… here at some point to wonder where I went to during the night, what I was up to and, more importantly, who came with me to do it.
But I’m afraid that you are going to be disappointed.
Last night was what they would call a “nuit blanche” around where I live – a night where I didn’t sleep at all. And I don’t know why but I was tossing and turning all the way through without dropping off to sleep for a moment.
Consequently there was nothing whatever to report.
When the alarm went off I was out of bed quite quickly and after a shower I went downstairs to meet Hans for breakfast.
After breakfast we went to our rooms to prepare to sally forth to meet everyone else.
There is one thing in this world that no matter how rich and famous you are, no-one else can do for you. And so while I was thus engaged, there was a knock on my bedroom door and thinking that it was Hans, I let loose a torrent of vulgar abuse and vitriol, only to find when I opened the door that it was the cleaner.
That’s what I call an omelette sur le visage moment.
At the railway station we met Jackie and then Alison immediately afterwards, and then we came back here for Alison to register for her room and dump her stuff.
Finally, everyone being assembled, we all set sail for the town.
Firstly we stopped for a coffee and then set sail down the Rhine for an hour. It had stopped snowing by now and although it was freezing cold, it was a reasonable day.
When we came back we went for another coffee at this expensive place that Jackie knows and everyone else had a slice of cake – the best cakes in this part of Germany so we had been told, and they agreed with that description.
And then we hit the shops. Alison had quite a list of what she wanted and Jackie wanted some stuff too. And Cologne is the place to come for that kind of stuff.
Back here to drop off everyone’s purchases and a little “relax” for half an hour, time that Jackie and I spent chatting about old times and then out for a meal.
On our travels during the day we’d seen a “vegetarian Indian restaurant” and that was our stop for the evening. And on entering, I knew that it was going to be good judging by the number of Indian people dining here.
No place for tourists this.
And I was right too. This was one of the best Indian meals that I’ve ever had outside Stoke on Trent and I shall be putting the toilet roll in the fridge tonight.
Across the road to the pub afterwards for drinks and a chat, and listen to the music on the pneumatic accordion and tuba before coming home to the hotel and sticking Jackie on a tram.
Alison was having no end of difficulty with her room and her internet and there wasn’t an awful lot that I could do to help unfortunately.
At least I managed to write up my notes and prepare myself for bed. But that won’t be for a while as I have Hawkwind on the playlist again and it’s the kind of music that I’m in the mood.
Ich weiss night wass ich sagen sollde.
