Were it possible to arrest the weather, I would like to handcuff his rainy clouds and pre-emptively lube him up for Prison life just for the audacity of creating Rainy Sundays. There is something one must understand about Heidelberg, and maybe other bits of Germany, everything shuts down on a Sunday. Full system reboot. “What? We could have commerce and an active lifestyle on the last day off before work again? Who the fuck do you think you are?” So the only thing that comes naturally would be to travel, go to the river and relax or just meet up. But when it pours with rain, you can count those off the list along with their hourly bus services.
A delightful experience occurred nonetheless, whilst writing out the unnecessarily complicated plotline for the next piece I hope to actually start properly, an urge of frustration took over and I prepared to head downstairs, offering money and crocodile tears in the hope of some internet. However, only having 50euro notes on me, I knocked next door to ask if they had change, which turned into a conversation, which turned into banter which turner into dinner. Gathering foods from each of our respective rooms, the three of us, Andrea and her boyfriend who lives in the adjacent flat (whose name escapes me, shameful) sat down to a late, delicious dinner. In such a vastly spread out town, spontaneity such as that is rare, was a brilliant, calm end to the evening.
It has also been confirmed that I speak German with a French accent.
The rest of the week has been one of different experiences, from the introduction of Villa Nachttanz, coupled with about an hour wandering through Wieblingen after we got off at the wrong stop. Throw in a few ghetto style barbecues under the bridge and it’s been a good week.