Thursday, 2 August 2012


photo by Frances Dixon
maybe this photo was by Frances?
photo by Frances Dixon

It is raining like the last time we left Berlin. We give Ana a text as she had recently moved to the city. It is nice to see all of Berlin one last time on our train ride to the station.

We are on the bottom bunks of a couchette to Munich. We tuck ourselves onto little shelves and lie on our backs in the dark compartment as lights all manner of colours and shapes flicker on the ceiling from the night through the crack in the curtains. It is like a zoetrope. It is a beautiful riot of noise and light but its frequency is hypnotic and I sleep well, though lightly.

We have a tea and a coffee in Munich and head straight back out in the direction of Lindau. Spindly legged conifers gather densely around a river, mist still collecting on its surface. The train crosses a little bridge and there is water all around.

When we get out the town is very quiet and the air is slightly bitter like it gets when winter is coming. Out at the edge of the harbour is a gate guarded by a lion and a lighthouse. Beyond them are the Alps. 

The alps are pitch black and mist hangs about them, the only thing defining them in three dimensions.

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