The chronicler has arrived. In this famous city, like millions before him long ago with few belongings and many dreams, millions today with better luggage and little time, and he with a mummy and a 4.4 kg rucksack.
With a mummy and the essentials still in the cosmopolitan city of Bünde
Now he has to deliver. Well, you can't expect much on the first day: he also has to familiarise himself first. Actually, there was no time. After Delta Airlines had delivered him to J.F Kennedy Airport with precision and the best of care, the entry into the country was a medium disaster. Never before had the chronicler queued for so long. For over two hours, he and hundreds of others pushed their way to one of the fifty immigration counters. Once he had reached the hotel by Skytrain and underground, he had to continue straight away. He had an opera ticket.
Because an underground train wasn't running due to the Mayanance, he jumped into a taxi for the last few metres and had to grin as steam billowed out of the gullies in the heart of the city. He wondered whether this had a real background or was simply made for the tourists. As soon as the first sound began, he plopped down into the velvety red armchair.
Actually, you reward yourself at the end, but he probably won't be coming back any time soon. It was at the Royal Opera House in London over twenty years ago that he discovered his belated fondness for beautiful operas in beautiful opera houses. So he thought he would pay a visit to the Met, the opera house in New York.
The Met
They are playing the most frequently performed opera in the world there, just in time for him: Carmen, and he hasn't seen it yet. To cut a long story short, the house is impressive, the audience a colourful mix, but Carmen didn't come after his cap. A stage set in the present day of some fictitious violent state. So he closed his eyes and enjoyed the incredibly pure, fine music. How do you manage to be so perfect in terms of space and as a multi-part ensemble?
During the interval, he plucked up his courage at Natalia and Victor. Victor gave him two short lectures on why Mr Biden knows everything better and why Mr Trump will not be convicted by the court. The chronicler asked again about Jesus. Yes, no, you can't mix politics and religion, Natalia agreed. Neither of them understood the intention or the chronicler asked awkwardly. But it was still fun.
Natalia, Victor willingly with the chronicler
He had already tried it on the plane with the people sitting next to him, mum and daughter from Germany. But the daughter had no opinion at all and the mum only had an opinion on Trump, whom she didn't think was sane.
If the underground to the opera uptown was packed, it was packed on the way back after midnight. An old traffic monster, screeching loudly as it eats its way through the more than hundred-year-old rivet constructions. He can only guess that he is travelling through the heart of the city from the wagon´s lettering.
Under the centre
Bye, bye.
