Return of the lone wolf
I met Rainer again. This time in his home in Düsseldorf. For those of you, who have no idea who this kind gentleman is, I met him in Brno and wrote about him a month and a half ago. You can read ‘Rainer and the lone wolf’ here.
Rainer lives in a small first floor apartment in the center of Düsseldorf situated east of the river Rhein. On the phone from Maastricht, when he realized I was coming over, he laughed of excitement. Him and I laugh a lot. He loves to tell me about who I am, he emphazises his points with gestures (in example he gets up from his chair every time he talks about my cycling, keeps his arms and moves his legs like he’s on a bicycle and even talks like he’s exhausted) and his reaction to my stories is mostly “Der Peter, Der Peter”, while he calmly shakes his head and smiles.
Rainer had a huge bed ready for me, when I arrived and then he took me out for dinner – and also insisted on taking me out for breakfast the next morning, though he himself never eats that time of day.
I never found out what Rainer is doing during a normal day, but he keeps both the local Rheinischen Post and Die Welt (“the world’s best newspaper!”), so he must spend a lot of time reading. This October he has his first English lesson because he’s still dreaming of going to Australia. There’s no family left, so nothing keeps him in Düsseldorf, he says. If he goes, he might stay for good.
When I was heading out after breakfast next morning, Rainer went into the kitchen and came back with two glasses of what looked like soy or almond milk. But no.
- It is a magic mixture. For cyclists, he said before bending over and more than firmly slap both my calfs. And then we synchronically emptied our glasses.
The great irony of this is that I only made it 50 kilometers north before I had to stop with what a very bright doctor-to-be diagnosed as shin splinters. I already felt it coming the day I went to Düsseldorf, and of course it has nothing to do with Rainer or his magic mixture.
Still, I’m not gonna tell him.