Rambling in a Biergarten

It occurred to me that lately I have done lots of ranting and campaigning on the blog, and not as much general rambling, reviews, and travel reports. It has become a bit too much Salt and not enough Caramel.

I started to rectify this earlier today with a blog post about my new handbag and find myself wishing to tell you readers more about my life.

It has been a busy couple of months. Moving to Scotland, receiving the offer to blog in Kenya, my first book contract, agreeing to host a workshop for Mumsnet about Social Media, writing for Salt&Caramel, Jump! Mag and more recently for the Gates Foundation blog Impatient Optimists (which I shall be doing more of in the coming months).

Sometimes I feel as if I am constantly rushing to keep up, hit the next deadline, finish that article…

On top of all this, we have bought a house and will be moving in after the summer holidays. I am currently in Germany with the family for the summer.

I am trying to keep working while I am here, but as anyone who has kids will know, it is not easy to keep kids amused during the summer holidays and get some decent work done at the same time. Today I got them through the day by promising a playarea this afternoon, and what a great idea that was.

We are in a biergarten in the North of Munich, called Sankt Emmerans Muehle. Fairly typical biergarten at first glance, and chosen for the fact that it has a playarea. When we drove in we were stopped by a dashing young man (I am showing my age!) who offered to park my car. Valet parking in a biergarten seemed strange, but he explained that when it gets busy later, they otherwise run out of space. By parking cars themselves, they can fit more vehicles in and park cars in front of other cars.

The next surprise was when I sat down to do some writing. As I searched for my trusty dongle, a message popped up offering free wifi. HURRAH, my inner geek shrieked. Wifi and a playarea – bliss for working mums.

So here I sit, the sun shining through the old oaks, as the wind rustles through the leaves. A plate of salami and cured meat has just been brought.  I nibble on the salami and wrap some of the grated cheese in a slice of cured ham. OUCH. It is not cheese, it is horse radish. That is the sinuses cleared anyway.

My children return to devour some of the ham and salami (son) some of the cheese (daughter) and two big brezels (both). Daughter is an almost vegetarian, weakening only for bacon.

The waiter brings a glass of chilled Pinot Grigio and I listen with half an interested brain to the conversation of the northern Germans on the table next to me. As ever, they think that I am only English speaking as I have spoken to the kids and the dog in that language. It makes them more careless with the volume of their conversation. This happens a lot and I am often torn between humouring strangers who speak to me in broken English, and telling them that I speak German, which may make them feel silly.

I speak German with a north Bavarian accent, which comes as a surprise to those who think that I am a forriner.

This post is becoming ever more rambling, so I will stop here and wish you all a pleasant and sun filled evening. Prost!