When I drag my sorry arse out of bed just after nine and open up my laptop, I spot two emails from Mikey. Saying he's doing down for breakfast.The first more than half an hour ago. Whoops.
I stayed up later than I intended last night, hooked on this weird Japanese series. I'm turning into a right weeb.
Mikey's baldy head is easy to spot.
"You're lucky I decided to get another bowl of fruit."
Mikey is making sure he gets his moneysworth from the buffet, working out what the cost per item is.
I done more frugally. No point filling myself up too much, when all that beer and pork awaits.
First stop is the Lidl, just up the road. Andrew left a shopping list on my computer: "Beer, korn, unique sheets." Unique sheets? What could he mean? Oh, I get it: unique sweets.
I've tipped Mikey off on the Rotkäpchen sekt. Just 2.69. He gets six bottles.
He's blown away by the prices of the spirits. I wasn't, as I know how cheap Germany is for booze.
I get half a dozen bottles of different things: bourbon, korn, doppelkorn, rum, gin. I'll let the kids decide which one they want. Hopefully, they won't choose the same one. Not forgetting Dolores, I get some cheese. The way to every woman's heart. And every man's. Some fruity gin, too.
After dumping off his stuff, Mikey drops by my room for beer and planning the day. I break open a rum. It's OK.I'm not depriving the kids of it. I've another bottle.
I pour Mikey a glass. He's keen to try it as he's bought bottle himself. From the look on his face, I can tell he isn't a fan.As if he'd like to spit it out, but is too polite.
"It's not great. Even at that price. Would you like my bottle?"
"Of course. Andrew will drink anything. If you're stupid enough to leave it lying around in the open. Dolores hides our gin."
We've a great view of the Schwebebahn, which rumbles and screeches by every couple of minutes. I've managed to get a couple of pictures.
There's even an artwork above the bed. How sweet.
On closer inspection,you notice that the front doors are open. And only one ghostly figure. What's happened to all of the passengers? And why are the doors open while it hangs on mid air, only a void below it. Creepy.
I spot that the brewery opens earlier on Saturday. 14:00 instead of the weekday 16:00.
"We could head straight there after a couple beers hers." I suggest. Mikey brought over quite a lot of the 21 cents a bottle Weissbiers in his portable fridge. It was a great offer. Austrian beer, judging by the Chinese label, originally destined for the Orient.
"It isn't that bad." I say after pouring myself another rum. Through clenched teeth. It is a bit rough.
I'm so excited. We can take the Schwebebahn to the brewery. A dream come true. And with beer at the end of it. And pork. What can top that?
But you'll have to wait until next time.