»This double room costs 55 euros per person; do you want it?«

  »What? For this storage room?« my boyfriend, the actor, whispers to me.

  »The toilet and shower are in the corridor. There’s no breakfast. We’re not the Hilton or the Ritz«, the Bavarian lady, who is already getting on in years, tells us.

  »What do you think, Elvira?« my boyfriend wants to know.

  »Let’s take the room for one night first«, I suggest. »I don’t feel like looking for anything else at the moment. I need a refreshment break.« We agree.

  »Where do people meet here in the evening?« Klaus wants to know from the lady.

  »In the church. Mass is about to start at 6 p. m.«

  »Oh, I mean dancing, partying, drinking, and so on?«

  »This isn’t Sylt or Rimini!«

We explore the small village around half past six. Night is gradually falling, but Klaus does not take off his sunglasses so as not to be recognized. We discover an inn and go inside, sitting alone in the bar for a while. Shortly after seven, guests finally appear, probably fresh from church. Less than an hour later, most of them had already disappeared again. At half past nine, there are no more customers except for us, and Klaus wants to have another wheat beer, but the inkeeper serves us the bill instead. »I’m closing now«, he says.

  That’s too early for us, and Klaus asks, »Where else is there anything going on here?«

  »Nowhere«, replies the landlord, »everyone has to go to church tomorrow at six in the morning. This isn’t Sylt or Rimini.«

It is dark outside now; streetlights do not seem to be a thing here. Giggling, we walk back to the guesthouse through the sleeping village. »If nothing is going on here, then we’ll do something«, Klaus says to me with a grin when we arrive. In our room on the second floor, my friend suddenly tears open the window and yells like hell: »HI, FOLKS!!! EVERYONE, WAKE UP NOW!!! YOUR JESUS HAS COME!!!«

  Lights go on all over the village. Next door, someone is banging frantically on the wall and shouting, »Quiet, you idiot!!! This isn’t Sylt or Rimini!!!«

The next morning, our landlady made it very clear to us that this was a decent place and that we should move out immediately. We wanted to anyway. So we take our luggage and go to the car. What’s that? The windshield wipers are broken off, there’s a stinking cowpat in the middle of the hood, and the right side window is smashed. Klaus opens the driver’s door and discovers a note on the passenger seat.

  »What does it say?«, I ask him.

  »Get out of this place, you scum!«

  My commentary on this: »Come on, darling, let’s get out of here. Let them find another Jesus for their passion play. There’s sure to be a new role for you soon. Here we are in the deep valley of the ultra-Catholics!«