A potentially hellish 3-day weekend in the kangerhaus, averted by a trip to Kassel to see Juniper. i awoke late on Saturday, feeling too depressed to stir; however my landlady forced the matter, bursting into my room and shouting: “There is letter!” and throwing a letter at me, and then “and trouser!”, throwing a pair of my underpants at me. i don’t know where she found my pants, or what she was doing with them, but there it is. i have to hang my laundry on drying racks in the garden so i guess she stole them, or the dogs did, who knows. She then demanded that i clean the garden and the pavements outside the house.

i lay in bed for a while, feeling far too tired and grim of mood to get up, let alone to travel 400 km north. i wondered if i should cancel my trip, then felt suddenly & strangely sure that i would die if i stayed in the kangerhaus over the weekend (plus holiday on Monday). i often feel a stark, crushing force in this place, trying to suffocate me – whether it’s really there, or just how my imagination figures things, i cannot say. Certainly, i feel it.

And so i launched myself towards the train station; naturally my landlady intercepted me and started screaming “you must clean! clean this all! clean now!”. i surveyed the situation, calculating it would take at least 45 minutes to do her bidding, and said “i don’t have time.”

“Why you not have time?” she screamed.

“I have to get a train.”

“Where you go?” she screamed.


“Why you go Kassel?” she screamed.

“To see friends.”

“What you do there?” she screamed.

“See friends.”

“So! You not have time! Why you not clean before?” she screamed.

“Because I was tired because I work 12 hours a day.”

i left on this, and with difficulty got up to Kassel, leaving my suitcase on the train and so arriving bereft and utterly irritated at myself. Luckily, Juniper (in true Jason Bourne style) wears man’s pyjamas and lent me a pair, so all was well. It was good to escape Munich and see a plain, unpretentious town, and to see Juniper again.

i feel i have not found the right place in Munich; i don’t just mean the kangerhaus, it is rather that the whole city feels alien to me, glittery and interesting but not quite real, not home. In Kiel i found a good place, the local cemetery, which was usually deserted, peaceful, eerie; in Kassel, the huge Auepark, which has an uncanny feel to it, even in broad daylight, on a Sunday, full of strolling Bosche – and at dusk, it really is startlingly strange, full of crows. i felt the difference very much this weekend, walking in the Auepark with Juniper; the English Garden, in Munich, feels touristy to me, full of speeding cyclists, ice cream stands, pedalos and sunbathers, not enough crows, not enough weirdness. i need weirdness and crows, to survive.

Prompted by Juniper, i am now energetically trying to find a new flat. It can have kangaroos if need be, but no screaming Bosche.