Show Me The Way To The Next Loony Bin ...

I'm sitting in this cab which is supposed to take me to hospital. I could have taken a train, of course, and sent the luggage ahead - but then I don't trust the postal services. What if my suitcase got lost? And me walzing about in a hospital gown for the next six weeks? No way! So I got me a cab.

The driver is my best friend's brother who is happy to get custom in these difficult times. We don't know each other, not having met before, ever, so we sit in silence. I have to wear a face covering and sit on the back seat anyway which further disencourages conversation.

I'm used to not talking anymore. There seems to be only one subject these days and most people seem to have a very decided opinion on the matter. Woe betide you if you don't share this particular opinion of which there seem to exist only two: Pro or contra strict corona measures.

I'm an artist. I challenge fixed structures, both of mind and matter. I'm looking forward to being amongst people again, though, I muse, as the city traffic moves by my window. Lots of cars on the roads on this Tuesday morning. Shouldn't they be at work by now? The drivers, of course, not the cars. What kind of work could cars do? One becomes funny if one is alone for too long.

Will the Corona rules be very strict?
Will my room be nice and quiet?
Will there be nice folks in my group?
What does psychotherapy with a face mask feel like?
Lots of questions in my mind.

Meanwhile we reached the autobahn. Here, too, an amazingly high number of cars. What business do that many people have on the autobahn in an ordinary workday? Surely they can't all be salesmen about to peddle their goods?

The traffic becomes thinner as we get off the autobahn and wind our way across the country lanes in Upper Bavaria. I admire the way my driver seems to know exactly where we are going.

The year before, my brother drove me and he didn't have the faintest most of the time despite using GPS on his phone - which in the end led us to a nicely decorated frontyard full of ceramic hens and grinning dwarfs and proudly announced: You have now reached your destination. Well ... not quite.

This year, however, I already know most of Bad Endorfs roads and can guide my driver directly to the clinic doors. Which of us is gladder to be finally rid of the other, I will never know.