The Carnival Master

5.

Fabel ate on the way back to his hotel. He sat in a corner booth on the ground floor cafe-bar of an old brewery close to the cathedral, drinking the traditional Cologne beer which, like the unique dialect of the city, was called Kolsch. Kolsch was always served in the small, narrow, tube-like glasses called Stange and Fabel noticed that as soon as he drained one another was brought without him ordering it. Then he remembered it was a Cologne custom that, unless you placed your drink mat on top of the glass, you would be continually supplied with fresh Kolsch. The way he felt at that moment, Fabel found the arrangement more than satisfactory. He thought about how good it would be to sit in the cosy brewery cafe and get quietly drunk. But of course he wouldn’t. Fabel had never in his life been truly, falling-down drunk. To do so would mean losing control, allowing himself to become subject to the random, the chaotic. A waiter in a long apron appeared and said something completely unintelligible. Fabel stared at him uncomprehendingly then laughed, again remembering Cologne traditions. In a place like this the waiters were called Kobes and spoke in thick Kolsch, usually peppered with colourful phrases. The waiter grinned and repeated his question in High German and Fabel placed his order.

Cologne was so different to Hamburg. Was it possible, Fabel wondered, to change your surroundings and change yourself to suit? If he had been born here, instead of in the North, would he be a different person? The waiter arrived with his meal and a fresh glass of beer and Fabel tried to put it all from his mind. For now.