Pingu and Pingvina in Italy: Rome

After our useless holidays on the beach (grown ups, ts!) we were desperate for some culture, so we convinced our parents to travel to Rome, firstly because 2000 years of civilisation can’t be bad and who knows, maybe even I could learn something new there. Lots of mighty Roman gods (and people who fed them), the birthplace of Pizza and Pasta, philosophers and orgies. Destination Pingu!

Rome was one of the best places we’ve ever conquered, we loved it!!! Thanks to the cheap Chianti wine even Pingvina was passionate about it (she didn’t like the museums and ruins). And I was constantly reminded of my childhood in India:
-> noisy and angry drivers who wouldn’t stop for anybody - but leaving the car running in the middle of the street to slowly slurp an espresso,
-> smelly heaps of trash everywhere - but even in the grubbiest looking hole divine good cooking, never had a running nose!
-> everything was dented or scratched or dirty - but what grand monuments dating back to ancient kingdoms!
-> public transport was on strike, demonstrations and lots of shouting and arm waving - but people were so nice they cuddled us to bits
Great wonderful chaos everywhere, definitely not boring like Switzerland.

We lived right next to the Vatican and nearly saw the Pope but our parents didn’t want to arrange an audience for me. So I left some graffitti on his obelisk („Pingu was here“ and phone number). He never called back. The Colosseum was where slaves fought with lions and crazy gladiators fought each other, we just missed the last show by 1600 years. If I ever get back to my Maharaja kingdom I’ll build one of these. And I’ll have loads of giant Pingu statues made, also one for Pingvina.
We stuffed our bellies with the best available smells on the planet three times a day and there are hundreds of impressions and stories I could write about, but I have to stop now. It’s dinner time and I still have to load the photos mummy took (in the last photo we are imprisoned in the same dungeon where St.Peter and the arch enemies of Rome were kept - our parents were joking again). Ciao for now.

First honeymoon in New Zealand

With the sweet smell of dozens of wine bottles and beer cases in my belly we left for my parent’s honeymoon in Bali (just cured our hangover there, but seeing their cool attitudes towards gods in general I might go back one day) and New Zealand. Mami was there before India and liked it so much she wanted to show us how beautiful it is. We travelled the whole country and I learned that penguins don’t just live in Antarctica, but that there are some half-civilised fellows living under houses and in villages. Hey buddies, just a small step and you’re there! This swimming and raw fish diet really spoils it all, they smell worse than camels!

I could move quite freely because they never heard of Pingu before. Even for me the Pingu thing can get too overwhelming, I like my peaceful dialogues with nature.

See how close I got to water!!! I was growing up fast these days. I had my own River Prayag Pingu Temple, made of stone so it will last forever. There was always the danger of a flash flood or a wicked seabird snatching me up, or a wind gust throwing me into the waves, or trees falling over onto my spot, or wild fish jumping out to get me or rain to make me wet, but I occupied my side job long enough for a photo.

Because I didn’t want to be left alone in a house with a cat I agreed to come on a sailing trip. Water everywhere! Why do people do such things? I repeatedly took over the rudder to steer back into the port but the captain insisted on his plans (see one of our fights on the photo). He was a real captain with a big beard and I was happy not to get tangled up in it. Once he explained that the boat belonged to a famous Hollywood actor with a very similar lifestyle to mine (Erroll Flynn - a sort of Hollywood’s version of Pingu), I felt more at home. Couldn’t smell any alcohol left though, he must have drunk it all before he sold the boat. I also survived this adventure, hopefully enough proof that I’m not such a softie.

New Zealand travel info:

Back in Switzerland with my parents

After 2 years of hard work and travelling in India we started to miss Papi, after all family should always come first and so we decided to go and live with him in Switzerland. It was a hard experience to acclimatise myself. It started as soon as we stepped into the car park in Zurich airport when I couldn’t breathe. There was just nothing to inhale! No smells, no essences to nibble on, only slowly I again learned to distinguish food from recreational smells and breathing. Thank God I stored lots of smell reserves in my body tissue, there must have been a dust particle from everywhere in India stashed under my wings, but they gradually disappeared. I have still a few Indian ones hidden 10 years later but I won’t tell anyone where exactly. Another reason was that I had finetuned my skills so well to the desert environment, when they suddenly asked me to make good weather for the weekends I was a total failure. I was used to a success rate of 100% and now it dropped to 30%, I was depressed.

Boy then I learned what evil substance water was (now don't say "But you're a penguin" @#!!$ Only snow is bearable)! There was so much of it around! I completely ignored it before but when it drops fom the sky and people talk of sticking me into washing machines the whole time it’s scary. It was now definitely a goal for me to stop the rain as often as I could. My parents shared the same opinion that I would probably disintegrate if caught in a storm or washed so that was off the table once and for all, what a relief ! But I absolutely hate it when Mami tapes me!!!

And there were the good times. More kinds of beer than you can imagine, and all that wine. I discovered the mountains and gorges, did some snowboarding, meditated at high altitudes, it was my fourth childhood, and slowly I got some control over the weather. Pingu was back!

Ad: The best Switzerland Hotels - Zurich Hotels - Interlaken Hotels!

Becoming a God

India is a crazy place, we had so much fun. I turned into a little celebrity and with all this attention they soon realised that 1. I’m not a chicken and 2. I’m not just an ordinary penguin either! I heard a lot about them living in Antarctica, their bums frozen on ice blocks (it’s ok in whiskey), eating raw fish (better in a hot curry) and even getting wet to catch it themselves, what a disgusting and backward way to live! And no smells down there, just cold wind and so boring. I was definitely a step further in evolution: no more flying, no more swimming in stupid water, not even walking is necessary for me!

People noticed that I don’t eat the dirty way like them, but that I can live from smelling food (it has to be nutritious though). That is just the way Indian Gods eat! It soon dawned on me and others, that I must be a sort of god, too. Blimey there are 300 million so the chances were quite big it’s true! But then what was my job, I must serve a purpose, right? We researched and Mami found out that when she feeds me spirits, which I like most of all smells, that it never rained on the next day. We tried to prove this daily for months and months and it was always true! I can keep the rain away! We learned that my boss was called Indra and I’m one of his weather gods! I am more efficient in my Rajasthan home area than elsewhere but that’s also because elsewhere the smells are less intense and Mami doesn’t have loads of disciples who feed me.

And there’s more! During an opium ceremony I half-dreamed that I was born into slavery for a purpose, for I was a wicked film star in an earlier life. Apparently I made lots of dosh and had lots of girlfriends, my Papi even named me Pingu after him (myself) because he (I) was so famous. But I don’t look back. I must have sinned so much it’s best to keep quiet and just fulfill my duty and remain humble about it all (but check out my fan corner on the left hand side, cool!).

Being a Maharaja

It’s impossible to write about all the adventures we had in India. The smells were so intense that I started gaining weight, and I never really got rid of my tan since. I can hardly remember my innocent white belly from childhood, now it looks as dark and leathery as Clint Eastwood’s. I soon found out the difference between admirers and enemies, sometimes they did both at the same time. The most dangerous people in the world are definitely kids, the smaller the worse they are. First they grab me, press my belly and head, even try to torture me (they wouldn’t listen to any confession I make neither), then they bite and try to eat me, and when my Mami steps in to save me they start to cry as if they couldn’t live without me! I like worshipping, but without the torture thing.

Because Mami was so important we visited lots of palaces and I met many people with turbans and moustaches. The people who followed her always bought loads of stuff wherever they went, similar to chicken who always pick up things off the ground. Mami and I were always very welcome, although sometimes people were so confused they thought I was the leader and Mami my servant. Well, not confused perhaps, as they do have 5000 years of wisdom and sometimes a third eye with which they can see things, but of course I couldn’t control Mami like I did with the camels.

One special day she thought I was old enough to meet the Maharaja. She dressed me up and we had dinner in a big room. Full of pride, the Maharaja just showed everybody how to tie his turban when suddenly he spotted how perfectly done mine was! In fact it was more precise than his. He was totally impressed and we were big friends since. Whenever we stopped by in his palace gave me the honour to guard his weapon collection. When we saw him the last time he gave me a big good bye present! He gifted me with some of his own land to make sure I would always leave a part of me with him. Well it was just a square metre or so but being an owner of royal property that turned me into a Maharaja myself!!! I love that guy! He kept calling me Murg but that was fine.

Travelling in India was much more fun since. People started to take pictures of me, everyone fed me with smells and we had VIP treatment in most places, similar to Princess Diana whose seat I sat on.

Arriving in India

It was a nightmare. Another dark long déjà vu in a dark cramped space. Another surprise at the end. The amount and intensity of all the smells was beyond measure, stuff I never smelt before and some even edible, this was definitely my place! But oops, wasn’t this the place where they wanted to donate my poor fluffy self to wing-pulling drooling biting screaming bad-smelling children??? I panicked again and tried to enjoy my last free moments. Suddenly his hand grabbed me, it was incredibly bright suddenly and I found myself cuddled up in a soft warm nice-smelling hand full of love – MAAAMIIII!!!

Yes, that’s how I found my Mami, how she found me. It was obviously all just a prank about the dangerous brats and so on, I’m sure what happened was 100% fate and not just pity because I’m so cute (like they still say sometimes). It was soon clear that I was to spend most of my childhood in this smelly place called India, and boy that was fun! I was still young and white on my belly back then, but the adventures ahead were to turn me into quite a cool guy.

Early childhood in Switzerland

My second childhood in Switzerland was short. After the hell I went through it felt like being reborn. Soon my nightmares stopped (wings falling off, stuffed in a dark box, suffocating under countless other penguins etc.) and I discovered how superb food can smell, somehow it made me feel very energetic. Even today I still like burnt stuff. I grew into a handsome little Pingu boy. Only my Papi’s remark „take you to India as a gift for children“ scared me down to the bones, but obviously he was joking.

Well, actually my Papi wasn’t that nice to me back then. He was mostly out and I was lying around the whole time (I have some trouble moving around by myself). I remember he was very excited when he received phone calls from far away, it looked like he would soon leave this place here and me behind. Very confusing. Then he really packed a big bag – and me inside!

Switzerland Hotels