Pedalos and Pirlos

 

A terrifying, uphill car journey before paragliding over the still lake waters and feeling like a bird -albeit a slightly scared one! -numerous jaunts out on pedalos at Margy Beach, aperitivos at all times of the day with a pirlo (spritz), celebratory barbecues, a hike up to the impressive remains of the Gleno Dam, failing miserably at taking underwater photos, coffees on balconies, a lovely new sunhat, night-time chats and layers of suncream…

Music: Celluloid Jam -Fire

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Berlin Monthiversary

My monthiversary has come and gone. It has been a genuine whirlwind of a start to Berlin, so much so that  the idea of an evening at home, tucked up in bed, with a cup of tea, catching up on one of my Danish crime dramas is exceptionally appealing. But social needs must.

Within the whirlwind of events, supermarket shopping has hit me the most. Maybe I had adapted too much to home comforts, where the magic Scottish fridge re-filled itself and I hardly ever set foot in a supermarket, or maybe it’s all just a part of acclimatisation, but I really am untalented at food shopping in Berlin.

I’ve never been a good food shopper. After ‘a weekly massage’, ‘hiring a personal food shopper’ would be high up on my list of ‘Things I will do when I am rich’. I go, I buy things which take my fancy, spur of the moment purchases, and then, undoubtedly, forget the two things I specifically set out for. I return with a selection of products, yet never enough ingredients to make a proper meal.

The problem I have with Berlin is that there is too much choice! For example, I set out to buy some oats. A simple enough task, I hear you all cry. But alas, it is not. There are Biological Oats (I know right, what?), Fresh Crunchy Oats, Free-range Oats, Finely ground ones, Pre-cooked and boiled oats, Ready-to-make-porridge oats, and so on and so forth. It took me half an hour to sift through them all, and I’m pretty sure I still ended up buying something similar to biological oats, which, as far as I am concerned, cannot exist. They are oats, not chickens. 

As for the rest of the month, I’ll briefly fill you in on some of my escapades. 

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