3:30am up and off to Flughafen Schönefeld, cheap easyJet and exit row seat for 3 hours to Malaga, taxi pickup to Marbella and further on to Puerto Banùs, 3 hours being scanned and having consultations while squalls blow in and beat the mountains behind the town into a dark haze, back to Marbella for a museum, because of course I do, fall asleep in an apartment by the marina early-evening, up again in the darkness for another pickup back to the airport, another flight and exit row seat, and Berlin’s loveable bus and U-Bahn home, 36 hours later. Yes, I did go for a ride after. Yes, that is the Matterhorn almost dead centre, flying over the border of Switzerland and Italy.
My fam and sisters know what I was doing in Puerto Banùs yesterday.
Riding the afternoon away with Gala through Treptower Park and Spreepark, alongside the Spree, stopping for Flammkuchen and dozing in the sun.
Riding with Gala in meandering paths around the best city park, October turning on a solid (global warming) string of low-20’s sunny days, crescent moon in orbit on the burnt twilight horizon.
Autumn morning at Tempelhofer Feld.
I saw a DeLorean DMC-12 in Mitte, near Bodemuseum today. All brushed stainless steel and fat typography on its arse. Looks way more serious in real life than photos, kinda like when I first saw an F40. That would be my German Whip of all time. Forgot phone though. Instead, here’s a view out my window. I took the day off. Two lunches, several episodes of The Man in the High Castle (turned the volume way down when they went on a “Sieg Heil” bender; really, really uncomfortable viewing in Berlin in 2018), much chatting with Gala (who was doing similar), no riding, no work, no ticking off shite on a list, just having a quiet, sunny and warm, lazy autumn day in my apartment.
Autumn wander with Charlotte through parts of southern Neukölln I’ve never been to before. Körnerpark, former 19th century gravel pit pretending to be 17th century Schlossgarten, and a Migration Period grave of a horse rider. Berlin, still turning it on like a hard lover.
So. Very. Metal.
Watching Mat Hayman riding and winning Paris–Roubaix in 2016 was probably the moment I truly fell in love with the Spring Classics, pavé, dust, mud, cobbles, suffering, and went from cyclocross to a different kind of riding. Really one of my favourite riders in the peloton, and my favourite team.
A little on the tight side, stove and fridge busted, took most of a week to clean and do repairs, but it has a balcony, faces south-east, windows everywhere, gets the sun till early-afternoon, is cheap almost in the way Berlin used to be. Home for now.