Frau Alpert decided to go on holiday and go on holiday with me. I watched her make up her mind where to go to, at first faraway places such as Hawaii, the Himalayas, Patagonia, Lapland, Perth and so forth. But no, she decided to take me somewhere very special, to a place no one goes to, to a decaying seaside town.
It was really awful. It was empty, it was dirty, it was broken down, it was wonderful. I could go on and on, and use words like exquisite or decadent or charmingly disgusting. Main thing, we were there, Frau Alpert and me.
We walked along the seafront and examined the signs of decay: the disused swimming pool full of rubble, the broken railings, the pile of broken deckchairs that had been there for years, the burnt out pier half collapsed into the water, the abandoned shops, the dead seagulls. Oh, we had so much fun.
We ate fish and chips out of newspaper, first the salt and then the vinegar, dark malt vinegar of course. Oh, the smell of the sea, the seaweed and the vinegar.
I got really right into Frau Alpert, as deep as I could go. It is true, I can go into her mind, my home is in her mind. It is not true that she gave me everything soon after we met. The truth is that she gave me her body and her mind soon after we met AND that she keeps on giving me her body and her mind. She has given me the most valuable things that she has. She gives and keeps giving. I am so in love.