The impeded stream is the one that sings...
Wendell Berry
It may be that when we no longer know what to do
we have come to our real work,
and that when we no longer know which way to go
we have come to our real journey.
The mind that is not baffled is not employed.
The impeded stream is the one that sings. — Wendell Berry
I write this with a cup of ersatz coffee, a weirdly achy left calf muscle, and a mix of emotions. On one hand, I am glad to be back from over 3 weeks of travel throughout Europe. On the other, the stories and experiences often trigger bouts of emotionality when they breeze through my conscious thought.
In particular, a rushed airbnb booking in the wrong city may have indeed changed the trajectory of my life.
I hurriedly accepted an invitation to speak at GeoPython 2024 in Basel, Switzerland. This would be my first opportunity to speak live after previously being remote during the conference and booked to also speak at Geospatial World Forum in Rotterdam I would be in the neighborhood so to speak.
I was blissfully (and ignorantly) unaware of the multiple campuses of University of Applied Sciences and Arts Northwestern Switzerland FHNW, the host of the conference in Switzerland. Thankfully the error only cost me a 40 minute train ride to Muttenz.
But oh what I gained. I was booked at Flusshaus Bed & Being in Brugg Aargau (AG) — important to include the AG as luck also landed me in a region with two Bruggs.
I was arriving late from the Netherlands and the streets were empty as I followed directions to Fluss haus or river house in English. At the end of the street I saw a solitary figure of a man with spirited curls standing at the curb in front of my destination. Immediately I felt welcomed and not the nuisance I assumed with my late arrival.
Every conversation at Fluss Haus was a marvel. If you have spent time in another country — especially a place off of the tourist grid — it is these stories that stay with us. This view from the dining room of this house originally built in the 1700s pretty much says it all.
Pardon my thumb but it is still my favorite video from this spot. I chuckled as Roland told me stories of working up stream and commuting home by hopping into the river and letting the current serve as a highway.
Not surprisingly with almost 3 weeks of travel already under my belt and likely the most time ever on trains I noticed the wee symptoms of a cold. This became problematic because I did have one more talk in Muttenz and wouldn’t that be a gem if I lost my voice. Not to worry, I was given a thermos of hot herbal tea with honey to sip throughout the evening and early morning.
My first morning waking at the Inn a traveler knocked on the cafe window asking about a cup of coffee. The Fluss Haus only opens its doors to the public on the weekend but Roland didn’t hesitate. He invited her in and that is when even more magic was sprinkled by serendipity and kindness. Her long curly loosely entwined braids framed a youthful and brilliant smile. No hesitation to enter a space with strangers that were indeed strangers to each other but engaged in story and laughter. She is a mathematical engineer and we all experienced the magic of travel, story and really enjoying the moment.
In fact, among other things, I learned something. Roland began asking about my next stop on the journey and with grace, halted his query. He reminded me that it was important to enjoy each day and what it holds. It avoids the overwhelm of holding train schedules, responsibility for an entire trip. Each day is a moment and opportunity — no need to live in chaos right?
Sadly I knew I would miss one final breakfast with the inn slowly waking up around 7 while I would be departing around 5:30 a.m. My simple request was perhaps a small baguette to accompany me to the train.
This is what was left for me. I won’t lie dear reader. It made me weep. The gesture of kindness and friendship was real. I will be returning to this magical place — not as soon as I would like but I look forward to the destination being intentional and deliberate.
My new friends are with me as I admire something new, sit here sipping coffee in blue Moroccan slippers I bought as a souvenir and await delivery of book recommendations from the lovely French mathematician.
The funniest part of serendipity? When we connected on LinkedIn she noticed one of her friends also follows me — what a small world.