The rainbow never sets

I also met Günter's old school friend, Hans Zipper, who had visited us in Sapowice many times. He asked me lots of questions about Günter, but I just had to say that he was still missing. As we had both grown older we no longer had the same closeness as before, but it was good to be able to talk about the good old days in Sapowice. The members of Tante Else's boarding house were also there. Many were married and had families, yet the old bond was still in evidence and we enjoyed our time together very much. This was to be the last time I attended one of those re-unions, which continued to meet annually for fifty years.

After the re-union I dropped Bernd and Ingrid off at their home and continued on the Autobahn to Vienna. After some sight-seeing there, I turned south over the border into Yugoslavia. I left my car at Zagreb and caught the train to Skopje, where I arrived in the early hours one morning. The hotel I had booked wasn't ready for me yet, as it was too early, and they claimed they had no spare room, so I had to sleep in a chair in the lounge until the first guests checked out. It seemed a long night. Then came the visit to the mill, and again I had plenty of time to fill in.

There was not much to be seen, but one feature of Skopje struck me as unusual. In the afternoons, as it was getting dark, the whole population seemed to be ambling along the main thoroughfare of Skopje in their Sunday bests. They did not go shopping, nor did they turn in at pubs or cafes, but their sole aim seemed to be to show themselves to the rest of town. Some people would meet friends or relatives and walk with them. It was a social event, which was repeated night after night, in the balmy evenings of the summer months. The reason for this could have been that it was very hot during the day and their flats were so hot, that it was far more pleasant to amble outdoors than to be sitting inside. It certainly was something unique, which I had not observed anywhere else.

Back at Zagreb I picked up my VW and went via Trieste, crossing the border into Italy. visiting clients at Prato (near Florence) and Biella, situated at the southern end of the Alps. At Domodossola my car went on a train through the Simplon Tunnel until Bern in Switzerland.

It is difficult to describe Switzerland in a few words. Everything looked so clean, and being surrounded by high mountains which one could almost touch, I felt a sense of unreality, like looking at a model town from close up. I spent the night in Bern and picked up a hitch-hiker from England, who was on his way home. I dropped him at the border of Holland. He helped me to make the trip more interesting, as it was a long drive and I was getting tired.

In Holland I wanted to visit the mother of Len van den Hout, my friend from Sydney who had sold me his motor scooter. He told me that his mother did not speak any German, but if I spoke German very slowly, she would answer in Dutch. He assured me that we would understand each other. To my utter astonishment it worked!

304