Translated with Deepl
The water splashes against the stone beach, where it meets the boats it sounds a little different, sharper. In the background the omnipresent roar - only here it is not the roar of thousands of cars, so familiar to me, here it is the roar of the waterfall in the distance. The rain that begins while I am standing in the lake sounds like thousands of small pebbles. The day ends much like it began.
In the morning, I also jump into the lake first thing. Naked, in the hope that I am far enough away from the hut. Unfortunately, I am not, and I have to dive under the water quickly once, but then I am left alone. It’s really cold, and it wakes me up nicely.
After breakfast, I take a trip around the lake in a canoe. If they are provided free of charge with the hut, anything else would be a shame. I’m not very good at it, I need someone to paddle on the other side. I still enjoy it very much and it’s exactly the right thing for me.
I feel at home in this landscape. It is mountainous or hilly, with many forest paths. There are masses of wild strawberries along the edge of the path, and I only need to stop briefly to fill my hands with them. I meet very few people, except when I pass through a town in between. I quickly leave there.
The only company I have is a variety of (wild) animals. Sheep are a common obstacle on the path. A baby fox stares at me as I drive past. At lunchtime, I hear a gentle thud, turn my head and look at a cow moose. She stares back. She fits so well into the landscape, similar in colour to the moss-covered stones and the sky. She radiates a similar robustness and calmness as her surroundings. Quite different from me, who stands out with my colourful selection of high-tech outdoor clothing, in which I still freeze.
In the evening I find another DNT hut, which unfortunately costs a whole €15 – still very fair, but I had briefly hoped that I could get by with €5 huts. This time I’m alone there. That’s why nobody sees my slapstick performance when I try to climb out of the water. The moss-covered stones are so slippery that I keep slipping backwards into the water. I eventually manage to get out on all fours.
I have just enough reception to take a call from a friend, Ruth. We chat for a long time, so familiar. We spin ideas about how we can balance out our different cycling ambitions in future adventures together - straps? Trailers? At least I’m not alone tonight.
The only thing that worries me tonight is that I scalded my fingers when I was draining the pasta. I hope that they will be fit for cycling tomorrow again thanks to cooling.
