Quite a trip. We're about half an hour from landing, and I couldn't be happier at the prospect of walking right now. I managed to get about two and a half hours of sleep, so hopefully I've deceived my body enough to think it's actually 8am, rather than 1am. Here's hoping.
But then, somewhere along the line time no longer mattered. About half way through the trip, in darkness, I fell into this hideous non-time, where things just were without rhyme or reason. A little glimpse of a Chinese Hell, I think. The Hell of Not Knowing What Damn Time It Is.
So be it. I've been constantly watching the flight data they're posting on the monitors, with flight speed, miles traveled, and where we're at on te map. Wow, we're near Iceland! Wow, we're over the Channel! Wow, I can see Mannheim from here! Trying not to be googley-eyed, but it's hard. And who cares if I am? Thieves, maybe, but that's about it.
Better shore up so I can start worrying about customs.
1058am
Here I be at the Gasthof Specht, after a 100 Euro ride from the Munich airport to Aichach. The room is sparse but nice, I'm sure in the small-town Germany tradition. The hotel is just inside the South Gate of the old town, and it's already awesome. I fully plan on strolling the streets after lunch with the boss and snapping away. Tourist? Yes, at least for today. So be it.
-- End Transmission --
Reading:
DT VII
Hearing:
chatter through the window from the streets of Aichach