Early in the small hours of the morning on May 27, the day before Whitsun, I was rudely stirred (at my own request) and told to get up. It was however, an hour too early, ie: half 5, but there was no point in dozing again. My rucksack stood ready, hiking shoes, sport skirt, everything! Cool morning air came through the open windows.
It had rained, the still damp streets were void of life at this early hour. The sky was grey and rainlike, but the air fresh and good for hiking. My two bed companions had left the day before. I got up at leisure, put my bed in order, saddled up and went to the kitche, where I found coffee + bread + a packet of food waiting for me. I gulped down the coffee; put my food packet into the pocket of my rucksack, took the bread with me to eat on the way to the Strassenbahn [edit: streetcar].
The front door was still shut, and I had to disturb the goodnatured caretaker to open it for me, which she did cheerfully and wished me gute reise [edit: good travels]. It was still much too early. Time had I enough. I took my way slowly towards the Haltestelle. All was shut up and sleepy looking, and as yet few Trams were running. I spoke with a newspaper vendor, who waited hopefully in the vicinity of the Haltestelle. But no, I would have nothing to do with newspapers. I was going off to enjoy myself, to forget the sorrow of the world, into the nature, away from large towns and civilised life.
Soon arrived large parties of H.J. und B.O.M. [edit: ?] and smaller family parties and individual lisben [edit: ?], all in the same holiday spirit, complete with rucksacks and raincoats, against the "pfupt wetter".
At last a strassenbahn.
