Difference between revisions of "2010-11-10 54 10"
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Luckily, my infinite loop detector fired its alarm, and I decided to try the local book store. After the flamboyant store owner had rudely dealt with who appeared to be a mentally handicapped regular visitor, he looked up train connection for me. He wrote three of them down, and I decided to memorize one more, because I had no idea when I would be able to get back. | Luckily, my infinite loop detector fired its alarm, and I decided to try the local book store. After the flamboyant store owner had rudely dealt with who appeared to be a mentally handicapped regular visitor, he looked up train connection for me. He wrote three of them down, and I decided to memorize one more, because I had no idea when I would be able to get back. | ||
| + | Nearing the hash, I was relieved to see that it was indeed in the middle of nowhere and not on someone's property. I could hear automatic weapons' fire from a nearby military training ground, which attributed some more the sentiment that under no cirucumstances would I ever want to live there. Coming even closer to the hash, though, I saw there was a dogs' school very close which I hadn't seen before, so I was anxious about the possibility of an Ambassador achievement, but also about the possibility of getting my ass bitten off. | ||
| + | The hash, however, did turn out to be on the field next to the school. I was again relieved, and again shocked when I saw the state it was in: ''Muddy'' doesn't even begin to describe it. I took a few cautious steps, went back to the road and pondered my situation. I was also in a hurry, lest the wary townspeople decide to call the police about the person in the field. I decided I had come too far to go back and took the plunge. | ||
| + | |||
| + | I sank into the mud up up to my ankles, which was problematic because my ''shoes'' hardly went up to my ankles. Trying to pause on less muddy spots, which were hard to make out, I hurried across the field as well as I could while still aiming for the hash. Once there, I took my two on-site photos and literally ''ran'' back, trying to be so fast as to not sink in. I had moderate success, but I was happy when I got back to the road and had reached the hash. | ||
| + | |||
| + | Scraping the worst of the mud off my shoes, I went off. I wanted to visit an organic farm food store I knew was somewhere near, and when I passed an elderly man's house, I asked him for directions. He didn't know what store I was talking about, but looking at the patches and buttons on my old army jacket, he must have thought me a hippie or something, and went off on a five-minute tangent about how organic farming is uneconomic and doomed to fail, even though it may be ideologically pleasing. I thanked him for the advice and went on my way. | ||
| + | |||
| + | I had half an hour left for about 2.5 km to the train station, when the train I had remembered should leave. I did pass the store and got some food for supper, then hurried back to the train station. I barely made it in time, sweating beside the 10° C climate. And the it turned out... I had remembered the train connection wrong! There was no train at that time, and in fact, not for another hour and a half. | ||
| + | |||
| + | [[File:2010-11-10 54 10--automat.jpg|180px|thumb|right|Poetry, condoms and more!]] Frustrated, I went back downtown, where I found a nice little bakery I could sit down, have a coffee and do some more writing. After that and a nice chat with the ladies working there, I headed back to the train station. On the toilet there, I saw something not uncommon for a men's room in Germany, but here it was taking it a step further: It was a condom dispenser also featuring miniature vibrating devices and portable artificial female genitalia. Best of all, though, were little poems from the company making the machine. Look at the photograph: In the upper left corner you can see three little verses about "Lübke", the name of the company. The upper one goes: | ||
| + | |||
| + | ''Without Lübke—without love''<br> | ||
| + | ''life would be much too bland'' | ||
| + | |||
| + | The middle one, written in a circle, reads: | ||
| + | |||
| + | ''The word goes round from mouth to mouth''<br> | ||
| + | ''Lübke keeps the population healthy'' | ||
| + | |||
| + | And finally, my favorite one below that: | ||
| + | |||
| + | ''Had he used a condom,''<br> | ||
| + | ''that wouldn't have happened.'' | ||
| + | |||
| + | So, I finally got on the train back home, had an uneventful and productive ride and some very tasty fried potatoes for supper. A worthy hash! | ||
== Photos == | == Photos == | ||
Revision as of 10:05, 11 November 2010
| Wed 10 Nov 2010 in 54,10: 54.2991275, 10.9263941 geohashing.info google osm bing/os kml crox |
Location
On a very, very (VERY!) muddy field between the small town of Oldenburg in Holstein and the little village of Kremsdorf.
Participants
Planning
Finding out how much the train ride was going to cost was a major pain the in back. The "simple and easy" fare system encompassing all trains and buses in the entire state turns out to be a bloated monster tripping over its own feet, much like LDAP. It took me half an hour online and a five-minute phone call I understood most of to finally know the cost of my trip.
Apart from that, my planning was horrible with respect to the shoes I was wearing. I do own heavy boots, but having worn them all weekend, I guess I was happy for a change. And as it turned out, of course, what I would have needed were the heavy boots!
Expedition
I wanted to use the train ride to do some writing, of which I have a lot to do these days. That went well, and I managed to write about 2.500 words that day.
After leaving the train station, I realized I had forgotten to check when trains would go back. So I followed the signs to the tourist information, which was in the town hall, and... vacant. A sign informed me that nobody was there for the moment, but that I should try the town library, so after waiting a minute and looking at historical documents about what appeared to be a men's choir founded hundreds of years ago, I headed for the library. The library, by the way, was in the same building as the gymnasium, and that looked about as charming as a nuclear bunker. On the library door, I was informed that the tourist information wasn't working on weekdays, and that I should try the town hall.
Luckily, my infinite loop detector fired its alarm, and I decided to try the local book store. After the flamboyant store owner had rudely dealt with who appeared to be a mentally handicapped regular visitor, he looked up train connection for me. He wrote three of them down, and I decided to memorize one more, because I had no idea when I would be able to get back.
Nearing the hash, I was relieved to see that it was indeed in the middle of nowhere and not on someone's property. I could hear automatic weapons' fire from a nearby military training ground, which attributed some more the sentiment that under no cirucumstances would I ever want to live there. Coming even closer to the hash, though, I saw there was a dogs' school very close which I hadn't seen before, so I was anxious about the possibility of an Ambassador achievement, but also about the possibility of getting my ass bitten off.
The hash, however, did turn out to be on the field next to the school. I was again relieved, and again shocked when I saw the state it was in: Muddy doesn't even begin to describe it. I took a few cautious steps, went back to the road and pondered my situation. I was also in a hurry, lest the wary townspeople decide to call the police about the person in the field. I decided I had come too far to go back and took the plunge.
I sank into the mud up up to my ankles, which was problematic because my shoes hardly went up to my ankles. Trying to pause on less muddy spots, which were hard to make out, I hurried across the field as well as I could while still aiming for the hash. Once there, I took my two on-site photos and literally ran back, trying to be so fast as to not sink in. I had moderate success, but I was happy when I got back to the road and had reached the hash.
Scraping the worst of the mud off my shoes, I went off. I wanted to visit an organic farm food store I knew was somewhere near, and when I passed an elderly man's house, I asked him for directions. He didn't know what store I was talking about, but looking at the patches and buttons on my old army jacket, he must have thought me a hippie or something, and went off on a five-minute tangent about how organic farming is uneconomic and doomed to fail, even though it may be ideologically pleasing. I thanked him for the advice and went on my way.
I had half an hour left for about 2.5 km to the train station, when the train I had remembered should leave. I did pass the store and got some food for supper, then hurried back to the train station. I barely made it in time, sweating beside the 10° C climate. And the it turned out... I had remembered the train connection wrong! There was no train at that time, and in fact, not for another hour and a half.
Frustrated, I went back downtown, where I found a nice little bakery I could sit down, have a coffee and do some more writing. After that and a nice chat with the ladies working there, I headed back to the train station. On the toilet there, I saw something not uncommon for a men's room in Germany, but here it was taking it a step further: It was a condom dispenser also featuring miniature vibrating devices and portable artificial female genitalia. Best of all, though, were little poems from the company making the machine. Look at the photograph: In the upper left corner you can see three little verses about "Lübke", the name of the company. The upper one goes:
Without Lübke—without love
life would be much too bland
The middle one, written in a circle, reads:
The word goes round from mouth to mouth
Lübke keeps the population healthy
And finally, my favorite one below that:
Had he used a condom,
that wouldn't have happened.
So, I finally got on the train back home, had an uneventful and productive ride and some very tasty fried potatoes for supper. A worthy hash!
Photos
My train ticket in front of the nothing that is the state of Schleswig-Holstein.
Amusingly, the train had the same name as the town I got off in.
Doing some writing on the train.
In downtown Oldenburg, hell is raised!
10 GOTO 20
20 GOTO 10
The library/gymnasium.
You are leaving Nothing. Up ahead: Nothing.
Where the hash almost was: A dogs' school.
The hash from about 60 meters off.
Proof!
Sometimes one sign just doesn't do it...
Achievements
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mtu earned the Land geohash achievement
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mtu earned the Public transport geohash achievement
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mtu achieved level 2 of the Minesweeper Geohash achievement
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