Arnon Grunberg

Burned plastic


Et voilà: my bed in Bonn. I’m willing to give this bed a 6. The hotel is called “Universitäts Gästehaus” part of the “Uni Club Bonn”.
The room is spacious but mostly empty. The smell of burned plastic permeates the hallway, the room itself and the bathroom.
This afternoon I went to Bad Neuenahr with my companion. When I was three I spent a summer with my parents and my sister in Bad Neuenahr. My mother loves to declare that she was happy in Bad Neuenahr. (She loves to declare that she was happy in Auschwitz as well, so I’m not sure what to think of her happiness. Thank god when I called her this evening she was unhappy as always. A good sign: It means that she is healthy.)
My companion and I had lunch in a restaurant called Die Bayerische Botschaft. Highly recommended to anybody who enjoys observing older German couples with a healthy appetite for geese.
I ordered goose soup, but I could not taste the difference between goose soup and chicken soup, canned chicken soup that is.
But I will definitely go back to Die Bayerische Botschaft in Bad Neuenahr. There is no better trigger for healthy melancholy than a successful, old-fashioned restaurant in the German province.