WAVE 2013 : DAY 2

After a night of searching for wifi in the room while attempting to write this and yesterday's blog my eyes packed it in and closed shop leaving me in a state of bewilderment. They refused to open and after about three and half hours sleep they suddenly popped open at the sound of my alarm clock chirruping their cricketly sound. We had to leave at 07:40 for the next stop on our journey for the day was to be filled with a number of destinations. The first on the agenda was a trip of 126 kilometers to

Güssing which kept us guessing as to the how far, how many bars of energy to how many kilometers and the eventual charge at a gas station where with only 8 minutes left we were told we couldn't charge. After explaining what we were doing and why the young lady decided all was good and we could finish. Shortly after that we were on our way and arrived in Güssing where all cars were charged and lunch was served.

Our next stop would be another first for me but not for Gordon who is seriously experienced in the automotive world of four firm wheels on a Tarmac whizzing by beneath eager tires. We hit the starting line, waited that chilling moment before take off and off we went  biting into the asphalt we danced thought the slalom and cut a slice of cake through the first big turn. We bore down like a hot knife through butter then took a couple of curves out of left field and headed straight for the finish line. The whole time I was navigating and it all took only 56.5 seconds, quicker then one of the Teslas and the Twike. This was especially cool since I always considered myself a nagivator and as it turns out I am a navigator. Even more impressive I can actually look down, write, read and do the numbers without feeling like I am going toss my cookies. It would in the long term be a pity to lose all those cookies. We hung about and watched as the other teams took their turns and then it was time to move onto the next thing on the agenda, namely wash the car, write the blog, and get to the Deutschlandsberg, our hotel/hostel for the night. The cars would be parked down the hill within an enclosed area amongst trees with a stream pulsating over the rocks. Team Strombolli was having a problem and out of curiosity I went to have a look and bent over the hood. It seemed there was a problem with a fuse that had blown, a very little tiny fuse and their car would not load or move or anything. The tool department was suffering a dire lack of toolage and the many rough hands in the arena were rather cacophonous in their engagement. I began to get a picture of the problem and then thought, hey, Gordon might have a solution. So I gave him a shout and he came, bent over, peered around, asked questions and said, "Yeah, I can do that" and walked to our car and began digging around. I walked after him,was handed a SEC LED any-where light and a bag of boiled English sweets to offer to the Strombolli team and the Brusa man. Gordon followed with a handful of toolish goodies including the nord lock bottle openers with their respective wing nuts. Yes, wings have nuts which means that nuts fly and this could get worse before it gets better. The anatomical lesson over, between Gordon and a couple of good pointers from yours truly the problem was quickly solved and all cheered. This didn't help the blog placement much but Team Strombolli could now continue with the WAVE and that was awesomeness quantified!!!! Gordon and I headed for the hotel/hostel which wasn't hostile at all and got online to blog the blog as blogs want. The wifi dropped us like a rock, we logged on again, the wifi took a leave of absence, we logged on again, the wifi arrogantly took off for a quieter field of work leaving us high and dry and bewildered. Now we were stuck and decided at 02:30 a.m. to throw in the proverbial towel which the wifi probably wanted in the first place so it could take a shower after a long day at the office in cyberspace.

WAVE 2013 DAY 1

If one were to judge the facade of the Hotel Steinberger from the website one is given the impression of a slick 5 star establishment set into the woods. Upon arrival the story changes and once you get inside you are time warped back to the 70's or even earlier. We had to leave this morning at precise times which was alright were it not for the fact that once we left the premises after the shortest interview on the planet, our gps went into conniptions and began spinning like a dervish lost inside the vortex of insanity. Being right in the pocket we followed the instructions to a point and then we asked a real walking talking human being who steered us into the right direction and we were off and driving to Baden. With one short stop, at Phoenix Contacts, for a refreshing bubbling glass of water, a coffee fit for road warriors such as Gordon and I and a befitting Austrian pastry we continued to Baden and its casino.

 

The idea of entering a casino filled me with the fear of god since, as a a fourth grader in elementary school during a Texas hailstorm taking shelter under the desks I lost my lunch money in my very first and subsequently very last poker game. We all entered the casino as though going through customs, showing our passports and declaring nothing! There were drinks to be had and so we headed for the bar walking beneath a ceiling that looked as though it were covered in strangely shaped shingles in jaded gold looking like they might attack if one moved suspiciously. Numerous cameras perched in every conceivable inconceivable place spied in silent observance all who walked, drank, talked, walked and sat. This was a place of veritable loss of fundage and intimate insanity bent on the inevitable wreckage of the pockets you thought were deep and discovering their shallowness you leave with head bent and knees knocking. It was time to shake this Popsicle stand of depravity.

We left the building walking down the wide stone stairs and out into the open, into the fresh air, sun blazing and a granite globe gently bedded in a fountain spinning brush strokes of water in a fountain. Time for a restorative cup of coffee and then it was time to leave for Eisenstadt where Schlöss Eszterhazy is situated. This also happens to be the town of Jozef Haydn. The evening brought a wine festival with a true blue oompahpah band and more grilled chicken then you could possibly shake a stick at. Not exactly the thing for vegetabalarians such as myself and Andrea and Angela of Team 1. However where there is life there is hope and it turned out that one could order grilled cheese medallions etc. without feeling one iota of guilt for those medallions did not need to be pinned to ones chest.

 

The evening passed, the oompahpah band disseminated into the night together with the leftover chickens, fries, the worst of the würst, lederhosen and fruit of the vine leaving a trail of droplets leading us to the taxi back to our cars. We headed for the hotel and the hunt was on for a plug offering sustenance to our cars and by morning they would be sufficiently sefonsified.

 

 

WAVE 2013-Day-2/-1

Our arrival in Salzburg was one of sheer determination with a generous condimental topping of exhaustion. With eyes swinging crazily from the steering wheel in search of a comfortable place to collapse on the dashboard we pulled into the hotel and made a beeline for the front desk. Fear not, we parked the truck, trailer and its inimitable passenger, our sponsorifically stickered peugeot iON, before entering the building. The front desk announced that our reservation wasn't reserved but the truck and trailers' was and therefore had a place to stay for the duration of the WAVE. They kindly gave us an address of nearby hotel  and off we went on the quest of quests in quest of the nearly unquestable considering the condition we were in after a 25 hour drive.

                   click on the image to see full size

After finding the new front desk and before you could say Jack Robinson or Bobs yer uncle, which he is clearly not, we were installed in our respective rooms incapable of initiating a singular thought. Our stomachs took a dictatorial lead bringing us together over a boiling kettle and instant noodles swelling in sumptuous delight. Msg'd into insanity sleep beckoned and we were out for the count.

The following morning refreshed, revived and rebooted we discovered the breakfast room with an assortment of yoghurts, fresh sliced fruits, muesli, nano shredded wheat, eggs, toast, deli meats n cheese, pastries and coffee or tea. Plate and bowl were filled and a veritable wheel barrow of coffee was served by our wonderful hostess of the Frauenshuh Hotel aproned in true Austrian tradition. Definitely recommended!!!!!

My room with a view offers green fields beginning to give the term saturation a whole new definition. It has been raining, at times a mere drizzle, at other times a downpour and the mountains in the near distance could prove to be the Alpine Ararat of these modern times of climate change.  Hunger began coursing its way through all the DNA strands of our existential bodies and the need for sustenance grew urging us out the door and down the road to what initially seemed to be an Indian restaurant. It wasn't, it was Tibetan and to top it off, although a bit itchy at first sight presented us with food cooked in slow food fashion and it was absolutely phenomenal! Stuffed to the gills we headed back to the Frauenshuh observing the wild flowers and strawberries growing everywhere. Various types of moss grew on the rough sculpted barks of the trees we passed. Nothing to fear from the canid tree known as dogwood for he was not present nor rabid. So, when we returned to the front door of the hotel we were greeted by Mauritz a two year old Tom wet from the rain and not too happy about that fact. We ushered him in thinking he might lie down on his spot on the couch near the reception. Instead he followed us upstairs to provide feline entertainment. We were his heroes and he honored us with his capers, jumping, darting, chasing grabbing, nipping and nuzzling. Mauritz was one seriously happy camper and soon he proved his feline self by constantly being on the wrong side of the door. Being a cat person myself I understood his dilemma and played door person until I fell asleep nearly wrapped around the doorknob. Waking the following morning proved I had managed to extricate myself from this rather dangerous position leaving me with a taste of the big top.

We needed to get underway again. Our recovery complete we loaded up our trusty steed and began the trek to Eichgraben, just outside of Vienna. The distance would be a fraction of our first trek from Calais to Salzburg. As it turned out we slipstreamed down the highway looking at the rear ends of the trucks that provided us with new meaning to recharging batteries and long stops to accommodate the serious charge. I was initiated  into the realm of the plug hunter and taught by the king himself. I was initiated into the realm of the plug hunter and taught by the king himself, Gordon! The look of focused determination, eyes gleaming in electric anticipation followed by the bounce of celebratory glee upon a successful hunt. Car plugged in we sat down, ordered food, got online and settled in for the 2-3 hour wait for a full charge..

Eichgraben greeted us in silence as we arrived at the hotel where the  WAVE would officially begin the following day. We plugged in and looked for an open door. The front desk seemed to be missing or was possibly away for the duration, we had no idea and so after shifting things in the car we settled in for the night in the front seats wrapped in fleece and or sleeping bag with my feet neatly tucked into the glove compartment and Gordon tucked in behind and under the steering wheel. We had arrived and the morning would bring more news and a front desk with an awesome man with wonderful sense of humor. Tomorrow the WAVE, from that point on the world and the delivery of the Double Edged Sword Against Climate Change!

The WAVE was officially opened today with an introduction of all the teams taking part this year. Louis Palmer introduced each team who then stood before the packed room to give a succinct talk about the who and why they are taking part in this years WAVE. Before sitting down the team number stickers along with a goodie bag was handed over. There are a total of 40 teams, 4 assistance cars/vans armed with cables and chargers.

 The  games begin tomorrow morning.

WAVE 2013:DAY-4/-3

We, yours truly, Leora Rosner of the Growing Air Foundation and Gordon Foat of Green MotorSport are Team 20 of the WAVE 2013. An interesting number considering the numerological value of 20 or rather 2 which is cooperation, team work, a force to be reckoned with, we are the GMS/GAF team.

On the 23rd day of June we left Woking and began the first leg of the WAVE, namely, getting there. Our ferry would leave at 13:55 and we needed to be there, in Dover, half an hour before departure. Fear not, our timing was impeccable, our boarding was impeccable and our eventual sea legs returned impeccably insuring us a gait of wide legged locomotion to accommodate the rocking of the boat. Doors slid shut one by one on the parking decks as we climbed the numerous levels to one of the top decks. There we stepped outside with a notion of sipping coffee while watching the waves and the gulls wheeling in the breeze. All this motion, all these waves are mere previews of the WAVE on the near horizon. The wind blew my hair into a veritable birds nest but the gulls must have known they would not be allowed entrance into the ferries eatery leaving the top of my head with the empty nest syndrome. Gravity played with Gordon’s feet as the channel gently bounced our mode of transportation. Thoughts of jumping up as the ferry dipped enhancing the height of the leap of faith coursed through his veins but hunger drew us both nearer to the cafeteria and its’ goodies. Before we knew it we were docking as a group of gesticulating deaf bikers pulled on their boots, jackets, kidney belts and backpacks. They looked like pirates from bygone days as they headed for their particular parking deck. As Gordon and I walked down to our parking level I silently wondered where the parrot had gone.
We began driving making a heading towards Salzburg. The French highways brought us to the Belgian highway as night closed in on us. Seeking an alternative form of entertainment we commenced to count the potholes. Long ones, short ones, shallow and deep pot holes and quite a few that were simply cauldron holes, fit to make enough soup for an entire platoon.
As we deftly avoided the pots and pans that make up the Belgian highway system I gazed up into the clouded sky and beheld a gray chefs hat with a majestic top slowly beginning to turn. Below it a small trunk began to develop small digits ready to pluck up chickens, cattle and cars, the three c's of this black ribbon of road on which we drove.

The turning chefs hat grew more timid with every minute that passed and finally gave up its quest to scare the hee bee jee bees out of us as well as leaving the three c's in a mood of disgruntlement for all had expected an unexpected joy ride the likes of which had never been recorded.
Striped roads of yellow and white, broken and solid create lanes, which looked as though they were designed for a child's tricycle and not for the many trucks that loomed up behind us with headlights ablaze in the night sky. They bore down on us like modern prehistoric monsters then passed us looking for better pickings. The Toyota hi-lux forerunner, our beast of burden, bravely hauled the trailer carrying the Peugeot iOn, a stickered exhibition of the sponsors supporting this epic journey leading us to the WAVE and the delivery of our message of the double edged sword against climate change. We, the intrepid knights astride the sat-nav steed drove a path straight as an arrow thru the rolling landscapes that make up Germany and Austria.
Our stomachs became kindred spirits growling their discontent while on a lower level the bladders of change sought comfort on the strangest experience of roadside toiletry ever witnessed. One must produce €0.70 cents to be deposited into a machine that spits out a brightly colored holographic imaged receipt returning €0.50 cents to be spent on a wild spree in the munchies department of the gas station. You enter the cubicle, do your business and then pass you hand in front of the tank, a robotic arm, like the last remnant of Arnold Schwarzenegger’s role in the Terminator begins to vomit a clear liquid when suddenly the toilet seat begins to spin and morph as it moves around the toilet rim leaving one gawking and hoping the door to the cubicle will set you free before all hell breaks loose.
The road awaits us as the night creeps into the arms of the rising sun, our eyes demanding to close shop regardless of all that is at stake. Our brains are preparing protest signs clubbing our bodies as we drop into fetal positions of twitch and snore when the hotel appears on a myopic horizon and we have arrived in Salzburg.