For about a year now, the greater part of my life takes place outdoors. That is not surprising, just one week before the first shutdown we moved to the countryside, the outside world becoming my natural habitat.

What was not yet clear to me at the time: my social life would also take place in the open air almost exclusively. During the summer we had barbecues in our little "Badi" (Swiss for public pool) in the afternoons, in the evenings we sat in local beer gardens, in pretty reasonable distance from other families. Then came autumn and winter, the seasons of the fireplaces and overcrowded hikers' huts - which is why the Covid virus loves them so dearly.

So we decided to stay outside as much as possible.

In freezing temperatures as well as in drizzle, in snow and on ice, by day and by night. “Let's go for a walk” became the new “Do we want to see each other for an early drink?”. Our look and equipment were gradually adapted to the new lifestyle. In addition to solid shoes and weatherproof jackets, what I needed most of all was: a vacuum bottle.

A prop from my childhood when our family set out south at dawn and the hot coffee was supposed to keep the driver, my father, happy. These mostly blue or red plastic jugs with the white screwed-on drinking cup have given way to shiny silver containers, since ubiquitous joggers and urban hippsters made it a law to carry drinks with you.

Although a drink can be kept hot as well as cold according to the principle of the so-called thermos flask, I can't bring myself to run through the forest with one of these “coffee-to-go tumblers”.

Here comes the solution: The "Classic Hammertone Vacuum Insulating Jug". It kept its design for more than a hundred years when keeping drinks warm using appropriately costructed containers became popular all over the world. Made of metal and almost indestructible, they also remind me of the hunters´tin cans - when I was a child they carried either hot soups or cognac-infused teas with them in their leather finished backpacks.

The "Stanley" now stands between us on lonely benches in the forest, filled with hot drink or minestrone, hut magic without a hut, so to speak. And: Will of course travel with us on our first trip south.