Time for the Rhine

It was seven o'clock of a very warm evening in the Seeonee hills when Father Wolf woke up from his day's rest, scratched himself, yawned, and spread out his paws one after the other to get rid of the sleepy feeling in their tips.

It's a good day at the conference. There's lots of interesting sessions, plenty of people to meet, and seemingly endless food. Eventually the day is done and it's time for the conference party.

Aslak and I walk through the evening city to the Rhine. We proffer our ticket and board the river boat. It's huge. On the top deck, open to the sky, champagne is served and a saxophonist serenades the milling multitude.

The night unfolds as you might expect, as the boat chugs calmly down the river. The city creeps past, replaced by more rural vistas and, then, darkness

It's warm. There's a breeze. Dinner is served. People dance.

At some point the boat turns around and we head back to Köln. The party continues, but I'm done. I walk the streets to the Mauritius quarter, unlock the door, and climb the welcoming stairs to the comfort of private space and sleep.