Ash Wednesday, morning.
Earlier, looking out from my rooftop cell, facing south, I saw that there was a little snow on the pantiled roofs below the monastery. In the distance cars pass on a road and further the pastel shades merge with the bare trees blowing in a subtle breeze. At seven I am packed and it is time for breakfast.
It's too much! I'm guided by the maître to the toilet perhaps in case I stray into the cloister proper and never come out again?
So day one begins and I'm having real trouble with eating excellent, but crusty, German bröt. Without front teeth I'm left with cutting the slice into smaller pieces I can push towards my mollars and masticate. It's impossible to rip or tear anything.
I think it's time to ablute and remove myself from this monastery/hotel - the Catholic Church will never be poor while there is this dualism going on. Such hypocrisy goes hand in hand with the rituals and devices. That everyone born into the faith doesn't question this malevolence beggars belief?
...
An hour in and I've left Fulda behind without stopping after that large breakfast up in the monastery/hotel. Now suddenly it's snowing and I'm smiling - but not at the weather only at the Way.
...
All morning the snow was driving at me slowly turning me colder, as the breakfast energy wore off and I began registering the ends of my fingers and toes were troubling me. At breakfast I realised just how much I miss my front teeth and during the morning there was a dull pain in the missing maxillary central (sheered off just below the gum line). But it's nothing. It's on the outside and I'm nearly equalised by half a roast chicken, frits and salad washed down by more of Schwarzer Hahn Landbier. Heading off shortly on the second leg of today's "etape" leaving the Gasthof Schmitt in Neuhof for Flieden and the hope of a less expensive option for this nights pilgerherbergen?
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