escapism

Whilst this constitutional, undemocratic crisis is inducing waves of nausea and a lot of 'what the fuck', I transport my tired mind back to a Kölner balcony, on a late summer evening, with an ethereal golden light breaking through the broken clouds of a brewing storm. Sat on wooden chairs, drinking €2 sekt left in our apartment, drunk from the bubbles and happiness and the easy-going spirit of this city on the banks of the Rhein. Bliss. Peace. Contentment.
This was only yesterday. But after 2 trains, a plane and 2 coaches, it feels stolen from another life.
Cologne was a city of no expectation. Booked because flights were cheap, because time had run out to consider other options. Why are you going to Cologne? was the response of disdain.
But I would have spent 3 days no where else, with no one else.
It was replete with kölsch and cider and picnics on grass and beautiful churches and a very good friend. Art and pastries, sushi, laughter, content silence, German music, feminist literature, all drenched in August sun.
So different from other holidays, so different from other cities, it was relaxed and spontaneous, a welcome change from militant schedules nd rushed excursions.
I was, for once, happy wandering, letting the days drip away a little drunk, drifting between park and church, thrift shop and cafe, bar to bar.

Cologne itself is effortlessly cool. Its so German, a little rough looking, modern, edgy, aesthetic. Its bursting with cafes, bars, shops, restaurants, all of which you could spend hours perusing and consuming, especially in the Belgian quarter. Its quiet but bustling with locals, and is so friendly and welcoming of 2 girls who could say little more than guten tag. I think we even pulled off being German (maybe). Man, I already dream of wandering those streets again, searching out kaffee und kuchen, or our next bar, in the most effortless peace.

Highlights include:
Sitting in the apartment, and on the balcony, drinking, talking about boys (lol cliche), and Oxford, and our relationships with a mums, and whether we'd be happy to die now.
The Cathedral
St Martin the Great church
Reading feminist books by the Rhine, drinking cider and soaking up the sun
Breakfast on the first morning
Eating sushi
The first evening in Hiroshima-Nagasaki park
The sun 

I'd like to live in Germany, I think. Anywhere other than fucking Britain. Fuck. Me. I hope you're all holding out in this madness. Its unconstitutional. Undemocratic. But not unprecedented. Of course it was going to happen.
Transport yourselves to somewhere sunny, on a balcony reading, with no where to be, nothing to do, but be there. Present. Content.