Latest news with #Teutonic
TimesLIVE
08-07-2025
- Automotive
- TimesLIVE
Why the Audi Q7 55 TFSI still deserves your attention
The infotainment system is starting to show its age, compared with the latest generation interfaces from BMW and Mercedes-Benz, and the one-piece backrests for the front seats also look out of place. These are fine in an RS Q8 but in a Q7 you lust for wider, cushier pews befitting the character of a cosseting SUV. Some may be disappointed to learn that the 3.0 l V6 TDI unit has been given the boot. It was hugely popular in the pre-facelift iteration of the Q7. As global, first-world markets and their more stringent emissions regulations shifting away from oil-burners, our region also feels the consequences. Your only choice is the 3.0 l turbocharged-petrol V6, denoted by the 55 TFSI moniker. If fuel economy is less of a consideration, this power source will serve you just fine. It has an alluring sound — silky and mellifluous in the way Teutonic V6 motors tend to be. Power delivery is delivered in a commensurate way; creamy smooth, with a delicious groundswell of torque that makes overtaking a cinch. Average consumption sat at 12 l /100km after a week and nearly 600km. Height-adjustable air suspension makes for an appropriately supple ride quality. There seems to be more questions than answers about Audi's strategy for the local market. A significant number of dealerships have closed down and while the brand has invested much into its high-end E-Tron electric vehicles, uptake has been slow. Rival brands have plug-in hybrids in their portfolios to support a gradual transition, which Audi does not.
Herald Sun
28-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Herald Sun
Rory Gibson on his epic chess battle that feels like war
Don't miss out on the headlines from Lifestyle. Followed categories will be added to My News. You probably wouldn't know it because the news has been hogged by the Middle East and Ukraine lately, but Australia has been embroiled in a vicious little war of its own. We've been slugging it out with Germany and I can report Australia has its foot planted on the throat of a particularly arrogant and none-too-pleasant enemy. When I say Australia I mean me, and when I say Germany I mean a bloke who calls himself Tombex. We've been representing our countries over a chess board, and it's been harrowing. I'm a member of an online chess platform that enables you to play chess with people all over the world. Tombex and I have history. Chess is a great game because it teaches you many good life lessons. The one that resonates with me most is not to make crucial decisions late at night after more than three beers. Tombex should have learned another one during our first clash last year, which is don't say anything that will lead people to suspect you're an idiot. There's a dialogue window which enables you to type messages to your opponents. During that first encounter my Teutonic foe took it upon himself to point out the weaknesses in my game without checking whether I was open to receiving his advice. I thanked him for his generosity, then set about destroying him. In the penultimate move before checkmate, I again thanked him profusely for his wisdom. I can't be sure he picked up the sarcasm. A bit like Germany after World War I, he came back for another crack at me. I felt like Churchill on the eve of the Battle of Britain. It nearly ended quickly. In only the seventh move he took my queen. It was an excellent ambush, but he couldn't help himself … he sent me a smartarse message: 'I think it is decided.' Amused by his hubris I typed a reply: 'That's what Hitler said after he invaded Poland and rolled into France.' Then I spotted his mistake. There was one move I could make that, if he responded in a particular way, I'd trap his queen and he'd be cactus. He never saw it coming. Aah, what a sweet, slow annihilation it was. As I ground him into the dust I kept asking what it was that had been decided but like the guns on the western front he'd fallen silent. For now he's off the radar, but chess inflicts deep, long-lasting wounds. He'll be back. Originally published as Rory Gibson on his epic chess battle that feels like war
New York Post
18-06-2025
- Health
- New York Post
Lock into longevity at Lanserhof Sylt, the iconic German wellness retreat
Before there was Michael Pollan and his 'intentional eating' MasterClass, before there was 'intermittent fasting' and the Wim Hof Method, there was Franz Xaver Mayr, the early-20th-century Austrian physician. His revolutionary Mayr Method was grounded in the belief that the secret to health and beauty starts in the gut. His cult-like following led to the opening of his own clinic, and, eventually, to Lanserhof, a wellness and longevity retreat at whose fourth outpost I presently find myself. Somehow by my own choosing. Arriving to the remote German island of Sylt, considered by some to be the Teutonic version of the Hamptons, if the Hamptons had fewer beach clubs and more colonics, takes some effort. Which is, of course, the point. Guests must take a four-hour train ride across the Hindenburg causeway from Hamburg to arrive at the town of List, where, among the waves and heather, Lanserhof Sylt seems to levitate above the dunes. The whisper-quiet, thatch-roofed structure (the largest of its kind in Europe) designed by architect Christoph Ingenhoven offers no check-in desk, no custom scent, no chipper guide to assuage your fears of eating only 750 calories per day. This, too, is the point. At Lanserhof, escaping the pressures of the real world, tuning your senses to your body and your environment, is also part of the treatment. 5 Lanserhof is tucked on the remote German island of Sylt. Courtesy of Lanserhof Sylt I arrived from New York depleted — existentially tired in a way that no spa day or vacation could possibly resolve. Time had no meaning, I was exhausted, unfocused, unable to sleep. Relentless deadlines, continental moves, the news cycle… it was enough to throw me into a midlife spiral that, I decided, only a week away, alone, could heal. So, no, I hadn't booked myself into Lanserhof to lose those few winter pounds (as one gentleman guest revealed) or to keep a chronic illness in check (as a sufferer of 'leaky gut syndrome' told me). I was here to sleep without meds and to enlist in Lanserhof's Longevity Program, one that would sustain my body on this mortal coil for as long as possible, in peak(ish) fitness. In other words, I was here for what Lanserhof promises at its core: a scientifically rigorous, medically monitored reset. 5 A weeklong visit at the retreat begins with a series of health tests to gauge visitors' wellness needs. Courtesy of Lanserhof Sylt The clinic's approach, the Lanserhof Cure, is rooted in what practitioners call 'Medicine 3.0' — an evolution of preventive medicine that sees aging itself as a treatable condition. That translates to personalized diagnostics, one-on-one consultations and daily interventions calibrated to your own genes, cells and metabolism. It also means that a weeklong stay begins with a series of tests (blood panels, body composition scans, a fragility score assessment) and meetings with medical directors Jan Strizke and Christina Haeggberg, who walked me through my data with clinical candor. Turns out, my vitamin D was low. My calcium, borderline. My posture? Protective. My hips and knees and shoulder were subtly rotating to shield an overworked psoas muscle — a compensation I would never have known about if not for the wizarding osteopath who, in a single session, released my lower back and relieved a steady pain I'd endured for two decades. If the diagnostics and physical therapies were hardcore, the protocols were equally so. I received an infusion of something yellow (Vitamin D?) during two CellGym sessions, designed to mimic altitude training and increase my mitochondrial health. I braved five stints in a cryo chamber chilled to -110°C, my breath slowing as the technician danced along with me outside the glass door to three-minute classics. ('Time Warp' seems to know no language barrier, and certainly speeds along the endless 180 seconds, as its title suggests.) My massage therapist insisted I was too tight for a conventional massage. 'You need abyanga,' she said. 'Something deeper.' No kidding. 5 Regimens at Lanserhof are designed to recalibrate your body, from posture to digestion. Courtesy of Lanserhof Sylt Deeper was a theme. At Lanserhof Sylt, the body is treated as a system of interdependent parts, not a series of symptoms to manage. You have to get to the cellular level to manifest change. Nutrition was no exception. I met with the clinic's quietly formidable dietitian, who analyzed not just what I ingest, but how. Her verdict: I wasn't eating enough, and when I did, it was inconsistent. Worse, I wasn't chewing properly — an offense here of almost spiritual magnitude. Dr. Mayr believed that each bite of food requires 30 to 40 chews, and, rather shamefully, Dr. Haeggberg had to teach me how to chew properly. 'Digestion begins in the mouth,' she insisted. Other beads of wisdom: No talking while eating. No water for thirty minutes on either side of a meal. Nothing but tea after supper, which should end by 7:30 pm. To ensure my colon was cleared by week's end, every day began with a swig of Epsom salts. Thank goodness I sat alone, not complaining to my table neighbors at lunch. Instead, each meal forced me to reflect on my choices, on the wind, on my relationship to food and people. Sparse but elegant, meals consisted of a dainty serving of coconut yogurt, a small plate of spelt pasta with vegan Bolognese, smoothies presented in bowls with tiny spoons. By day four, my headache and my hunger faded. My appetite recalibrated. I began to taste food again — not just consume it. It's amazing what 40 chews can do. 5 Guests work with experts to regulate their sleep schedules. Courtesy of Lanserhof Sylt Not everything was about food or fascia. I spent quality time with Heide, a therapist who gently suggested I schedule a daily 'worry window' to contain my anxiety around falling asleep. (Good sleep hygiene is critical to longevity.) Her sleep retraining strategy required me to lie in bed and observe my breath for 30 minutes, then get up and read in another room. It felt punitive at first, leaving my nerves threadbare and my body tired. But by Wednesday, my brain had learned how to self-soothe, how to surrender. Months later, I remain Ambien-free. Other than running on treadmills strapped to some tubes or sitting in on lectures about gut health or group yoga sessions, there's little to do at Lanserhof Sylt. At least, that was what I entered this journey thinking. Once my sleep and my hunger were regulated, I made myself available to nature. One day was marked by a lengthy bike ride into town. Another included a 10-mile run on the boardwalk, resisting the urge to buy a beer at a café. I read three books by the fireplace. (No electronics allowed!) One night, I sipped kombucha and watched the sky blush pink and gold as the sun melted into the sea through the glass wall, a scene so quietly introspective, it resided a world apart from offspring and deadlines. Conversations with my fellow guests — in the pool, on a morning walk, by that fireplace — were deeply personal and earnest. It was easy to forget that most of us had arrived here feeling broken, hoping 'The Lanserhof Cure' would cure us all. 5 Forcing you away from electronics and deadlines, retreat guests rediscover nature and mindfulness through holistic practices. Courtesy of Lanserhof Sylt On my final morning, confident in my newfound 'wellth,' I layered my coat over my swimsuit, stripped down, and marched into the North Sea. The sting of the salty 2°C water was instant. My extremities went numb, my core felt hot. For a full minute I fought the urge to run. Or to cry. And then, without fanfare, the pain passed. I emerged euphoric, unreasonably proud of my silly, self-imposed achievement. I can do hard things! Even sleep without meds. Even chew a bite of spelt bread 40 times. Maybe I can even live in health forever. 8-night Lanserhof Classic Plus from €4,046, not including accommodation. Rooms from €649 per night; Lanserhof
Spectator
21-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Spectator
We've underestimated Francis Rossi
I have a friend who insists that had Status Quo hailed from Düsseldorf rather than Catford, they would nowadays be as critically revered as Can, Faust, Neu! and those other hallowed Teutonic pioneers of unyielding rhythm from the 1970s. Maybe so. Very probably not. Canned Heat and ZZ Top seem more reachable comparisons. But it's true that 'the Quo' have been underestimated and unjustly derided throughout their six-decade career, not least by themselves. The band has happily perpetuated their position as rock and roll neanderthals: a 2007 album is titled In Search Of The Fourth Chord. There was always a little more to it than that. Personally, I have always divined a terrible sadness at the heart of their music. Like most court jesters, Status Quo internalise great loneliness and despair. Consider the regretful pills-and-powder sentiments of songs such as 'Marguerita Time', 'Living On An Island', 'Down Down' and 'What You're Proposing', made all the more doleful by the bleached stoicism of Francis Rossi's pinched voice. Their prototypical heads-down Ur-boogie, meanwhile, is the cosmic hamster's wheel made sound, a pitch perfect aural representation of the existential treadmill. Inelegantly billed as 'An Evening of Francis Rossi's Songs from the Status Quo Songbook and More', this two-man touring show offers a corrective to the established Quo-text, though I very much doubt that is the intention. Having lost his brother in arms, Rick Parfitt, to a heart attack in 2016, Rossi is joined by second guitarist and backing vocalist Andy Brook. Supplied with nifty Fender Acoustasonic semi-acoustic guitars, the pair perch on a couple of red easy chairs, separated by a small table adorned with a green desk lamp.
Yahoo
18-04-2025
- Automotive
- Yahoo
Pretend That Everything's Fine This Weekend With MotorWeek's '90s Retro Review Marathon
So far this year, each day seems to hold new horrors that we never would have foreseen as possible even just the day prior. Even the joy of doomscrolling through social media on your phone has been sullied by pesky news outlets talking about the latest ways that democracy is failing, so what can you do that doesn't cost any money but helps you avoid the constant onslaught of negativity and fear? If you're anything like me, then maybe you'll find solace in the soothing baritone voice of John Davis at MotorWeek guiding aging car enthusiasts like us on a gentle and peaceful stroll down memory lane with its Retro Reviews. If you're looking for a way to occupy your time this weekend that mitigates, rather than contributes to the sense of impending doom, tune into the MotorWeek YouTube channel for a non-stop marathon of its retro car reviews, this time ranging in date from 1990 to 1999. Read more: These Are Your Favorite Factory Exhaust Designs One of my favorite things about these single-decade Retro Review marathons is watching how drastically car technology, design, and performance changed and improved over the decade, and the nineties saw exponential growth in each of those areas. Heck, even the Teutonic stalwart Porsche 911 underwent arguably its most drastic changes in the decade, transitioning away from its air-cooled roots and hurtling into the future with the engineering wizardry of liquid cooling. MotorWeek video reviews have the unique trait of being consistent over the course of decades, so there are virtually no surprises in these episodes which is good for our overstimulated 21st century brains. And unlike all of the videos in the MotorWeek Retro Reviews playlist on YouTube, these are complete episodes that include segments beyond the always-entertaining road tests. The full episodes really transport you to simpler times through coverage of auto shows when they were in their prime, and other very retro segments. So go ahead, reminisce a bit this weekend and tune in to MotorWeek's 1990s Retro Review Marathon. Want more like this? Join the Jalopnik newsletter to get the latest auto news sent straight to your inbox... Read the original article on Jalopnik.
