is now a standardised awfulness.

 The day starts with the sunlight reflected from the sky, the sun is not yet up. Go downstairs to the toilet, but then return to bed, for there is no point in repeating the performance of the other day. Remain in bed until seven, then get up and go down to the bathroom, shower, then make breakfast and then return to the room. Everything is good now, all is well. 

Put day clothes on and gather the documents necessary for the officials at the polling place in the sons old school. It is still early, there are few people on the streets this Sunday. The way to the polling place is clearly marked with photocopied arrows on office paper. Inside are three helpers at a table, go to the nearest. She takes the paper, says that she needs no ID, and hands over the ballot sheet. This has thiry four entries, and contains instructions saying that the voter may make one cross.

Go to the cabin, make the cross, go back to the officials and insert the folded paper in the ballot box. All is done, say goodbye.

On the street again, see that there are now quite a few people making their way to the voting place.

It was good to be early.

Go on down to the café, meeting a man driving a tuned up Landrover on the way. He is leaving his wife off at his house, we chat. The machine does not sound like a landrover, the engine issues a constant whine. It is a more modern version than the brothers, it has a turbine to load the air into the engine. The car is dressed to the hilt, as if it should cross the Sahara.

The cafe has the usual crowd of mumbling Germans in for breakfast, it will become necessary to find another place to have a coffee in. They now have a fully automated coffee maker, the coffee is now a standardised awfulness.