road. We followed blindly through the next village which looked sort of familiar, but it was another ten minutes riding before I actually recognised where we were, the Maccy D’s just along from the hotel. Of course, after what my comp claimed to be just over a hundred and twenty K, we just had to have a bit of a sprint and despite my wrist I had a pop.

Not that it did me much good, Katy and Mum both easily had me and I only just edged Anja – flippin wrist! We arrived at the Weisses Kreuz in dribs and drabs, heading directly to where Kat and Mike were sipping hot beverage by the bike transport.
 
“Where the heck have you had these?” Mike enquired.
“The roads have been wet today,” Mum suggested.
“Someone thought we needed some cyclocross training,” Tina put in.
“They’re road bikes,” Kat pointed out.
“And your point?” Mum queried.
Mike shook his head, “Whatever, glad I’m not doing the laundry.”

Kat gave him a dirty look, that’s her job when the team are away and with the juniors here as well it hasn’t got easier.
 

Lunch was sandwiches, coffee and strudel, welcome enough and consumed before heading up for showers.

“Before you all disappear,” Petra, standing in for the Boss addressed us as we snaffled the food, “Special dinner tonight, you don’t have to wear team dresses.”
“Nice,” Mand suggested from behind me, “Didn’t think I’d get to wear my glad rags the way it was going.”
“Yeah,” I agreed.
 
© Maddy Bell 02.04.2019

“You fancy going into the town this afternoon?” Manda queried.
“Could do,” I allowed, I guess sleeping can wait. “what about the others?”
“Tal was talking about the water park again, Gret’ll probably go with.”
“Should we ask Ron?”
She shrugged, “if you like.”

I do miss doing stuff with Ron, we had some good adventures both at races and other times. I fished my Handy out of the pile of ‘stuff’ piled on the desk and hit Ron’s speed dial.

“Ron?”
“Regenbogen.”
“Eh?”
“You know, your rings? Forget it, wassup?”
“You doing anything this afternoon?”
“Thought I’d take a walk along to the burger place, why?”
“Me an’ Mand are going into Feldkirch, for a mooch like, if you wanna come.”
“Okay, my arm is twisted, meet you in reception.”
“Tschussie.”

“She’s gonna meet us downstairs,” I advised my roommate.
“Netter put some clothes on then, these yours?” she held what looked like a pair of putrid socks at arms length.
“Erm, soz,” I’d just peeled them off and dropped them when we got back.
“Sometimes Bond.”

The sun might have made an appearance today and it might be warmer here than where we were earlier but its still flippin’ cold and will no doubt get colder later. I dressed in jeans, jumper and my ankle boots then located coat, hat and gloves grabbed my bag and followed de Vreen out of our current shared abode.

Kat was talking with Ron when we got to reception.

“Ron says you’re going into town, mind if I tag along?”
“Fine by me,” I opined, “Mand?”

That was a bit unfair of me really, she can hardly say no without looking a right be-atch.

“Bus is in five minutes,” Mand advised.
“I’ll just get my jacket.”
 
I think the driver saw us waiting to cross at the lights, whatever, he waited for us at the stop and we were soon getting off in the centre of the town. We’ve not actually done the shops, they weren’t open when we came the other day so rather than head straight to the main street and the Weihnachtsmarkt we headed along Schlossergasse which isn’t exactly shop central but led us to the top of the town where we turned toward Marktgasse. We were none of us looking for anything in particular, so it was as much a comparison of local fashion as actual shopping.

We couldn’t resist the apple fritters on the market although we did share, well four of them would be a bit piggy. The local examples of Cunda and H&M let us warm up a bit, then we did the market, well you have to don’t you? I found some stuff for Christmas presents, some trinkets for a couple of the Angels, a necklace for Mum and a belt for Max with an Edelweiss decorated buckle.

You can’t do a market without Glühwein so before we headed for the return bus we went through the ritual. Whether it was the lingering sweetness of the apple but it tasted a bit better, less bitter than it did last time. It was full on dark by now and it felt a lot later than half five when we got back.

 
“Mand?”
“What?”
“Any chance you can do something with my hair, It won’t behave.”
“You should’ve dried it properly earlier,” she opined from the bathroom.
“You know I’m a dead loss with hair.”
“Give me a minute, I need to finish mine.”

Well it was closer to five when Aphrodite appeared, her hair a work of art I can’t even consider for my mop. Mand looked at my sorry pink tinged mop.

“Well?”
“there’s not time to get it properly wet, you wearing the beads?”
“Yeah,” I allowed.
“’kay, sit,” she ordered.
 

“Well?”
“Its very, er, Heidi.” I suggested looking in the mirror.
“The clock’s running,” my hairdresser pointed out.

To be honest I wouldn’t have the patience to do this stuff, but Mand seems to enjoy doing it. My head is adorned with some intricate braiding, which disguises the unruliness, somehow she’s sculpted it into a flower, a couple of combs give it a bit of life. So okay, it wasn’t what I’d been thinking of but I’m not complaining, this looks much better than anything I can do.

“Cheers Mand, I owe you one.”
“Or several, come on or we’ll be late."

It was but the work of moments to shimmy into my frock, I already had sparkly hose on and a set of posh lingerie – well I know I’m wearing it. The sparkly sandals are actually Jules’, they’re a bit Gothic but they go with the dress quite well which is why I ‘liberated’ them for this trip. Its not like she’s at home to wear them is it?

I did debate wearing a wrist brace but it would spoil the whole ensemble so I used a hair bobble with a sewn on bow as a sort of bracelet and I was hot to trot as they say. Mand was looking at least as spectacular in her figure hugging red lace number, it looked like she was running commando. Good job we’re not leaving the building tonight, but that aside we headed down to the dining room.

 
Okay, perhaps we have gone a little overboard, everyone else was dressed nicely but definitely more casually than us, oh well. Instead of being spread over a couple of tables tonight we were seated around a single table which was already pre loaded with charged wine glasses. We found seats, I found myself between Katy and Tina, and the serving staff were soon distributing the cream of vegetable soup, something a bit heavier than we’ve had all week.

The atmosphere and conversation had a distinct ‘end of term’ feel to it, this is essentially the last team ‘event’ until the training camp in early March. Until then everyone gets to spend time at home, organising their own training and getting their heads around another season on the road. Dad and George will be keeping tabs of course, but for a few weeks at least, for most of us, Erika will be riding cross of course, it’s a chance for some down time.

Soup consumed, the table was cleared for the main course which turned out to be a pasta buffet. A couple of tables were wheeled out, already laden with covered tureens and kettles. Oh boy, this looks mega.

Lids were removed and we were invited to dig in. it wasn’t quite a stampede, there was plenty to go round and I could see multiple visits in my future. There wasn’t any spaghetti or Tagliatelle but there were kettles of Farfalle, shells, twists, Ravioli and Rigatoni, not in sauce though, for that you could choose from Carbonara, Milanese, Bolognese or Neapolitan plus trays of Canneloni and Lasagna. If that wasn’t enough there was garlic bread and salad stuff, oh my.

Most of us treated it like a buffet should be, a bit of this, some of that but George just had the Canneloni with the Carbonara – his loss. After a plate of mixed stuff I did go back a second time, I couldn’t resist the Lasagna and I wasn’t disappointed. The wine was flowing this evening, it was getting to be a jolly affair, more chatter than eating even if the diets were out of the window for one night.

At some point the pasta plates were cleared and to my and I think a couple of others surprise, dessert bowls appeared in their stead.

“What do you reckon this is for,” I asked Tina.
“No idea, Eis maybe?”
“I don’t think so,” Katy chipped in from the other side as George got our attention my tapping his glass.
“Ot oh, Boss speech,” Tina sighed.

“I’ll be quick then I’ll pass you over to Marco,” he indicated the chap in Chef’s whites stood off to one side. “So, I hope you’ve all enjoyed this week, from my point of view its certainly been successful. Tomorrow its back home of course, some of you I won’t see until next year so I’ll wish you both Frohes Weihnachts and Frohes Neu Jahr now. I’d like to propose a toast, to you all, lets two thousand and seven be as successful as two thousand six, to you all, prost!”
“Prost!” everyone chorused back.
“That’s it from me,” George continued, “Marco, they’re all yours.”

“Ladies, gentlemen we have a tradition at the Weisses Kreuz, to begin the pasta buffet you’ve eaten this evening but also we like to crown the Knӧdelkӧnig or Kӧnigen. But for this we must determine who is the holder of the title and for this we have a little competition.”
“Hope its nothing too athletic, I’m fit to burst,” Tina stage whispered.
Marco grinned, “no Fraulein, you don’t have to leave your seats to take part, it is a food eating contest, of course its Knӧdel. Its quite simple, the person eating the most is the winner and will be declared Kӧnig, let the battle commence.

The serving staff came around and delivered two plum dumplings to each of us, they were quite big things too and after all that pasta, urgh! Everyone set to on their desserts, but clearly not everyone had space for even round one. I did clear mine but I was quite glad it wasn’t a speed thing.

When the servers returned with more, a good percentage of our number passed but I let another couple be delivered, not that I reckoned I’d get through the pair of them. I took my time and to my surprise got through them both but my stomach felt fit to explode so I’m not sure why I accepted another dumpling. The table was getting quite boisterous at this stage, only Mike the mechanic and myself took on number five, half the table chanting and encouraging each of us.

I really didn’t think I’d get through this one but I gamely dug in and fed my maw. Another spoon, then another, I shovelled the last bit in and put my spoon down, no more! The table erupted in cheers, ‘Gaby, Gaby’. Mike hadn’t finished his before having to rush off to the lavs, oh yeah I rule!

Marco reappeared and I was presented with a small but solid trophy which declared me the Knӧdelkӧnig, Weisses Kreuz. Some week huh?
 

“Urgh, I don’t feel so good.”
“No surprises there then,” Mand stated as she extracted herself from her glad rags.

I might’ve survived the pasta, even the Knӧdel championship, but unlike previous evenings when us ‘youngsters’ found our own entertainment, tonight we’ve been in the Stube with the ‘adults’. I use the term a little loosely, this lot might not party often, but when they do, they do it hard. You’re probably thinking drinking games right? Well the plug was firmly pulled on any teen involvement in that enterprise however there was no such restriction with the acapela karaoke or other ‘games’ – just don’t go there. All of that on top of the food, well I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be sick or quite what.

“You getting undressed or what?” Mother de Vreen demanded.
“I can’t,” I groaned.
“Fine but don’t complain to me when you ruin your dress sleeping in it.”

Urgh, she has a point, I’m bound to rip half the beads off and it wasn’t exactly cheap.

“Gis a hand then,” I requested pushing myself upright.
“Whatev…..”

I didn’t hear the rest, my gullet was in revolt and I only just got to the bathroom before I got a second look at my dinner. Not good but after ten minutes of decorating the porcelain I did feel quite a bit better, it’s a miracle it hadn’t happened earlier.

“Better?” Mand asked when I returned to the main room.
“Lots.”
“You still need a hand?”
“I think I’ve got it,” I told her fishing around for the zip.
“Its under your arm? Geez Gab, no wonder Max is so enamoured, you’re a proper cheap date.”
“Huh, I resemble that!”

I managed to undo the zip but then I couldn’t undo the little hook and eye, urghhhh! But eventually I got the frock off, PJ’s on and into bed.
 
“Been a good trip,” Mand stated into the darkness.
“Yeah,” I sleepily agreed.

I think she wanted to talk more but I was beyond conversation and we’ve shared often enough that she knows the signs of my impending unconsciousness.
 

It’s a good job Dad wasn’t on a mission to get home, by the time I’d located and packed everything it was some after eight, my arrival for brekkie coincided with the departure of the main body of the team. That delayed my arrival further of course, not that I exactly felt like eating much.

“You alright kiddo?” Mum enquired as I picked at a Pain au Chocolat.
I gave a shrug, “not really hungry.”
“You did put away a fair bit last night,” she observed.
“And lost it,” Mand supplied.

Thanks for sharing that.

Dad returned from the coffee machine, “you not eating Munchkin? We won’t be stopping until we get up Speyer way.”

Okay I need to eat something, not the scrambled egg though, maybe some fruit salad and yoghurt.
 

We only had our bags to put in the car, the bikes have gone with Mike so apart from the Apollinaris jackets on the rear shelf we look quite normal. Once you get past the two heads. What am I talking about? Well from the looks we were getting you’d think we had double the normal cranium count, my hair’s still in the braids Mand did last night but come on.

Dad had us pretty much retracing our outbound route, the sun was out and we were treated to some nice views of a very sparkly Bodensee before heading across the Schwarzwald. I must admit to dropping off somewhere after Donaueschingen so the next thing I knew Mand was poking me.

“Gab, wake up, we’re stopping.”
“Eh?” okay, I’m not really with it.
“Lunch?”
She had my attention now, I cracked a seeing orb open, “where are we?”
“Speyer,” Dad announced from the front seats.

From the view outside we weren’t stopping at motorway services, we’ve been before but I didn’t recognise anything until we passed the Technical Museum – maybe we’ll get to go in some time. We looped around the Dom and into a car park close beside it where surprisingly we found a bay without difficulty.

“There anywhere to get some milk?” Mum asked.
“Sure there’s a Penny or something along the main street,” Dad supplied.
“Well if you want tea in the morning we need to get some, they’ll be closed when we get back to Dernau.”
“You two coming?” Dad enquired.
“Do we have to, its freezing,” I moaned shrugging deeper into my ski jacket.

Well okay, not technically freezing but there is a raw wind blowing around the cathedral.

“Up to you, Manda?”
“Might see if there’s anything to read.”
“We can pick up some magazines if you want to stay with Regenbogen.”
“Okay.”
“Shall we say the front of the Dom in,” Dad checked his watch, “forty minutes?”

The Olds set off to get necessary groceries leaving us with forty minutes to kill.

“So what’re we doing?” de Vreen asked.
I looked about, “the Tourist Info’s open.”
“If its out of this wind it gets my vote.”
 
“Thought you were just getting some milk?”
“You know what its like, you have to go past the fresh produce and the freezer cabinet on the way, I got you a Stern and Bild Mand, that okay?”
“They’re fine, its just something to do in the car.”
“So where’re we eating,” I enquired.
 

There was a reasonable restaurant a stone’s throw from the Dom, one of those German clones, all beige and wood with the standard menu. I’m not knocking it, it’s a proven formula even if it’s not very imaginative and it certainly doesn’t deter the prospective patrons. Not that it was packed out today but it is December and tourists are a bit thin on the ground.

My stomach was expecting food by now, my miserable breakfast only working due to my slumber. A bowl of Cauliflower soup and a slice of chocolate orange gateaux went some way to filling the hole, Mum hinted we’d get a take home Chinese for dinner so I was a bit more restrained than I might’ve been. We didn’t rush the meal but we didn’t hang about either, it was after two by the time we pulled out of the car park.
 

Once on the road I occupied myself with sending a few texts to my friends – well I was bored.

“You seen this?” Mand queried.
“How could I see it, Mum only got it an hour ago,” I pointed out, “what is it?”
“Apparently Prince William was in Davos, it’s a wonder we didn’t see him,” she informed me, “says something about being with some mystery blonde… hang on, that’s an Apollonaris jacket!”

© Maddy Bell 26.03.2019

 
I made a grab for the magazine but failed to snag it from de Vreen’s fingers, “Let’s see then.”
“Says ‘the pair,’ not sure what that is,” Mand’s German is pretty good but she still misses some stuff, “‘each other, laughing and joking on the slopes’.”

Clearly we were snapped by some paparazzi, of all the luck.

“Doesn’t mention you by name,” Manda stated.
“Oh joy, it won’t take much of a detective will it?”
“You never mentioned meeting royalty,” Mum opined from up front.
“Dad spoke to him too,” well maybe I can deflect some of the attention.
“Dave?” Mum queried.
“I only spoke to that chap who helped you get to the cablecar.”
“Yup,” I agreed.
“That wasn’t,” he started, “But you said his name was Wales.”
“Uh huh,” I agreed.
“That was Prince William?”
“Yep,” I confirmed.
“And just how does my daughter get to be on ‘friendly’ terms with the Royal family?” Mum asked.

“Er, it’s a long story?”
“This I’ve got to hear,” Dad mentioned.
“Yeah, you’ve kept this quiet,” Mand added.
I took a deep breath, “Well you remember the big wedding in Munich?”
“Sophie’s sister?”
“No, that was in Stuttgart, before that, you might not’ve been about thinking on it. Well anyway there was this big wedding, pretty much everyone was there, it’s where I met Sophia.”
“Get on with it Princess,” Dad chivvied.
“Hmmph!” I’ll give him Princess.
“She’ll get there Dave,” Mum suggested, “Go on kiddo, the big wedding?”
“Well the von Strechau’s are family on the brides’ side so we had to the reception in the English Gardens.
“English Gardens?” Mand queried.

This could take some time.

“It’s like a big park in the middle of Munich,” I explained, “Anyway, it was just the close family and some select guests from around Europe.”
“Like Prince William?”
“Kate was there too,” I told my audience.

Mand did the eye rolling thing, “And you never thought to tell anyone all this?”
“It’s no biggy, it was a wedding, I was there, Will was there, end of, there’s nothing else to tell.”

Well I’m not going to tell them everything am I?

“And Prince William just happened to remember you from what, two years ago?” Mum pursued.
“Well it’s not like he exactly recognised me, he saw me take a tumble and came to rescue me, I didn’t even know he was there.”
“Didn’t he have bodyguards and all that?” Mand enquired.
“Well yeah but I didn’t see them ‘till after.”
“Nothing new there,” Dad mentioned.
“You never mentioned you fell over,” Mum observed.
“It was skiing, everyone falls over.”
“Must’ve been quite spectacular if you needed rescuing,” Mand suggested.
The silence from up front suggested my parents had similar thoughts.
“Think I got my skis crossed or something, Will was nearby and came to check I was okay, end of story, can we change the subject?”

Except it won’t be of course, everyone back home will see the pictures, there might even be a repeat of ‘hunt the blonde’, why does this stuff happen to me? I suppose it could be worse, they haven’t got pics of me falling over.

 
I did eventually get to see the photographs, not exactly brilliant but it was quite clearly me and Wills, no denying that and it did look like we were having a pally conversation. If I remember rightly it was mostly an exchange of dancing and skiing anecdotes and tips, certainly nothing more exciting. Hopefully something more exciting will come along quickly and my latest fifteen minutes of fame will be just that, fleeting.

 
“What are you doing tomorrow?” Mum asked as we cleared up the remains of our Chinese.
“The Weihnachtsmarkt with Mand, why?”
“That’s okay, just thought I ought to know what my daughter is up to.”
“You’re not usually so interested.”
“I’m always interested kiddo, I’m your mother, I do worry about you.”
“What about Jules?”
“She might officially be an adult but yes, I worry about her too, it’s what parents do.”
 

If you remember rightly, we decided to wear Kostüm on our Weihnachtsmarkt stall this year, it’s slightly less embarrassing than elves and a bit more practical than last year’s Mittelalter theme. Okay, the girls are out on display but I’m okay with that if it gets more money in for our chosen charity, the local Children’s Home. Where we’ve been, down in Austria, you sort of expect it to be cold with the mountains and stuff but while we’ve been away, it’s turned a lot colder here in the Ahrtal too.

I don’t usually wear hose with my Dirndl or if I do, they’re like ten denier but with frost outside this morning, well my lady bit’s still get cold. A quick search of my hosiery draw turned up a pair of heavier tan tights and if I wear a second pair of pants over them I should at least delay the toilet trips a bit. I pulled on a cropped cardigan and checked myself out in the mirror.

Hmm, not too shabby, could’ve done without the wrist brace but I’m supposed to use it for at least another week. On a whim I swapped my nose stud for the tiny gold ring – well you never know, von Strechau might happen by? I gathered my Handy and wallet up and headed down for Frühstück, it’s not like we’ll get much eating opportunity in the market cabin is it?

“You gonna be warm enough like that?” Mum asked as I popped bread in the toaster.
“We are inside,” I pointed out.
“Take a jacket with you, you don’t want to get a chill.”
“Mu-um, I’m not a little kid, I can dress myself.”
“Sometimes,” she intoned, “Your father will take you guys down, we’ll pick you up later, does Connie need a lift?”
“Not sure, probably, I’ll give her a bell.”
“Ten o’clock okay?”
“Yeah, that’ll be great thanks,” well that’s transport sorted.

“You want a lift?”
“I was gonna ask the same,” Con told me.
“Well Dad’s got to go to Apollinaris so he’s going anyhow and you’ve not been in the new car yet have you?”
“New car?”
“Yeah, Dad picked it up just before we went to Austria.”
“In that case I’ll cancel mum, I’ve got the torte to go down, everything else is sorted, so tell me about Austria.”
“Later, I need to sort the rest of my stuff out for washing, we’ll be around at ten.”
“Okay, see you then.”
“Yeah tschuss.”

 
“What’ve you done to your arm, it’s not broken is it?” Con enquired when I took my Apollinaris ski jacket off, well it’s warm and was close to hand when we came out.
“Fell on some snow,” I allowed.
“Skiing is dangerous,” Con sagely noted.
“She was on her bike,” Mand put in.
“You weren’t skiing?”
“No,” I sighed, “We were on the bikes and it started snowing so we turned back, I hit some ice et voila, a trip to the hospital.”
“Was that before or after meeting Prince William?”

Damn, I forgot she gets the gossip mags. Well I can hardly make a denial can I, even a bat can see it’s me in the pictures.

“Before,” I told her before checking the steamer was working.
“So?”
“What?”
“Gott, have I got to drag it out of you? So what happened, how is your picture in this week’s Bild?”

So of course, I had to tell my BFF the somewhat abridged version of events, a tale I’m likely to have to repeat several times more I’m sure. So okay, it might not be one hundred percent of the truth but I somehow doubt that it’ll be contradicted by anyone, least of all Will Wales. Not that there’s a lot more but it could get twisted about and heaven forbid, reignite the ‘mystery blonde’ saga.

“So that’s it, you fell over and he just happened to be nearby?”
“Yup.”
“I dunno how you do it Bond,” she told me shaking her head.
“Nor do I, you finish slicing that torte?”
“Er, oh yeah, here you go.”

She passed me the cake to put in the ‘cold’ cabinet along with the Schwarzwalder.

Just then Mand returned with the crockery, Max and the apprentices. For security the crockery is being kept at Der Mühle, who, once again, are giving us the use of their industrial washing kit. Somehow it seems a little weird seeing everyone in Kostüm, and no one apparently self-conscious about it.

“Liebchen,” Max allowed, “Manda says you’ve hurt your wrist.”
I gave a shrug, “It’s not bad.”
“Maybe I can kiss it better.”

There was some giggling behind him, Pauline and Frannie listening in on our conversation.

“Think it’s beyond that,” I waved my braced arm at him.
“Worth a try though.”
“Later Lothario,” Mand suggested, “Time to open.”
 
The cabin soon warmed up what with the coffee machine and the press of bodies taking refuge from the cold. Con has mastered the art of a half decent Raclette while I’ve been in Austria and they were proving pretty popular, I guess it’s something a little out of the ordinary. The afternoon shift arrived, which today was officially the rest of the Angels and Freddy so I was a little surprised when I heard a familiar voice.

“Careful Drea!”
“Hi guys,” I offered to the family Preiser who had just come into the madhouse.
“Hi Gab,” Bern returned, “Someone wanted to see the Princess.”
“Princess? Wonder where she got that from?” I mused, “You guys partaking?”
Bern turned to the figure behind her, “Mart?”
“My treat,” I interjected, well I know things are tight, sometimes charity should start at home.”
“If you’re sure,” Marty replied with a hint of relief in his voice.
“I wouldn’t offer otherwise would I?”
“Table three’s just free,” Con helpfully advised over my shoulder, “Hi guys.”
“Go sit, can madam have cake?”
“Only a little, she’s been feeding her face all afternoon,” her mother supplied.

“So,” I started as I sat myself at table three, “Wasn’t expecting to see you guys today.”
“Daddy promised Big Ears she could come to see the decorations and stuff,” Bern informed me.
“Blame me,” Mart accused but there was a hint of smile with it.
“So Drea, have you seen the tree?”
She nodded enthusiastically, “Pwitty ladies.”
“She means you guys,” Bern told me, “We gave Pia a lift down and she’s gone on about the ‘pwitty ladies’ ever since.”
“Maybe we should get her her own Kostüm.” I joked.
“Don’t you dare Gaby Bond!”
“Hang on, you gave P a lift?”
“We’ve borrowed dad’s pickup,” Mart told me as he wiped his face, “This is really good, what’s it called again?”

“Raclette mit Speck.”
“Cheese on toast,” Bern surmised, “I can make it at home if you’re that keen, actually, Drea might like it.”
“You remember when we had that toastie eating competition?”
“Ally was sick all over Rhod,” Bern giggled.
“You heard from Al lately?”
Bern gave a resigned shrug, “Nothing since we came out here, your cousin did a job of poisoning minds.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, “You heard about when she came over?”
“Not all the details.”
“Have to fill you in when someone’s not listening.”
“Drea, Tante Gaby doesn’t want your choccy fingers,” Mart suggested as he deftly intercepted said paddies before they reached my dirndl.
“It’s okay, it all needs washing after a day here anyway.”
“Still, she needs to learn Gab, you want a drink Kitten?”

Yeah. Mart’s turning out to be a great Dad even if Drea isn’t actually his.

“She recognized you on the telly,” Bern mentioned.
“On the telly?”
“The Apollinaris advert?”
“Right.”
“Yep, mum wondered what she was on about saying Gaby and pointing at the box, we only caught on the next time the ad came on.”
“Has it been on much, the advert?”
“Loads, haven’t you seen it?”
“I don’t exactly get a lot of TV time what with training and college work.”
“Bet you still watch Tatort?”
“Might do, if I’m around,” I admitted.
“You’re a creature of habit Bond,” my friend chortled.
“Er, you guys want to eat at ours tonight, I know the Olds’d like to see Drea?”
“Erika’s expecting us back.”
“Mum’s doing a roast,” I tempted.
“You’ve only just got back, she won’t want us,” Mart opined.
“Max is coming, more the merrier.”
“Did I hear my name?” von Strechau queried as he came into the cabin, he’s been manning the donation table out in the cold.
I made frantic eye signals, “Just trying to convince these guys to come for dinner tonight with us.”
Thankfully he took the hint, “Yeah you should really come, I’m keen to hear all about Austria, Bridg was on about some pictures in Bild.”
“I don’t think your parents would be too upset if we missed dinner Mart,” Bern suggested, “And we have got the pickup.”
“If it’s okay with your mum,” Mart allowed.
“I’ll ring and tell her to set extra places,” I enthused, “Be right back.”

I quickly headed over to the cupboard cum storeroom where we were keeping our coats and bags, found my Handy and headed outside. Sheesh it’s cold out here!

“Mum?”
“What’s up kiddo?”
“Er can we manage four more for dinner?”
“Possibly, who’s coming?”
“Well I sort of invited Bern and Mart.”
“That’s only two,” she pointed out.
“They’ve got Drea with them.”
“Three. Well two and a half.”
“And I sort of said Max was already coming.”
“They got transport or are we doing taxi service too?”
“Mart’s got his dad’s pickup.”
“Anything else your majesty?”
“Mu-um.”
“You’d best invite Connie too,” Mum instructed, “We’ll see you later.”
“Thanks Mum, tschussie.”
“Bye kiddo.”

“Looks like your goose bumps have got goose bumps,” Con noted when I stopped off to re-stow my Handy.
“It’s flippin cold out there, you’re invited to dinner by the way, roast beef.”
“Nice!”

I’ll take that as acceptance of the invite.

“All set,” I told the junior Preiser family.
“Thanks Gab,” Mart told me.
“Hey thank the cook not the washer up,” I suggested, I can see the dishwasher being pressed into action tonight.
“Really Gab, thanks,” Bern reiterated, “You didn’t have to invite us.”
“It’s what friends do.”
“Don’t you ever stop being you Gaby Bond.”

I coloured up to match my apron, look I don’t do praise do I?
 

“Not bad,” Con stated.
“How much?” Steff asked.
“Four hundred seventeen and a bit of change.”
“Not bad,” I offered.
“We did more yesterday,” Nena observed.
“But we opened later today,” Con noted.
“We putting it in Eva’s safe,” I asked.
“Yeah,” Steff confirmed, “Max, can you take it over when you take the crocks?”
“Fred, you’re running bodyguard,” my BF announced.
“Let’s get this place cleaned up, my dinner’s calling,” Bridg suggested.

Well, no arguing with that sentiment.
 

“What’s in the back?” I asked when my parents pulled up to do taxi duty.
“High chair,” Mum advised as I squeezed into the middle of the back seat.
“High chair?”
“There a parrot in here? Yes a high chair for your ‘niece’.
“Where’d you get one of those on a Sunday afternoon?”
“It was Kat’s, Maria still has her cot and everything in the attic.”
“And I thought you guys were squirrels,” I joked.
“We only got rid of yours when we moved,” Dad told us much to the delight of my rear seat companions.

© Maddy Bell 30.03.2019