Day 1 – Departure
Monday, 19th June
Some people are insanely excited when they travel. I am the calm myself.
When I woke up at 5.00 am yesterday, I was at operating temperature. 5.00 am is a really stupid time to wake up. There's nothing going on. Everybody's asleep. When you send messages, it takes hours to get the first reply. It's annoying.
Around 7.00 am, however, I got bored in bed. No one had contacted me. So I got up. Because there was really nothing going on, I put on my jogging clothes out of desperation and started running.
It was a completely new experience for me. At that time of day, I only met people with dogs or people pushing a roaring pram. This group of people was therefore not on the road voluntarily. They were under dog or child compulsion, so to speak.
Thoughtfully, I walked on. I wondered what this said about me.
Probably that I have an inner child and an inner dog that wake me up at 5.00 in the morning.
I'll keep the child. As soon as it hits puberty, I take terrible revenge. But what do I do with the dog? If I take him to the animal shelter, they'll call an ambulance right away. Then I sit in a cell with the two of them and am helplessly at their mercy. Maybe I could get the child to take the dog for a walk so I can go back to sleep? Even at the end of the round, I had no solution to the problem.
When I got home, everyone was awake. I could have stayed at home.
I showered, we had breakfast, then I filled the water reservoirs of the flower pots.
Hmm? Was there anything else?
Oh, yes. Right. Packing!
Matthias had already carried all the suitcases upstairs. Our bedroom was in chaos. I fought my way through the mountains of suitcases to my wardrobe and asked if I could use one of the suitcases or if they were all already planned.
No, I would have free choice.
Gingerly, I remarked that a pre-selection could have already taken place in the basement. I don't want to be petty. After all, there are many packing techniques, and I am by no means the supreme packing authority.
Could have been, Matthias conceded. But in the cellar you can never check how many of the suitcases we offer a home to will even survive a journey.
I had to agree with him. However, I don't think Sunday morning on a departure day is the best time to check. I can carry out such considerations in silence. Not a muscle in my face betrays what I am thinking either.
The fact that all the suitcases withstood the inspection promoted family peace. So most of them were allowed back to their usual place, where they diligently collect dust and cobwebs. I assume this is for camouflage purposes.
Around 1 pm we were ready and drove off. After a short while Matthias received a phone call. I had left my mobile phone at home. So we went back again. On our second attempt we made it to the airport in Weeze. I've experienced things differently. I'm insanely good at forgetting things. That's why we always leave very early.
Weeze is west of Coesfeld, but still in Germany. That's why I always find it fascinating that a journey to Weeze takes almost two hours. It's only 40 minutes to Holland. How can that be? My guess is that a star architect lived out his creativity to the full when designing the route. So when I took off, I wanted to pay close attention to see if there was much asphalt around Weeze. But the watchfulness was in vain, because the weather protected the architect. We flew through a thick layer of clouds and then had a clear view of a sea of clouds.
Solving this mystery had to be postponed. The mobile phone of my seat neighbour captivated me. It's like seeing someone picking their nose. You know exactly what horror awaits you, but you can't look away.
But I looked away when Mick and Linda asked us to get off. The suitcases were already on the baggage carousel and the plane was needed again, they had to go back to Weeze now.
Some people are hectic. I am not one of them. I am calm myself.