diagnosis: cabin fever

This one time, the Czech and I went on an Alpine Adventure, during which I got catastrophically ill. (Not really that bad, just liked the word. I couldn't breath though, that's for sure.) We got back to the Rhineland and I locked myself in my bed, emerging only to do laundry. By the end of the week, the Czech and I had date night and I felt so much better.

Then I woke up on Saturday and didn't leave the house again until this morning, Monday morning. Cabin fever is an understatement for what I was feeling. I needed air and exercise and a change of scenery.

During my incarceration, I read nonstop. We came abroad with a pretty sizable stack of books, but I'm running out and Germans really don't like English and the English library is closed for the summer to get the roof fixed and...and...I needed help.

So today, I got showered and dressed and left the house before I could realize how ridiculous my hair looked or ponder over how comfortable my bed really is. I took the bus into "town" and realized that my plan to find a cafe there wasn't going to suffice. I didn't want to go to "town", I wanted the city! In a spurt of adventurism, I took a tram I usually don't headed downtown in the pursuit of a bookstore I had barely read about that supposedly contained English books. It was a long shot, but I was out of the house and up to the challenge.

As a matter of luck and a couple of wrong turns, I found the bookstore. The only way to describe this place is a veritable maze of half floors constructed by the mind, I can only assume, of M.C. Escher. In a town where even large stores are relatively small, this store went on forever. I kept taking turns, discovering more books that I wished I could read. There was a cafe, a giant children's section, calendars, films, art history books, antique books, vintage prints, and so much more. I'm nearly positive that a staircase might have shifted a time or two like it was Hogwarts, but maybe it was just the magic of the place that made me believe it was time.

Around one mystical corner, I found a wall lined with English books. Once I got past the rather hilarious section devoted to the recent wedding of Kate and Will, I found a surprisingly healthy selection of books ready to be read. I perused and found a couple to my liking (i.e. I wanted to read and could afford them). Walking out of this store, I felt like I had left German heaven.

I wandered the streets of town again, past shops I had seen, ready to find a cafe and read. No ordinary cafe was going to suit me though. I needed character. Ambiance. In short, I needed nature.

I stumbled across a fresh market I never knew existed and past a home goods store, rounded the corner at the Ceramics Museum, and stopped at the river. This was it. Sunny day? Nice breeze? Bag full of good books? River? Done.

An obliging cafe had open tables on a patio along the riverbank. After being inside for so long, sitting along that river, drinking cocoa, reading and eating an absolutely delectable piece of cake, it felt like being at the ocean. The breeze was right, the surroundings peaceful, and all was well with the world. I read my book about Americans in nineteenth century Paris while listening to barges shuffle up and down the Rhine.

It was a long tram ride home, but there were fresh brotchen waiting for me at the bakery. I'm planning a picnic along the Rhine tomorrow, so long as the weather holds out. Sun and a good breeze hold magical healing properties.