Somehow throughout the night Gilbert had managed to get a restful sleep. His wife, on the other hand, had not. It was late in the evening when she had closed her book, dimmed the light completely, and turned in for sleep. Since Anne had selflessly sacrificed her pillow, her head was forced to rest in the crook of her bended elbow and she awoke several times from the discomfort of numbness in her fingers. Eventually, at some ungodly hour, she could bear it no more and slipped down the ladder to rummage through their bag for something - anything - soft and pliable to use as a pillow. She found Gilbert's robe and bunched it up into a ball. It would have to do.
In the morning, an achy Anne slowly made her way back to the floor.
"To think that I once thought sleeping in a cherry tree would be comfortable," she laughed to an already awake Gilbert.
"Well, Anne-girl," he said with a surprisingly strong yet nasal voice, "we are not as young as we once were."
"No, indeed we are not. My soul still feels young though," she groaned as she flexed and stretched her back before perking up. "Gil, you sound better!"
"Ah yes, I am happy to report that the fire that was in my throat has been extinguished. Although, I can feel some sinus pressure."
"Yes, I guessed as much," she said as she lifted her nightgown over her head. "Now, dearest, I believe we have to be off of this train soon. You'd best get dressed."
A short while later The Blythes stood on the chaotic train platform at Köln Hauptbahnhof station. They were greeted by hoards of people racing off and on trains; their shouts in German somewhat disturbing for the newcomers. Bewildered, Anne and Gilbert managed to find the main desk where they had hoped to join their over-night bag with their trunks. The plan was to spend the majority of that sunny day sightseeing in Cologne before catching the evening train to Berlin.
After much back and forth with the luggage attendant, sprinkled with some confusion, Anne and Gilbert successfully dropped their hand-carried bags. Equipped with only Anne's handbag, they moved out of the station and prepared to secure a buggy.
Gilbert had set out to do just so but Anne's voice interrupted him.
"Gilbert, just look at that cathedral!" she exclaimed, as she gestured to the nearby twin spires jutting out over the skyline.
Her husband, still focused on the task of transportation, attempted to brush her off.
"Yes, Anne. We will plan to come by it again. At the moment I'd appreciate a strong cup of coffee and a hearty breakfast more than ogling at an ancient cathedral," he impatiently explained.
But, Anne was not to be deterred. She had entered into her 'enchanted state' and really, Gilbert ought to have known that there was no bringing her back.
"Gil, it can't be more than a few minutes walk. There might even be restaurants just around the corner. Surely that'd save us money."
Exasperated by his failed attempts, Gilbert blew out a heavy breath and relented.
"Alright, Anne - but breakfast first," he said with a glance to her. "I have a feeling that once you are in that cathedral we will be there awhile."
Anne grinned and looped her arm through his. They strolled in the direction of the spires, sidestepping the coming and going pedestrians as they went. Anne had been correct and it took mere minutes to reach the front of the looming gothic cathedral. Her steps halted and words failed her. Her head had tipped up in discovery and awe. A tug on her hand pulled her back to Gilbert's side and forced her to continue on with her steps.
They ducked into the nearest restaurant - a cozy corner which would likely be popular for a quick meal before a train journey. As they took their seats at a window-side table an audible growl reverberated from Gilbert's midriff. Within the same moment a matching growl escaped from his mouth.
Anne pursed her lips and looked across the table to study her husband.
"Gilbert, I thought you said that you were feeling well. Why are you in such a mood this morning?"
His response was on his tongue but the waitress approached the table with menus and thereby interrupted the discussion. Anne and Gilbert each leaned back in their chairs while the menus were placed before them. An indiscernible stream of words came from the waitress. With cocked brows they glanced at each other and then the woman.
"We're terribly sorry. Are you able to speak English?"
Understanding dawned on the waitress' face but still she shook her head. So, her redheaded customer used simple words and gestures to communicate that a pot of tea would be needed. When the waitress departed from their table Anne and Gilbert turned their attention to the menus.
"See, this is it. All of this language back and forth at every step of our way," Gilbert waved his hands as he resumed their discussion. "We will need to find a way to make this easier, Anne."
Anne lifted her eyes from her menu to look again at Gilbert.
"Hmm. Well," she said slowly, "how many of those little walking tours have we encountered? They seem to be an efficient way to see the highlights. Perhaps we should look into them further."
"This is exactly why those Thomas Cook touring parties are so popular. We would have been with a group of English-speaking people..." Gilbert continued his assailing comments without really considering Anne's.
"Yes, Gilbert. A group of people. Remember what you said on our anniversary!" Anne hissed.
"About being with English people? No, it's not coming to mind. What did I say?" Gilbert stupidly replied.
"It's not something to discuss in public, Gilbert," she whimpered. "I believed we were enjoying ourselves. A few little bumps along the way has certainly not ruined it for me."
"I don't believe I said that this was a ruined trip - only that we need to make the communication easier!" Gilbert lowly barked.
"And as I said, Gilbert dearest," Anne's indignant voice attempted to remain low but was failing more and more with each word, "I suggested inquiring into those smaller walking tours."
"Oh, well that is a rather smart idea," was Gilbert's dumbfounded response as he gently massaged the sides of his nose with his long fingers.
"For mercy's sake..." Anne muttered and once again looked back down to her menu.
A second perusal of it caused Anne to pause in concern.
"Uh, Gilbert. Here, on the menu. Do you suppose that this M indicates the German currency? The goldmark, isn't it?"
"Yes, I would deduce that to be correct," replied Gilbert nonchalantly.
"Well, haven't we only the Dutch guilder?"
Gilbert dropped his hands to his menu to inspect it. With a clamped jaw he hummed his agreement and then sighed.
"We'll have to get to a bank then. I wonder if the restaurant will take what we have," his thoughts drifted through his mouth.
"We are about to find out. Here comes the tea," Anne murmured.
The teapot was placed upon the table and the waitress had braced herself for this next round of charades; however, Gilbert interrupted her by digging into his pocket to procure the guilder coins. He presented them to her with a lift of his shoulders.
She peered into his open hand and shook her head again. So, Anne and Gilbert gestured to the confused woman that they would be back after a trip to the bank.
As they stepped back onto the busy street, Anne was the first to see the humour in the situation. She laughed as she caught Gilbert's arm and nudged into him. He hadn't quite gotten to her point of acceptance and was rather irritated - and still hungry.
"Oh Gil, it's just another bend in the road. Don't you think that someday we will laugh about this?"
Gilbert turned his head to glance at her and then offered her a pained smile. "Oh, I'm sure we will. We just need to live through it first."
The Blythes' hagridden errand brought them to the bank. Once there they struggled again to communicate first with the bank teller, then the supervisor, and finally the branch manager. Forty-five minutes had painfully passed before Anne and Gilbert stood on concrete steps of the bank with goldmark in their pockets. They arrived back at the cafe to the same table and the same waitress but fortunately a new pot of tea. Both still aware of the public setting, Anne and Gilbert suppressed the urge to collapse into their chairs.
The waitress engaged her patrons with a kind smile. Gilbert, at this point not caring at all about what he ate so long as it filled his belly, pointed to the first meal on the menu and nodded to her. Anne laughed, repeated his gesture, collected the menus and handed them to the woman.
"I thought you said you wanted coffee this morning?" she asked as she poured out the steeped tea for herself.
Gilbert shrugged. "It's too much of a bother. Care to share some of that with me?"
Anne smiled and poured the golden brown liquid into his teacup.
"Well now," Anne breathed as she placed the teapot back onto the table and relaxed into her seat, "I wonder what the next few days will hold for us."
Gilbert had stirred a teaspoon of sugar into his tea and set the spoon on the table.
"So do I," he said as he lifted the cup to his lips and took a sip. "Ah, that is good. I do worry a bit about what that Muller gentleman said on the ship."
"You know, I was concerned as well but so far, from what I've seen, I don't believe there's much for us to worry about, Gil," here she paused for her own sip of creamy, unsweetened tea. "We are merely visitors. Here today and gone tomorrow."
"Speaking of which, have you got our plans in your handbag?"
Anne nodded behind her teacup.
"I suppose we should review them once more, don't you? If we need to make up for lost time we may as well start early."
Anne nodded thoughtfully, set her teacup in its saucer, and rifled through her handbag for their itinerary. She brought out the small notebook and handed it to her husband. Gilbert opened it and flipped the pages until he reached their current destination, counting the days down as he studied.
"Well, we're in luck. I can only see one day to make up for - likely the time we lost getting to Amsterdam."
"May I see?" Anne asked.
Gilbert wordlessly passed the book back to Anne and took up his cup again.
Anne silently flipped through their remaining plans before she asked, "And when will we receive letters from home?"
Gilbert cleared his throat. "Our accommodations in France have been arranged already. Assuming we maintain our pace, we should have letters waiting for us when we get there."
Here the waitress appeared with their food - a spread of breads, meats, and cheeses. And unbeknownst to her illiterate customers, she also brought a hearty side dish of scrambled eggs. Also unbeknownst to them was the fact that the eggs were brought out free of charge; a decision that was mutually agreed upon by the restaurant staff when the waitress regaled her experience. All conversation was muted while Anne and Gilbert engulfed the meal. They sat at ease for a few minutes, allowing for blood sugar levels to resume normal and the last of the tea to be swallowed. Finally they were able to properly pay and stepped out into the welcoming morning sun.
Both took in relaxed deep breaths and Anne turned to Gilbert. "Feeling better, my love?"
Gilbert offered her his best and most familiar wide grin; the very one that could still turn Anne's kneecaps to jelly. Was there anything better than seeing her beloved so satisfied? His grin spoke for itself; however, he still gave a response.
"Yes, Anne-girl, very much so. Now, shall we go explore that cathedral?"
Anne's grey-green eyes twinkled with merriment as she linked her arm through his and they walked the way back to the ancient building.
During their walk Anne had outlined her wish to study the exterior of the building before further exploring the inside of it. 'To be thorough and appreciative,' she had remarked. Gilbert could only chuckle. He knew much about the need for thoroughness and not necessarily the kind which pertained to his vocation.
They approached the building from the South and spent more than half of an hour simply exploring and circling the impressively ornate exterior. Squinted eyes sought out the features of the menacing gargoyles and studied the multitudes of gothic spires and flying buttresses. As if she were thoroughly educated in the field, Anne took guesses as to which period each section of the building had been built in. Gilbert smiled and found he could not participate in her discussion with much intelligence for he was too busy admiring the copper-headed woman next to him. Anne's head was tilted up, eyes and mouth wide in appreciation. Every few minutes she'd step closer to Gilbert to point out a particularly interesting or beautiful detail which resulted in a swift whooshing feeling deep in his belly, much the same as the lovesick Gilbert of many years before. He had always known that he was blessed - had been blessed - to have won Anne's heart all those years ago, but with greater frequency he was shaken to his core with this knowledge.
Feeling sufficiently acquainted, Anne and Gilbert found the entrance and stepped into the church's foyer. Immediately they were taken aback by the cruciform lengths of the nave which belied what they had studied outside just moments before. Next they were drawn to the ceiling that seemed to reach to the heavens. The sound of a throat clearing brought their attention back to their immediate surroundings. They turned to view a gentleman whom appeared to be a member of the clergy. The man gestured to a large donation box into which Gilbert plopped several coins and thereby garnered a curt nod. Along the adjacent wall Anne spied a rack of paper pamphlets where her fingers deftly sorted through the various languages. She sighed a show of relief when she discovered a few of the informative slips in English. Gilbert, by now at her side, winked at her in response.
Anne and Gilbert turned into the nave, meekly making their way passed those seeking mid-week religious respite in the pews. They walked towards the beckoning golden sarcophagus above the altar and finally stood before it.
Anne bowed her head to inspect the paper in her hand. "The sheet says that this is the Shrine to the Three Kings. And - oh my, it is said to contain the remains of them!"
"I don't believe that, Anne-girl," came Gilbert's skeptical reply.
"Read for yourself, Gilbert."
He peered down to his own paper. "So, you're telling me that here lies the bodies of the three wise men? Of the 'gold, frankincense, and myrrh' variety?"
"I'm not telling you, dearest. The sheet is," Anne said earnestly.
"Not a chance," said the staunch disbeliever.
"I suppose we aren't able to open the tomb up to check for ourselves, doctor, but it is a beautiful shrine to them. Isn't it?"
"That it is. What in heck is it doing in Cologne?"
"Gilbert! Do you forget that we are in a holy place?"
"My apologies," he smiled and tried again. "Why do you suppose it is here and not in the Holy Land?"
Anne chuckled and looked back down to her paper. "That I cannot tell you. This seems a strange home for an item so biblically rare."
"Perhaps we'll never know." Gilbert turned to his wife with a mischievous grin. "Another tale to tell back at home. I'm certain nobody will believe us."
"Oh, I'm saving this," Anne laughed and waved the slip. "The proof is in the pudding so they say."
They stood in silent study for several minutes. Regardless of the couples rival opinions on the relic's authenticity neither could argue that it was not a piece of stunning work. The golden basilica-shaped sarcophagus shone with reflective jewels and was adorned with several familiar biblical figures and scenes; the most identifiable being the nativity scene, His baptism, and crucifixion.
"This must be the most ancient artifact we have ever encountered, Gil. Perhaps the oldest we ever will," Anne lowly murmured and blew out a long breath, bringing herself back to 1905. "And we happened upon it by chance."
She stepped closer to her husband and wrapped an arm around his back. Gilbert had sensed that no response was required from him and only just refrained himself from planting a kiss on her head. Instead he placed her arm in his and began their exploration of the remaining areas of the cathedral.
The Blythes continued their slow appreciation of the cathedral, drinking in the coloured light which escaped the stained glass windows, and steeped themselves in the overwhelming presence of God. Eventually they took a seat on a pew near the back of the church. They sat in more silence before Gilbert heaved a deep sigh, his hands placed on the top of his legs, and said, "well, Anne, is it time to move along?" Pulled out of her reverie, Anne's sigh matched his and eventually she murmured her agreement.
Back amongst the hustle and bustle of the city it was decided that whatever happened to be across the oh-so enticing Cathedral Bridge would be worth the drive. Anne and Gilbert were seated comfortably in a horse-drawn carriage as they crossed the Rhine River and further into the city. The late morning sun was near its peak and so, with nothing but time to spare they simply instructed their driver to drive. Eventually Gilbert, ever mindful of the costs, had indicated that they were ready to cross back and so the carriage deposited them in the heart of Cologne's Old Town.
On foot Anne and Gilbert meandered the narrow streets, passed the historic Kölner Rathaus, and along the markets. Pangs of hunger once again infiltrated their dilly-dallying, only on this occasion it was Anne who prodded her husband into the pub. The meals of Himmel un Ääd warm in their bellies they retreated out onto the street.
"Let's take a ramble down to the river." Anne brightly suggested.
Gilbert, with his hands in his pockets, nodded and led the way. They strolled leisurely down to the riverbank and the walking paths that stretched along it. The waterway, teeming with vessels and general busy-ness, was an excellent source of entertainment for a short while. Anne found herself several steps ahead of Gilbert, whom was preoccupied with intently observing the boats that chugged by.
Anne moved back to him and laughed. "Gilbert, surely you have seen your share of boats before."
He chuckled. "I know - and it shouldn't be so astounding to me, but this is fairly precise maneuvering. I wonder at the number of collisions that occur each day. I thought the same in Amsterdam."
His wife's good humour continued. "To be certain, those men would be astounded by the man who is able to safely remove an appendix. I believe your skills are far superior."
This earned a droll eye-roll from Gilbert.
As they sauntered further down the pathway Anne changed the topic of discussion.
"How are you feeling now?"
"About the same as this morning. I don't seem to be progressing."
Anne and Gilbert continued their lazy explorations until late in the afternoon. They halted when a cold wind picked up. A quick glance to the sky revealed a quickly charging cloud coverage.
"Looks like rain," Anne said through thin lips.
"Perhaps even snow. Well, wife? What shall we do?"
"We will make our way back to the train station, I suppose. I didn't bring a rain umbrella with me today," she scolded herself.
Ten minutes of hurried footsteps brought them back to the train station platform where they sat for an hour - sheltered, bored, and reunited with their night bag.
In the evening, after dinner, Anne and Gilbert returned to their berth for quiet conversation. The discussion had quickly turned to the amorous kind, chiefly by Gilbert, and he stood to scoop his wife up from her top bunk in the hope that she would join him down below. Anne shrieked, giggled, and advised Gilbert that she was most certainly a willing participant. Gilbert leaned in for the kiss - and Anne unceremoniously sneezed in his face.