<\/p>\n
It's important that you get exercise, you tell me.<\/p>\n
"Do you think my stomach looks big?" I ask.<\/p>\n
No, that's not it, you say.<\/p>\n
Not primarily that, you add a little later.<\/p>\n
Then you say: I want you to be healthy and strong.<\/p>\n
We have moved to the eastern part of England. midland<\/em> for five months, where I will be working at a university in connection with my PhD. We live in an idyllic English village about six kilometers from the university. You have come with me and will be writing your thesis while we are away. We have both been given jobs at the university.<\/p>\n This weekend we take the bus to Leicester, where we're going to buy a couple of used bikes. Once we've bought them, we cycle back to our temporary home. A long ride of about twenty kilometers through flat, green landscapes, along endless streams that crisscross the country.<\/p>\n At one point the stream widens and becomes a beautiful lake. The clouds have retreated a bit and the sun is shining. It is peaceful here. We feel our stomachs rumbling, and at that moment we spot a pub among the trees, right where the path turns.<\/p>\n As we enter, we arrive in the bar area. There is music in the background and football on the flat screen behind the bar, around which men and a few women gather with a mug of beer in hand. The atmosphere is cheerful and loose. A woman comes to meet us and asks if we have come to eat? If so, they have space in the back rooms, which are designed more with diners in mind. Behind her we can see families gathered for the weekly Sunday roast<\/em>. "But we can also sit and eat here in the bar area if we prefer," she hastens to say.<\/p>\n When we get back, you notice that the handlebars are not completely secure. You can wiggle them around, and of course we forgot our bike helmets. It'll be fine, you say. It'll take a lot before it comes completely loose.<\/p>\n I'm not sure and I'm getting scared.<\/p>\n What if the handlebars come loose over one of the many bumps in the asphalt? Or down a hill?<\/p>\n What if you hit your head?<\/p>\n The most beautiful of all heads.<\/p>\n What would I do without your head?<\/p>\n I love you, I tell you as we're about to drive. You're standing there fiddling with your jacket. It's getting cloudy now. Maybe it's going to rain and with the rain, slippery roads. I love you, you know that, right? I look you straight in the eyes. You stop fiddling with your jacket and look up. Meet my gaze. Yes, you say. I know that. I'll drive carefully.<\/p>\n A few weeks later it is Easter. In the morning we take the train north and arrive at the station in Penrith at noon. From here we take the bus to Keswick. We are in The Lake District, England's largest national park, where we have planned five walking days.<\/p>\n On Easter Sunday we will set out on the toughest stage, as we will cross the peak of Helvellyn, which rises 950 metres above sea level. The day offers more than 1000 metres of elevation gain, and it is a beautiful day as we set out from our bed and breakfast after breakfast. Right from the start the route takes us up a steeper gradient than we have been used to from the previous days.<\/p>\n We have been hiking for a few hours and have climbed quite a bit in altitude when a dizzying sound suddenly cuts through the landscape. The sound of a rapid increase in altitude\u2026 We stop, turn and look down towards the valley we have come from, which now looks quite small and insignificant. Like an enormous, silvery insect, an F-35 fighter jet gracefully dives over the opposite mountain peak and dives far down towards the valley. The plane continues to dive, and for a split second I have doubts whether it will hit the ground and wipe out the village. At the last moment the plane straightens up and instead sets its course directly towards us.<\/p>\n Stop! I shout.<\/p>\n You continue your behavior.<\/p>\n "Stand still, don't go any further!" I scream.<\/p>\n Up here it is blowing hard. The ground is full of loose stones. The sight of the edge and the view that stretches beyond it makes me dizzy. From the edge it drops steeply with many deadly meters.<\/p>\n As you continue towards the edge anyway, I start to cry. Won't you stop!? I shout in a last desperate attempt, tears rolling down my cheeks.<\/p>\n When we lie in our beds at our backpacker hostel in the evening, freshly washed and with red, burning cheeks, the atmosphere is relaxed. We talk about the day until I start to doze off and the room disappears.<\/p>\n The next moment I see you looking at me. A serious expression falls over your face. You kiss my forehead, and then you place your hand on my chest. Then you say: what makes you think we can ever be apart?<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Photo: Tue Martin Jakobsen<\/span><\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" It's important that you get exercise, you tell me. Do you think my belly looks big? I ask. No, it's not that, you say. Not primarily...<\/p>","protected":false},"author":61,"featured_media":31646,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":[],"meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[443,1],"tags":[433],"person":[361],"class_list":["post-31341","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-fra-livet","category-praxis","tag-fra-livet","person-katrine-annesdatter-madsen"],"subtitle":"","embedded_audio":"","hasaudio":[],"hide_featured_image_on_post":"0","nobio":"0","infobox":"","quote":"","year_published":"2024","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.kontemplation.dk\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/31341","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.kontemplation.dk\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.kontemplation.dk\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.kontemplation.dk\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/61"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.kontemplation.dk\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=31341"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/www.kontemplation.dk\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/31341\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":34212,"href":"https:\/\/www.kontemplation.dk\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/31341\/revisions\/34212"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.kontemplation.dk\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/31646"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.kontemplation.dk\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=31341"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.kontemplation.dk\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=31341"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.kontemplation.dk\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=31341"},{"taxonomy":"person","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.kontemplation.dk\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/person?post=31341"},{"taxonomy":"format","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.kontemplation.dk\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/format?post=31341"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}