I have to elaborate a bit on the story behind this picture, but the situation I experienced on location was just too bizarre to not mention it here:
After an unsuccessful morning shoot at Lake Gerold, I was already on my way back when I received a message from Richard (a local photographer friend): I should take a look at the little village of Wamberg on the way, which offers a great photo motif with the village church in front of the Zugspitze.
Coming from the B2 (E533), the quite narrow road leads directly to the village (as seen here), which seemed completely quiet, almost deserted, when I arrived.
For lack of a better alternative, I parked my car somewhat unorthodoxly on a steep dirt road. If, contrary to expectations, someone had had to pass by there, I would have been in the immediate vicinity and could have moved the car - but apparently such a scenario was not to be expected.
But if you don't reckon with Bavarian beasts, you reckon wrong!
I was not yet 50 steps away from the car when a tractor coming from the village approached, honking loudly. It was obvious that this cacophony was dedicated to me and my awkwardly parked car, so I instantly came back to move the car.
Surprisingly, the farmer did not honour my return in any way, but stopped - continuing to make noise - at full speed towards me, capping his wild ride with an official full stop right at my feet. In the face of this dangerous kamikaze action, I abruptly lost my composure and in a split second turned from a peaceful photographer into a battle-ready hulk.
However, an elderly, quite small farmer jumped red-headed from the tractor, approached me with raised fists and started to insult me with a heavy Bavarian dialect (including „“SAKRAKRUZIFIX!“, „“SCHLEICH DI!“, “WIE SIAHST ÜBERHOAPT OAS MIT DEI HAARE?“) of which I, as a Westphalian, only understood the fragments reproduced here.
My anger quickly dissipated at the sight of Rumpelstiltskin foaming with rage, swearing in Bavarian and swinging his fists - and unpleasantly gave way to a kind of amusement.
The fact that I was so unimpressed by his behaviour apparently irritated the farmer so much that short breaks came up in his hate speech, and at some point I was able to mention I would gladly clear the way - if only he would let me.
Accompanied by wild imprecations, I moved the car and the farmer roared past with his tractor.
While I photographed Wamberg afterwards, Rumpelstiltskin went about his day's work, passing my car several times, which was parked on a slope in the meantime. Each time I squinted anxiously, expecting the farmer to push the car with his tractor into the ravine - but it remained peaceful.
In the afternoon I met with Richard and told him about the incident. Apparently, the farmer's frustration was caused by the big problems with the many tourists who spent their 2020 holidays in Bavaria due to the Corona pandemic. Moreover, Wamberg is probably no longer an insider tip, but has long been discovered by the Instagram community - with all the accompanying problems of over-tourism.
So in retrospect, the farmer's anger seems quite understandable to me. In the end, nothing happened, except that I came home that day with a nice picture and a - hopefully entertaining - story.
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Photographer: Marcus Danz
Website: bilderschmied.com
Shop: shop.bilderschmied.com
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