:Dieter Tsitra left his flat in the Lindenstraße, a street in the "Belgisches Viertel" (Belgian Quarter) right in the centre of Cologne. He hadn' t been to other European countries for ages. But that day he was going to take the "Thalys" to Brussels and would then set off to Dublin by plane, the final destination was Achill Island at the west coast of Ireland.

He actually preferred travelling in Germany. North Germany was his favourite region. He liked the rough North Sea, the reserved - say cautious - people on the islands like Norderney, the loveliest of the East Frisian Islands, he thought. The long, dark island winter nights made the residents rather superstitious and suspicious concerning social changes. "Der Schimmelreiter" (The Ghost Rider) a novel by Theodor Storm deals with that phenomenon. He wondered whether Achill Island had a similar literary tradition and geographic character. The cultural heritage of the Irish island - as the name indicates - must have some interesting legends that reflect its history and social conditions. Feeling the cold but sunny winter wind in his face, with his backpack on his back and his guitar in his left hand, he was very happy to flee Carnival. Dieter had put on two jumpers because he didn't want to carry too much. Ireland was fairly cold at that time of the year. He had to hurry, there was only 1 hour till the train was departing to Brussels and he didn't even have a ticket. Within 5 minutes he arrived at the "Hahnentor" (Cocks' Gate), a gateway of the medieval town wall of which only rudiments had survived.

He could see the two significant towers of the Cathedral, the "Domspitzen", passed the three well-known museums and arrived at Cologne Central Station. He went straight to the tourist centre, knowing that he had still three quarters of an hour left until the "Thalys" would leave. But when he entered the hall, he realized that it would take ages to get a ticket. Long queues at every counter, 6 counters were open. The outfit of the central station had changed dramatically. From a shabby old station into a flash modern Metropolitan station.

While waiting in the queue, Dieter wondered whether he would ever arrive on Achill Island. A few meters further down the hall two little boys were having lots of fun running round and laughing their heads of. The smaller one was wearing sport shoes that were amazing, with every step he made the red light on his feet started flashing. Dieter hadn't seen anything like that before. "These shoes are made for flashing", he changed the words of a famous song. The parents of the boys were also waiting in a queue to buy tickets or get some information. They were looking lost. When Dieter listened to what they said, he realized that they spoke Indonesian, a language he naturally couldn't understand but was familiar with its melody. It brought back memories of a holiday on Java and Bali many years ago. He recalled the beguiling melody of their language like the Gamelan-music and the fire dance he had seen on Bali. He somehow felt sorry for this Indonesian family because they had to cope with such a harsh climate and strange culture. They had to cope with everyday German life, he was going to spend a holiday in Ireland. A completely different story.

He got his ticket, glanced at his watch: fifteen minutes left. He decided to stroll through the new station and was attracted by the books displayed in the shop window of "Ludwig", a bookshop. Photographic and architectural high gloss books. "I can' t affor..." Suddenly Dieter felt a very painful jerk in his right leg and found himself lying on his back. He immediately felt for his guitar, it was still there and in one piece. A woman was kneeling next to him saying: "I am terribly sorry, I am so sorry, how could that happen?" She seemed to suffer from a shock. Dieter did not. He was furious, just about to get violent. " How could that happen?" , Dieter asked the young woman, got up and touched his shin which felt terribly bruised. "I, I, I" She took a deep breath: "I was skating on my skateboard along the hall and just couldn't control the speed any more. When I saw you, it was too late, I just couldn't brake. I am terribly sorry." "I mean why are people allowed to use a skateboard if they cannot handle it? It's like a fighting dog without a muzzle, an extreme danger for pedestrians," Dieter said with a trembling voice. " I have to hurry, my train to Brussels leaves in 3 minutes," he screamed at her. "Mine too" , he could hardly understand her. Did she say same train, hopefully not the same carriage , he thought. "Quick, quick!" Dieter limped up the stairs to platform number 10, heard the young woman panting behind him. "That fucking bitch nearly ruined my trip to Ireland." Before him was the smart Thalys . Nearly all passengers had embarked then, except for two guys carrying guitar and drum with them (The guy with a pony tail, Steve and Peter, Welcome to Hamburg...). Seeing the two musicians and the Thalys waiting for him he recalled a slogan he had seen in the tourist centre before: Thalys: The re-discovery of travel pleasure. "I hope so!", he exclaimed.