Autumn has officially started in Hamburg. The remaining leaves are tinged with a beautiful orange and burgundy speckled the ones that already have succumbed to gravity settle creaking like a carpet on the way I walk every morning. A perfume and dry cardboard overwhelmingly dominated by a few days and it raises even more insistent on a clear day following the rain.
A further confirmation of all that is now before midday temperature struggling to reach the two digits, reaching the time that I leave the house to go to work on a nice little 8.
So I'm already resigned to the boot, the scarf is not only decorative and heavier than the jacket because of the belly I no longer connect.
The other day a colleague at the entrance of the intersection.
like mine, so also his Guten Morgen out of the mouth accompanied by a whitish smoke condensate vanishing.
There is only one difference between us: as my clothing is blatantly fall, he, however, is still at work with a simple shirt and holds a black leather jacket with rolled up under one arm.
Stephan, but that's a bit 'chilly with only the shirt - I dare to ask for a lift?
Eh - he says - but we Germans are of a different temperament, you should know by now (irony not to be underestimated).
course - I say - sorry, I keep forgetting, perhaps because I still can not understand what the hell is made up of your blood.
Because in the end is that it is in my blood, the secret is all there. Hemoglobins
fed to the sound of margarine, white blood cells as loads Oktoberfest Bavarian sausages, platelets injected Zigeuner sauce and ketchup.
And then a flash ....
I do not remember what year it seems to me the beginning nineties. In any case very tender age, maximum 10 years.
holidays in Normandy and Brittany, my family, once a wolf. What are called smart holidays. Why to avoid mass tourism, there is nothing more brilliant that go to those places from which all escape in August all'agognante looking for the sun of the south.
We do not.
One day I tell my mom: "Listen, I'm going to bathe in the pool." She said, 'Are you crazy, look what it gets cold, I catch a damn. "
Then I ask, pointing to the window overlooking the courtyard and then the pool and three swimmers whitish: "Why, then, if it cold they make the bathroom? "- application exposed with all the innocence of which I was still able.
My mom looks and scientific explanation that will mark me for life comes, "but Mari, but they are German."
Here is a Milanese girl who form an image at the top of the very precise and indelible Teutonic people, the ones who make the bathroom even if it's cold. Image
more than confirmed in the various weekend Ligurian late September, when everyone keeps clothes looking at the sea and to point the finger at the waves while a few individuals Biotti-white mozzarella thrown away. Their splash was accompanied by several "are crazy" to bystanders and a thought logico nella mia mente “ma loro sono tedeschi”.
Loro possono, loro resistono.
Immagine mai più smentita, nemmeno 15 anni dopo sul baltico, la prima volta. Che già solo il nome, baltico, fa venire freddo. L’acqua è talmente gelata che solo pucciare lo spigolo dell’unghia del piede mi provoca una convulsione di ghiaccio. Potrei quasi giurare di essere diventata blu per un istante.
Ma loro no, si buttano come foche, senza pensarci, senza quel minimo di freno impercettibile che per una frazione di secondo ti fa fare brrrrr anche a ferragosto sulla riviera adriatica.
Loro sono tedeschi. Loro nuotano nel baltico.
Io sono quella che resta a guardarli dalla riva scuotendo la testa e l’indice standing references to "Come on, komm rein" and vowing that next year I'll throw my baby ... I also challenge myself and I keep putting it off.
"Eine Pfeife bist du, a Seghino" ... But, my dear friends from beyond the cabbage, Stephan expensive, so again next summer, when I shall see you suffer like animals to the slaughterhouse to the shocking temperature of less than 32 degrees!
A further confirmation of all that is now before midday temperature struggling to reach the two digits, reaching the time that I leave the house to go to work on a nice little 8.
So I'm already resigned to the boot, the scarf is not only decorative and heavier than the jacket because of the belly I no longer connect.
The other day a colleague at the entrance of the intersection.
like mine, so also his Guten Morgen out of the mouth accompanied by a whitish smoke condensate vanishing.
There is only one difference between us: as my clothing is blatantly fall, he, however, is still at work with a simple shirt and holds a black leather jacket with rolled up under one arm.
Stephan, but that's a bit 'chilly with only the shirt - I dare to ask for a lift?
Eh - he says - but we Germans are of a different temperament, you should know by now (irony not to be underestimated).
course - I say - sorry, I keep forgetting, perhaps because I still can not understand what the hell is made up of your blood.
Because in the end is that it is in my blood, the secret is all there. Hemoglobins
fed to the sound of margarine, white blood cells as loads Oktoberfest Bavarian sausages, platelets injected Zigeuner sauce and ketchup.
And then a flash ....
I do not remember what year it seems to me the beginning nineties. In any case very tender age, maximum 10 years.
holidays in Normandy and Brittany, my family, once a wolf. What are called smart holidays. Why to avoid mass tourism, there is nothing more brilliant that go to those places from which all escape in August all'agognante looking for the sun of the south.
We do not.
One day I tell my mom: "Listen, I'm going to bathe in the pool." She said, 'Are you crazy, look what it gets cold, I catch a damn. "
Then I ask, pointing to the window overlooking the courtyard and then the pool and three swimmers whitish: "Why, then, if it cold they make the bathroom? "- application exposed with all the innocence of which I was still able.
My mom looks and scientific explanation that will mark me for life comes, "but Mari, but they are German."
Here is a Milanese girl who form an image at the top of the very precise and indelible Teutonic people, the ones who make the bathroom even if it's cold. Image
more than confirmed in the various weekend Ligurian late September, when everyone keeps clothes looking at the sea and to point the finger at the waves while a few individuals Biotti-white mozzarella thrown away. Their splash was accompanied by several "are crazy" to bystanders and a thought logico nella mia mente “ma loro sono tedeschi”.
Loro possono, loro resistono.
Immagine mai più smentita, nemmeno 15 anni dopo sul baltico, la prima volta. Che già solo il nome, baltico, fa venire freddo. L’acqua è talmente gelata che solo pucciare lo spigolo dell’unghia del piede mi provoca una convulsione di ghiaccio. Potrei quasi giurare di essere diventata blu per un istante.
Ma loro no, si buttano come foche, senza pensarci, senza quel minimo di freno impercettibile che per una frazione di secondo ti fa fare brrrrr anche a ferragosto sulla riviera adriatica.
Loro sono tedeschi. Loro nuotano nel baltico.
Io sono quella che resta a guardarli dalla riva scuotendo la testa e l’indice standing references to "Come on, komm rein" and vowing that next year I'll throw my baby ... I also challenge myself and I keep putting it off.
"Eine Pfeife bist du, a Seghino" ... But, my dear friends from beyond the cabbage, Stephan expensive, so again next summer, when I shall see you suffer like animals to the slaughterhouse to the shocking temperature of less than 32 degrees!
