The Thing Itself
“The first year of a new century, and the twelfth day of April: bright sunshine. How could it be anything other than auspicious? A sky so flawless a blue it looked as though enamelled and polished from horizon to horizon by the celestial jeweller Himself. From Cologne to Mayence we were travelling aboard the saloon-steamer Deutscher Kaiser. The journey upstream took us twelve hours, although the guidebook assured us the return voyage downstream takes as little as seven and a half. No man may dou...bt the muscular implacability of the Rhenish flow here, close as it is to the North Sea. Albert and I sat on deck all morning smoking cigars and watching the green landscape slide beautifully past, green as emerald, green the ideal ocean of the fairy tales. Albert particularly admired (he said) the view of distant hills, and behind them the spectral white of faraway mountain tops. I preferred the nearby vineyards. By seven we disembarked into Mayence.
We took adjoining rooms – with, of course, a connecting door – in the Hof Von Holland, located upon the Rheinstrasse.MoreLess
We took adjoining rooms – with, of course, a connecting door – in the Hof Von Holland, located upon the Rheinstrasse.MoreLess
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