Hoods englische Rheinkreuzfahrtsgesellschaft ist inzwischen im spätromantischen Köln angelangt. Adäquat zu mannigfaltigen kölschen Tönen und Momenten der Postmoderne spiegelt Hood das schwebend-heilige dieser ewigen Stadt in den Worten des einfachen Volkes voraus bzw. mitten in fliehende Zeiten und dereinst dem großen Verschütten anheimfallende Erinnerungen hinein: „Amung other discomfits, theres no beds in the vessles up the Rind. So, for too hole days, we have been damp shifted, as they call it, without taking off our close, and, as you may supose, I am tired of steeming. Our present stop is at Colon. They say its a verry old citty, and bilt by the Romans, and sure enuff roman noses didn`t easily turn up. The natives must have verry strong oilfactories, that`s certin. O, Becky, sich sniffs and guffs, in spite of my stuft hed! This mornin it raind cats and dogs, but the heviest showrs cant pourify the place. It`s enuff to fumigate a pleg. Won thing is the bad smells obleege strangers to buy the O de Colon, and praps the stenchis is encouraged on that account. The wust is, wen you want a bottel of the rite sort, theres so menny Farinacious impostors, and Johns and Marias, you don`t know witch is him or her. Colon is full of Sites. The principle is the Cathedrul, and by rites theres a Crane pearcht on the tiptop, like the Storks in Holland; but i was out of luck, or he was off a feeding, for he wasnt there. So we went into the Interium witch was performing Hi Mass, that`s to say, me and one of the hottel waiters, who is playing the civel, and I can onely say its enuff to turn one`s hed. Wat with the lofty pillers, and the picters, and the gelding and the calving, I felt perfeckly dizzy, but wen the sunshin came rainbowin thro the panted glass winders, and the orgin played up, and the Quire of singers with their hevinly vices, and the Priest was insensed with the perfumery, down I went, willy nilly, on both nees, and was amost controverted into a Cathlick afore I knowed were I was! Luckly, I rekollected Transmigration, witch I cant nor wont believe in, and that jumpt me up agin on my legs. Next, we see a prodigus chest, all of sollid Goold, and when you look through a little grating, you see the empty skulls of the wise kings. They`re as brown as mogany, with crowns on, and their christian names ritten in rubbies, if so be it ant red glass. For they do say, wen the Munks ran away from the Frentch, they took the goold chest, and the three wunderful wise heds, along with them, and sackreligiously pickt out the best parts of the volubles and jowls. As another peace of profannity, the hart of Mary de Medicine is left under a grave stone, in the church pavement – but where the rest of her body have been boddy snatcht to noboddy nose.“


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