exhausted mother Martha and daughter Ien
got off their bikes at Campingplatz
'Bauernhof.' Ate schnitzel Jägersoße
and drank beer from big mugs. Drank
lots of pints with people also from
Holland, from Lith. It was raining and
already late. And they got too drunk to
even put up a tent. But fortunately
they were invited to stay the night.
By the farmer, a house down the road.
Who possibly was even more drunk than
themselves. "It's not only his club foot, is it?"
To the left and right supporting Hermann,
the three staggered through the night.
calamari fritti
"Margo, your son is head over heels in love."
When switching at the station of Chiasso
Switzerland, Paul had forgotten his suitcase.
"He can think of nothing but Bea. Right Paul?"
"Her name is Eva." "They're from Este, think Dante."
And to Mo: "The daughter of the Robecchi Briquetti's,
where we stayed the last week. He was closely under
surveillance of the many brothers, even the younger
ones." "Always with their hands in those swim briefs,
they wear." Once Paul had escaped. With Eva he had
been to Rosolina Mare on the Adriatic. And there they
had eaten calamari fritti out of a fatty cone bag, hmmm.
