09/08/2019
Torfdoen
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Torfdoen
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Local recreation in Esbjerg
No sea cucumbers in the water. Only nature in the overwhelmed sense. This is the most sterile industrial port I've ever seen. Here was chemically processed.
Chlorine. Adhesive. Vetiver substitute (the nutty, canisterwise). All things may work against algae. Nevertheless, some driftwood floats in the harbour basin, where several aroma trees (the green ones) are stapled. And a bouquet of roses. Do you want to fill the flavoured harbour water into a spray dispenser, which is standing here at the pier in front of me, and press it on the people passing by as a business idea? Pft, pft... A refreshing idea. In summer, when you want to combat the onset of sweating immediately after showering, you glue the glands together. Outside the periphery of the scented area, the whole person smells more and more unwashed in the course of the day. That's a nice contrast that you can take to the extreme thanks to such an artificial perfume. The spatial effect is, thank God, strong, so that the smell of the own fish is covered without any problems.
Whatever floats from the fish remains on the surface can be collected and disposed of by the next cutter. The harbor workers who hurry along immediately use Co2 dry ice fire extinguishers to combat the resulting water and skin impurities. There's coastal fog at the booth. It warms and invites contemplation. A port where the fish disappear. Here in Esbjerg people do not seem to regret the lack of large container ships.
I feel like a tadpole on shore leave. How one could afford such an unused port, I ask one of the workers. Tourism, he answers concisely. With a sigh on my lips, I lose myself in the vastness of a seamless horizon. And the foggy spray dims the mercilessly radiating sun once again on the bearable.
Chlorine. Adhesive. Vetiver substitute (the nutty, canisterwise). All things may work against algae. Nevertheless, some driftwood floats in the harbour basin, where several aroma trees (the green ones) are stapled. And a bouquet of roses. Do you want to fill the flavoured harbour water into a spray dispenser, which is standing here at the pier in front of me, and press it on the people passing by as a business idea? Pft, pft... A refreshing idea. In summer, when you want to combat the onset of sweating immediately after showering, you glue the glands together. Outside the periphery of the scented area, the whole person smells more and more unwashed in the course of the day. That's a nice contrast that you can take to the extreme thanks to such an artificial perfume. The spatial effect is, thank God, strong, so that the smell of the own fish is covered without any problems.
Whatever floats from the fish remains on the surface can be collected and disposed of by the next cutter. The harbor workers who hurry along immediately use Co2 dry ice fire extinguishers to combat the resulting water and skin impurities. There's coastal fog at the booth. It warms and invites contemplation. A port where the fish disappear. Here in Esbjerg people do not seem to regret the lack of large container ships.
I feel like a tadpole on shore leave. How one could afford such an unused port, I ask one of the workers. Tourism, he answers concisely. With a sigh on my lips, I lose myself in the vastness of a seamless horizon. And the foggy spray dims the mercilessly radiating sun once again on the bearable.
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