Trip to Rostock

(Photos of the diary entry can be found at the end of the text).

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Today we want to leave Hanover for Rostock. This means that the journey will finally begin. After all the limitations of the past few months, it’s a feeling that can hardly be described. For people like us, who have been able to discover and travel the world almost unhindered in recent decades, setting off for another country means a lot, because being on the road has been our purpose in life, our elixir of life. During our travels, we repeatedly had to spend long periods of time unintentionally in a wide variety of places and locations. We spent three months in a Vietnamese rice paddy valley because I had injured myself there and we were only able to continue when my broken shoulder joint allowed it. In China, we sometimes had to stay in a small hotel room for weeks waiting for important spare parts. In Australia’s great sandy desert, we were forced to stay in a desert camp for 40 days because one of our camels fell ill with pneumonia. We spent 7 months in our yurt and tipi in the Mongolian taiga, where we experienced a winter with the last reindeer nomads. So there were always unplanned long stays in our travel and expedition life. None of this was and is a problem for us, and yet the coronavirus pandemic was and is a different, unmanageable challenge that makes planning and thinking ahead difficult or even impossible. “Will it even be possible to travel again in the future?” I was occasionally struck by an unpleasant thought. “What do we do if the worst comes to the worst and such a scenario becomes reality?” I pondered further.

When the Norwegians opened their border, there was no stopping us and now, after our medical training with Martin, we are really off. “Yay!” I cheer again, start the Terra’s engine, put it into first gear and our expedition vehicle rolls off. “There’s an LPG filling station two kilometers away where we can fill up with gas,” says Tanja, who has just fed Google with the question of where to find such a filling station nearby. Now that our gas tank, which we use for cooking and heating, is full again, we are looking for a post office. As is so often the case, we packed too much in our euphoria, which is why we went through our equipment again to send home everything that wasn’t really necessary. At the post office, I find out that there are no large boxes. “You need to go to a DIY store. You can buy moving boxes there,” advises the saleswoman. On the way back to our mobile on wheels, I meet a woman unpacking boxes and stacking books on a small wall next to the sidewalk. “Looks like they’re moving? Could you spare a box like that?” I ask politely. “Of course I’m getting rid of ballast anyway. I’m giving away 400 books. They no longer fit in our new apartment. Wait, I’ll get you a better box,” she says and disappears into the house. Minutes later, she hands me a perfectly fitting box. “You’re an angel,” I thank him. “Wouldn’t you like to take a book with you? I’m sure there’s something for your trip,” she offers, because I had briefly told her about Norway. In fact, in keeping with the far north, I find a bestselling novel about the Vikings. “I’m happy when my books find a good, new home. You know, I’m very attached to them. Books are my world, but if there’s not enough space, you have to let go of things you’ve grown fond of. Ultimately, these are just materialistic attachments.” “You’re right about that. I’ll read the book and think about them,” I reply, saying goodbye.

“I’ve met you before in Berlin,” a woman says to us in a friendly manner as I tape up the box I’ve just received with packing tape on the sidewalk in front of our Terra Love a few minutes later. “In Berlin?” I ask, thinking about the last time we were in the capital. “You gave a lecture there about 10 years ago,” she explains. “Oh, that could be,” we reply. “You absolutely have to stop by my swap store. A store like this is unique in Germany. It’s even supported by the government. There are great things there. Surely you still need something for your big trip?” “Hm, we’re actually in the process of slimming down,” Tanja replies. “Anyway, please drop by my place. It’s only a hundred meters down the road. Do you see? There on the corner,” she says, pointing to a crossroads. “Okay, when we get the package on its way, we’ll pay you a quick visit.”

“Oh, it’s great to welcome you to our swap store,” says Gil, the project manager of www.tauschtreff.com, as we enter the store a quarter of an hour after our meeting. Gil explains how the system works. “People drop off things they no longer need. They get points for this. They can then use these points to buy things from us. In other words, they drop something off and get what they want in return. “Would you like a coffee?” asks Gil after a while. “Thanks, we want to go to Rostock today,” we reply and say goodbye.

We reach the university and Hanseatic city of Rostock on the Baltic Sea in the early evening. Our Terra rolls into the largest German cruise port, where not a single cruise ship can be seen because of Corona. We park next to some trucks and head for the ferry terminal. Because we didn’t want to be pressed for time, we didn’t pre-book a ferry, but we’re sure we’ll get a crossing to Sweden. In fact, we get a passage for tomorrow morning at 8:00 a.m. for € 236. “Can our dog leave the vehicle?” asks Tanja, because we have heard that dogs are not allowed to run around on board. “Of course you can take your dog with you. But they must wear a muzzle. There is even a dog toilet on deck 8,” explains the TT-Line employee.

Where do you think we should park tonight?” asks Tanja, pointing to the numerous, smelly, noisy trucks running their heavy diesel engines to power the air conditioning in the drivers’ cabins. “Hm,” I think and cringe as one of the monster-sized cranes loads a metal construction onto a container ship with a deafening roar. “Let’s drive around a bit. We’re sure to find a quieter spot,” I say confidently. Just a little later, we discover a wild lawn and a few trees behind an administration building. As no one is working on Saturday evening, we have a good chance of spending the night here undisturbed…