This second book of Julia Summerland’s novel is highly addictive. The highs and lows she goes through with all the potential Mr. Rights make for an incredible reading experience. And now I’m feeling torn, because I want her to find “the one”, but on the other hand I don’t want her to ever stop writing about her funny stories.
(Katarina)
With the exception of public figures, all the characters depicted in this book are creatures of Julia’s imagination and any resemblance to any real person is coincidental. However, the events around the Covid-19 pandemic in 2020 and 2021 were very real and are described as they happened.
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1st Edition 2021
ISBN: 978-3-8280-3638-3
All rights reserved Printed in Germany
What do they know? Men are funny animals.
Summerland has done it again! In her new novel, Summerland questions human nature, and specifically the nature of the ‘worse half’ of humanity, men. Like little kids they are good at playing with their toys, from their phones to their new electric Hummer cars, from the mountain bikes to their forty foot yachts. But what do they know about what is happening in their immediate families, circle of friends, around them and just under their nose?
This story describes the complex relationship between husband and wife and a father and his children, from the point of view of the man’s lover. Not just any lover, but a lover in Corona times, when physical contact is limited and even seeing each other is sanctioned by the state which ‘closes and opens’ people’s life. Moreover, the story takes place in Luxembourg, a small place where everybody knows everybody else and any secretive escapade becomes public knowledge within days.
Who knew, what and when? Reading Summerland’s new book will create as many questions as it provides answers. Why are men so oblivious to their most intimate relationships? Are they born like that? Good at hunting but bad in nursing? Multiplying their genetic code to ensure the continuity of their own genotype? Does it have to do with the fact that they are raised by mothers who make sure their sons would be totally dependent on them for growing up? Or does it have to do with the way society expects men to behave differently than women, be macho, tough and never cry, depend on the other gender to support their basic needs, and only be responsible to get enough dough on the family table?
It is an intriguing story, full of laughter and amusement, just the right reading stuff for a long pandemic season.
Bernard M.
“Life does not always write the best stories. However, it writes the most honest ones.”
(Katarina)
***
A long time ago – in March 2020 to be exact – when people did not need to wear masks and could do all kinds of things without social distancing, I found myself at a crossroad in my life.
After a treasured relationship had been ended by my long-term partner I was feeling a little aimless and drifting when the first coronavirus lockdown began and this galvanised me. There was only one thing to do: find the man of my dreams in spite of what was happening and what might happen.
I decided that the best way to achieve this goal would be to sign up to an online dating platform called Meetyourlove. The men I met there and the stories I heard inspired me to write a book about my experiences.
That first book– ‘Love in Times of Coronavirus’ – concluded on 14 July 2020 – after just five hectic months when the world seemed to have turned upside down.
I continue the story from then.
On 6 August 2020, my first book – ‘Love in Times of Coronavirus’ – went to print.
It was a hot and dry summer day. Temperatures had been well above thirty degrees for weeks without rain, which is exceptional for Luxembourg. Very unusually, from the first lockdown in March 2020, the sun had come out and had stayed all spring and all summer long.
At this point, there were mainly three men in my life, all three asking me out on that same day. However, none of these three men seemed to be suitable partner material. Earlier in the year, I had joined the online dating platform meetyourlove.org with the purpose of meeting a suitable partner.
So far, my efforts had not been successful, upended by the coronavirus pandemic right at the beginning of my first encounters, with social distancing measures, lockdown, the air becoming so clean and colours really beautiful; not to mention closures of restaurants, bars, shops, borders, and curfews and having to stay close to home, all to reduce infection, loss of work, and airplanes on the ground. Writing down the meetings with the different men helped me overcome my sorrow but the right man remained elusive and that’s why I continued writing about my experiences.
These three men were, in August 2020: Carl (married), Alan (my ex), and Jordan (too old for me).
That day, the first to call me was Carl.
“Do you want to go for a bike ride this afternoon with me, before my race with the group? Tonight we are meeting with the group in Contern. We could meet in Hesperange park and from there we could cycle together to Contern. The road is partially closed to cars over the summer, which makes it a nice ride.”
“Very good idea,” I replied, “Let’s do it!”
The second was Alan.
“Do you want to go for a bike ride today, after work?” Alan asked me.
“Six or half past would be perfect.”
“Maybe a bit earlier, five thirty?”
“Sorry, busy then.”
“Shall we meet in Hesperange park and do the bike path together?
“Perfect!”
The third was Jordan.
“Julia,” he asked, “do you want to come for dinner tonight at my place, melon with ham, what time could you come?”
“Eight would be good for me, right after my Distance Fitness!” (I had created Distance Fitness on 19 March 2020 as a response to the full lockdown. It offered people socially-distanced fitness classes from their balconies or in the courtyard of my apartment building.)
That same hot, summer evening, after having met with all three men, I sat on my balcony and reflected on my life, my attempts to find the right partner, my failure to do so, coronavirus, my writing, my teaching, climate change, online dating, and, most importantly, the possibility of going on holiday in coronavirus times.
_________________________________________
Coronavirus restrictions were eased and many travel
restrictions were lifted, with the result that people
travelled and got infected and there were rising
numbers of infections.
With partial closures, there were quarantines.
Luxembourg was on the list of dangerous countries to
travel to and people coming from Luxembourg had to
quarantine for 14 days when travelling to Germany.
__________________________________
Shortly after awakening, I, spontaneously but decisively, packed my things and went on a week’s holiday to the Holland region and Amsterdam. I had been to North Holland before with Alan. We used to travel there several times a year. Still, since he had left me I hadn’t returned to the place I loved so much. Now, this morning, I suddenly felt ready to face it and the memories.
Everything was as nice as always in Holland. There was however one exception: the weather was extremely hot. It is rare to see the region so hot with the fields dried out, with sunburnt grass.
I wrote to Alan on WhatsApp, “I am in Holland.” He answered, “Don’t write or call, please, I am with, you know.” He was with his new girlfriend, the one he had left me for. He was so afraid of the new girl’s jealousy.
On arrival, the big change was the ‘normality’ of the place. Coronavirus? What coronavirus? Here in North Holland, it was not very visible, besides face masks on public transport. Nobody wore them on their bikes. This was a welcome change.
There was one thing I had wished to do for years and had never dared: the Texel skydive, a tandem jump from 13,000 feet. I went to the Texel airport by ferryboat and bike. I stood there, watching the others jump. I took videos and photos but didn’t jump. I returned to my hotel, frustrated.
Carl wrote: “Did you do it?”
“No, sorry, maybe another time.”
I felt so bad about this that the next day I registered for a jump. There was not a single cloud in the sky.
That day, I did the Skydive at Texel.
It was fantastic!
Absolutely amazing.
The view from 13,000 feet was breath-taking, so was the free fall. My instructor, a young blond woman as well, opened the parachute and we glided softly to earth. The views over the island were absolutely astounding, everything seemed so calm from up there. No more problems. They had all vanished at the moment I jumped out of the plane, with the wind’s noise in my ears and my arms spread out. The instructor showed me what to do, how to behave, what to do next and how to steer the parachute. The landing, ah, the landing was smooth and soft on the grass. Coronavirus rules still applied though, everybody had to jump with their face masks on.
Carl was curious, “How was it?” he asked. He rarely telephoned, normally he preferred to write, but now he wanted to hear the story with his own ears. “It was absolutely amazing…” I breathed. Finally, I had got some admiration, I noticed, some actual admiration from Carl.
Carl wanted to know, “How high is 13,000 feet? Your feet or my feet? This would make a difference!”
“I think it is something around 4,000 metres.”
“When did you open the parachute? At what height?”
“Honestly, I don’t know.”
Jordan wrote: “Now this is my Julia, just how I love her! When shall we jump together? You are the best and will always be the best for me! I am ready to jump together with you! But how high is 13,000 feet?”
I cycled the bike path from Bergen to Den Helder, via Schoorl and Callantsog, through the dunes and taking the lovely rolling path. Then it was back from Den Helder to Bergen-aan-Zee, with a stop in Callantsog to eat kibbeling and kippers at the fish restaurant. Arriving in Bergen-aan-Zee through the dunes with the smell of the pine forest was unforgettable. Then after that, there was the joy of swimming in the North Sea. At first, the water seemed bitingly cold, but then, once in the water, I noticed how warm the water itself was in that heat. It was fun to enjoy the waves and to laugh and shout like everybody else. Then it was time for sunbathing on the fine white sand. But how unusually crowded it was, it had never been so crowded there before. Well, the fine weather must have made everybody come to this beach. Indeed, the beach was packed with families, kids and parents playing happily in the sand, building sandcastles, and collecting shells or simply strolling along the beach.
Tomorrow it would be back to Luxembourg, unfortunately the week’s holiday was already coming to an end.
In the evening, in my hotel room, I suddenly felt horribly lonesome. There are such moments. Despite having been brave and courageous all of these days, all of a sudden, I felt alone – and took to Meetyourlove. Why not?
Carl, Alan and Jordan wouldn’t know.
I found this man: smiling, good looking, sporty. I gave him my phone number. He wrote a WhatsApp message: “Hallo, I am the man from Meetyourlove. Thank you for your number.”
“What’s your real name?”
“My name is Pat, I am from Munich originally, and have been working in Luxembourg for 20 years.”
“Very nice to hear from you, you speak German then?”
“Yes.”
And this was the end of the conversation for this evening. “Strange,” I thought.
The next day, Sunday 16 August, it was twenty-seven degrees in Amsterdam at seven in the morning. The streets were empty, most people would have gone to bed just a few hours ago after enjoying their Saturday night out. I packed and left for Luxembourg. The drive back home was uneventful besides one funny curiosity. It rained exactly, really exactly, at the border sign showing ‘Luxembourg’. A thunderstorm burst right there, unbelievable. All through the Netherlands and Belgium the weather had been perfect.
Carl messaged me: “Good morning Julia. Kisses.”
“If you want to kiss me in person this afternoon…”
Carl: “:)”
And that was the end of the conversation with Carl for the day. “Strange,” I thought again.
Jordan also messaged me: “Good morning dear Julia, I hope you enjoy your performance in the air for a long time, yes forever! Yesterday was a holiday in Luxembourg. I did a bike tour from Ettelbruck passing by Echternach to Wasserbillig, about 50km. The train was packed with people and bikes....Kisses. Jordan.”
I messaged back: “Hello Jordan. I am back home.”
Jordan got on the phone and called me. We talked a while about the day, just a nice normal phone conversation.
Later I took my bike for a short ride on the bike path to Hesperange and back.
Jordan wrote: “I have too many mirabelle plums, may I come to bring you some this evening? Kisses. Jordan.”
“Yes please, after half past seven, I am teaching an online class before then.”
“Ok, I’ll be at your place at eight-thirty.”
Next, there was a message from Pat: “Good day!”
“Thank you, you too,” I sent back.
Pat: “Nice to hear from you.”
“What are you up to?”
“Just at home, relaxing. And you?”
“I’m cycling.”
“You are very sporty!”
“Not you?” I asked.
He concluded with: “Enjoy!”
And that was it. He was short in his messages. Not really talkative, was he?
Back from the bike ride, I again took to Meetyourlove.
There was a man, Markus, who had contacted me the day before, but I hadn’t replied straight away. So I looked at his details and photos. I liked what I saw. Not too old, close to my age, sporty and divorced. Ah, divorced, hopefully it’s true. Kids, yes. “Ok,” I thought. I liked him back, he replied, instantly, with his email address. “He must be decisive to answer so fast.” I emailed him with my phone number, so that he could contact me via WhatsApp.
Markus: “It is my pleasure to write to you. If it’s okay, I’ll call you after dinner.”
“Enjoy your dinner! Yes, please call me after dinner!”
Markus: “I’ll call you at eight-thirty.”