Fifteen years in a childhood paradise

Clutching my bag in one hand, and the door rail with the other, I wanted to make sure that this time it was not my fault that Horst and Bernd's coach won again.

The breaks squeaked, Günter opened the door. "Don't kill yourself" shouted Günter, when I followed him on to the runner board.

I couldn't see where Horst and Bernd were, as I had to hang on to the rail. The platform was still a few meters away, but it was approaching fast. I knew I couldn't jump out at the speed we were still travelling. The breaks were squeaking louder, then I jumped. Günter was there too, and we both ran as fast as we could to where Franz was waiting with the two horses and the coach.

Our coach waiting at the station

"Quick, Franz, today we must win," shouted Günter, and off we went. "Whip the horses, come on!"

They went straight into a gallop. We looked back and saw the Strykowo coach hard on our heals. Their horses were better than ours, but this time we had the advantage of being off first. They tried to pass us, but suddenly there was an ox-cart on the road, and Horst, who by now had taken over the reigns from Walek, had to pull in the reins whilst we went full speed ahead. We had to turn to the right at the highway. There was no traffic coming and we were around the corner before Horst.

"Hurray, we won!" we both shouted and threw our arms up in victory.

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