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Another Train Station at Dawnby Charlie
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Another train station at dawn. But it's Munich, the sky is crytalline clear, the Bavarian air is warm as a kiss, and already, as though we were transported on a time-machine, Bavarians in lederhosen and derndels are starting to mill about the station. What the hell?
It's Oktoberfest and somewhere Kev is waiting for our call. Except the number I had for Jim's place isn't working now, nor is David's parents' number. We're too tired to know what to do, but David has told me about a beautiful park not far from here and we need the sleep. We'll find Kevin in a couple hours. We don't quite make it to the English garden we're looking for, but there's a nice patch of grass on the corner of two boulevards and the sun feels sweet, so we sit, and lay, and we're gone in a minute.
'Til the drums came.
First in a dream, and then louder as I wake, and rise, and fuck if the Oktoberfest parade isn't materializing right there before us. Thousands of cartoon lederhosen-clad bavarian freaks banging drums and oompahing out on tubas, whipping horses and hoisting pitchforks and colossal tankards of brew at 9:30 in the freaking morning.
So much for the sleep. We found our park. Lazed away a unbelieveably perfect Sunday by the river dozing and trying to reach Jim. No answer, bad number, voice mail, no answer, and it's getting late. But like he do, Kev picks it up in the nick of time. Our friend awaits. |
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