The highway, it should be near now, I should have reached it by now. But the road moves on. I glimpse at the map, and just when I found Aalen on the paper, between yellow and red lines, the conjunction comes into sight.

Timing. And time for a different tune. No more blue coldplay. The grey album instead. Grey like the surface of the highway, beating like the kilometres underneath the wheels -

From my Blueprint beginnings
To that Black Album endings.

A change of highways, a change of direction. This moment of clarity, approaching.

Turn the music up turn the lights down
I'm in my zone.
Thank God for granting me this moment of clarity.
This moment of honesty.

Words moving, thought moving. This moment of clarity, frozen in the arms of the trees, I have to take a picture of it. I just have to.

Back to ground control, back to the clock, the numbers counting down at the side of the road. Nuremberg 67 km, not even an hour, then I will be there.

On the right land, a caravan of trucks. I hadn't expected this, at the Eastern edge of Germany. But then I see the junction coming up. Straight on, Prague. Czech Republic. A closed wall once, an open border now. A thought crossing through. I could simply drive on. On and on. Some hours only, I would be in Prague, in the East of Europe. Yet not today.

Today I change the lanes here, move to the right side, which leads to the South, to the centre of Nuremberg, or: Nürnberg, as it is called in German. The city of Albrecht Dürer and of the traditional Christmas Market.