14) From a city tour let's change saddle: Quad vs Icelandic Horse
- O Peregrino
- May 5, 2024
- 6 min read
Berlin Wall: The Berlin Wall, which divided East and West Berlin from 1961 to 1989, was a significant symbol of the Cold War. Its fall in 1989 marked the beginning of the end of the Cold War and led to German reunification.
The Hanseatic City of Stade, a gem nestled in Lower Saxony, whispers tales of its storied past along cobbled streets and beneath gabled roofs. With roots reaching back to the 9th century, this city has seen the ebb and flow of history, from its time as a bustling trade hub in the Hanseatic League to its quiet elegance today. Its harbor, once filled with the clamor of merchant ships, now serenely reflects the sky, lined with charming half-timbered houses that stand as sentinels of time.
Jürgen, his son Huayna, and the couple Maika and Klaus wandered through this enchanting tableau, their steps echoing the footfalls of centuries past. As they strolled along the tranquil canals, the golden light of the setting sun bathed the city in a warm, ethereal glow. The scent of blooming flowers from the gardens mingled with the salty tang of the Elbe River, creating a symphony of senses that felt almost magical.
They found themselves in the heart of the old town, where the St. Cosmae et Damiani Church rose majestically, its spire piercing the heavens. The church's ancient stones seemed to hum with the prayers and hopes of generations. Jürgen, with a gentle hand on Huayna's shoulder, shared stories of the city's past, his voice filled with reverence and wonder. Huayna's eyes sparkled with curiosity, absorbing every word as if they were precious gems.
Maika and Klaus walked hand in hand, their fingers intertwined as they explored the charming alleyways. The air was filled with the melody of laughter and the soft murmur of water flowing through the canals. They paused at a quaint café, its façade adorned with vibrant flowers, and shared a moment of quiet intimacy over cups of rich, aromatic coffee. The world outside seemed to pause, allowing them to revel in their love, untouched by time.
As twilight descended, the city's lanterns flickered to life, casting a gentle, golden glow upon the streets. The group made their way to the harbor, where the reflections of the illuminated buildings danced upon the water's surface like a shimmering tapestry. They stood together, embraced by the city's timeless beauty, feeling a deep connection not only to each other but to the very soul of Stade itself.
In this ancient city, where history and romance intertwined, Jürgen, Huayna, Maika, and Klaus found themselves wrapped in a moment that felt both eternal and ephemeral. Stade had opened its heart to them, and in return, they left a piece of theirs behind, forever etched into the fabric of this Hanseatic haven.
Riding an Icelandic horse is like stepping into a timeless, ethereal romance with nature itself. As you mount the sturdy yet graceful creature, you feel an immediate connection, as if this noble steed has been waiting for you through ages. The moment you take your first steps together, the world around you transforms. The rhythmic beat of the horse’s tölt, that unique, smooth gait, feels like a dance, a waltz that carries you effortlessly like over the rugged Icelandic landscape.
The wind whispers sweet nothings in your ear, carrying the scent of wildflowers and the salty tang of the distant sea. Your horse, with its flowing mane and bright, intelligent eyes, seems to understand your very thoughts, responding to your slightest touch. As you ride, you are enveloped by the majesty of nature – seems returned to Iceland with towering waterfalls cascading down ancient cliffs, rolling green hills dotted with sheep, and the endless horizon where the sky meets the sea in a tender embrace.
Every stride brings a new sense of freedom and exhilaration, a feeling of being alive in the purest form. The bond between you and the Icelandic horse deepens with each passing moment, a silent, unspoken understanding that you are part of something greater, something timeless. Together, you and your steed become one with the land, sharing a love that transcends words, a romance written in the very fabric of the earth and sky.
Huayna, at 29, felt a rush of anticipation as he straddled the quad bike for the first time. The rugged terrain stretched before him like an uncharted path, calling to the wild spirit within. The engine roared to life beneath him, its vibrations coursing through his body like a powerful heartbeat syncing with his own. As he twisted the throttle, the world around him blurred, the wind kissing his face with a fierce tenderness that sent shivers down his spine.
The quad surged forward, each bump in the trail an exhilarating jolt that brought him closer to the edge of the unknown. The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the landscape, painting everything in shades of gold and amber. With every twist and turn, Huayna felt a deep connection to the earth beneath him, as if he were dancing with the very soul of the mountain.
His heart raced not just from the thrill of speed, but from the sheer freedom that enveloped him. The scent of pine and fresh earth filled his lungs, mingling with the sharp tang of adventure. In that moment, Huayna was more alive than ever, his spirit soaring with the quad as it tore through the wilderness, carrying him toward a horizon filled with endless possibilities.
Three separate stories, put together like a colorful children's puzzle, create a clear picture. The sad end of our trip to the north. Everything has an end, only the sausage has two - an almost poetic German expression. In every end lies a new beginning and behind every beginning a new adventure awaits...
But before we leave we want to shoot a Hollywood scene: Klaus riding on his proud thoroughbred Icelandic stallion. To do this we go to the riding track, Huayna directs the now well-tamed quad and Jürgen the smartphone, Maika, the die-hard camerawoman, operates the second smartphone and the first aid kit. Not for Klaus, who is a confident rider, but for the two wannabe filmmakers coming from Brazil...
Stop!!! But the new day, which awoke from its light slumber, brought with it something unexpected and surprising: a silent challenge where geographical conflicts of conscience made the situation a little more confusing than it already was. Hashtag tick; hashtag Huayna's arm; Klaus (morge), who comes from southern Germany, was now trying with all his patience and a sharp needle to pick a northern German tick (moin!) out of a Brazilian arm (bom dia). After minutes that had flown by - it could have been hours - despite Klaus's endless patience and Huayna's stoic bravery, the tick, although already somewhat dismembered, remained firmly attached to the ball, or rather in the delicious upper arm. Fortunately for everyone except the tick, Maika, a Specialist pharmacist, arrived with a tick-killing ointment. After we convinced Huayna not to smear the fragrant ointment on his linseed bread, but on his arm, directly over the tick, the case was closed for the first time and now we were finally off to Stade...
Let's watch the video in full screen here!
A brief review of Article 11: "Before we start the eight-hour drive of 800 km to the north, we want to talk about a simplified cliché image of Germans that is very common: Lederhosen, sauerkraut and Oktoberfest. All wrong? Not at all - all right, but only in Bavaria. The rest of Germany is different, sometimes very different. That's why we're going to the north, where people live in tree houses, eat pigs' ears and shoe soles and ride Icelandic horses."
As a loyal, educated and avid reader of our fascinating blog, you have now learned the basics about tree houses and Icelandic horses. We will only briefly touch on the pigs' ears and shoe soles.
Pig's ears - also called pig's ears or elephant's ears - are a small sweet pastry made from puff pastry. In France, the popular tea biscuits are also known as Palmiers or Cœurs de France. The origin of the name pig's ear is not clearly established. It is assumed that the shape of the pastry is reminiscent of the auricle of pigs.
Shoe sole pastries are an almost forgotten classic. With crispy puff pastry and a coffee cream filling, they are simply irresistibly delicious! This delicious little pastry used to be available in many bakeries: shoe soles, which are two long rolled out pieces of dough with lots of sugar and filled with a wonderful cream inside. Unfortunately, you rarely find them these days, perhaps because they are not exactly considered a slimming product.
Published: 15/04/2025
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