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Tag: Aikido trips

Barcelona, Lisbon, London and Toulouse: an international exchange of inspiration in spring 2024

Barcelona, Lisbon, London and Toulouse: an international exchange of inspiration in spring 2024

One of the best things about Aiki­do is that you can stop by vir­tu­ally any club in the world and just work out with the locals. And also that aiki­do semi­nars are open events whe­re peo­ple from all over the con­ti­nent meet. So mee­ting new peo­ple and pla­ces throu­gh the practi­ce of aiki­do is really easy. In this short text, we recap a few of our tra­vels this spring.

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Karaoke and the Friday night fever

Karaoke and the Friday night fever

This eve­ning was unpre­dictable, it was the first time most of us had been to a kara­o­ke bar. Is any­o­ne gon­na show up? And who? The possi­ble group chan­ged all Fri­day, peo­ple chec­king in and out as the­ir sche­du­le con­ti­nu­ally chan­ged. In the end, eigh­te­en of us showed up. First sin­ging attempts, first drinks, uncer­ta­in­ty gra­du­ally dispelled by lau­gh­ter. For­tu­na­te­ly, the­re are tho­se among us who can skill­fully balan­ce between awk­ward­ness and wit and managed to pull the others down. But we had no idea what awai­ted us later…

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“O‑sensei” button in Berlin

“O‑sensei” button in Berlin

We’­ve arri­ved to Ber­lin on Fri­day eve­ning and slept the first day in Kra­nich dojo. Mar­tin and Van­da were alrea­dy tra­i­ning in the other dojo and befo­re sle­e­ping we all went to a Chi­ne­se restau­rant to have some nice dumplings (and acci­den­tally practi­ced a bit of Chinese)
In the dojo, right befo­re sle­e­ping, we’­ve tried to click a but­ton with “Ó‑Sensei” writ­ten on it.

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We collect wine at Bogdan Trojak’s!

We collect wine at Bogdan Trojak’s!

Aiki­do is also work in the vineyard, we agre­ed with our youn­gs­ters. One Satur­day in Octo­ber, we enjoyed the fre­sh air whi­le pic­king gra­pes on the hill abo­ve Žer­no­se­ky, whe­re Bogdan Tro­jak has a vineyard and we some­ti­mes help him out.
We woke up ear­ly in the mor­ning and arri­ved at the pla­ce in the mor­ning fog. We could­n’t see even a few meters, almost by touch we were pic­king and cut­ting the tas­sels, our fin­gers wet from the cold dew.

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