Out of a disturbingly dark forest came not one, which would have been surprising enough, but hundreds of penguins. Chinstraps marching silently in lockstep, always five in a row, with their tailcoats and spats on, then a flock of Royals, overly excited by whatever they where up to as I easily recognised by the cushioned mumbling and the frantic flapping. They wore the latest royal hairdo and fashion, I guessed, which were long bleached streaks at the front and pink shoes. I was standing in the middle of a vast field facing east and practising my Tai Chi movements when I all of a sudden noticed a strange wind from the forest to my right. The penguins were marching north. What was this supposed to mean? In a slow swaying pace the Kings appeared from the thicket and - I held my breath - the two tall and stunning emperors. This was really weird, the Antarctic emperors on a foot march through Poland. I was too dazed to think about possible consequences, I just watched the train of penguins pass and followed the rear Chinstraps.

Eventually we came to the sea. While the penguin society gracefully jumped into the first wave at the beach of Wladislawowo, I had to go to the close harbour and let myself hire on a cargo ship to Sweden. It was not easy to find my little travel mates again, but I knew enough Swedish to ask the local farmers 'Här du sett pingviner marscher i norra?' By the time I found them again, they knew me and tolerated my wake and from time to time they arrogantly made it clear, that I had to lift them over some obstacles - hundreds of penguins! And it's not as if one of them had a thankful nod left for me. However, my curiosity was too big to have resentments...

After several weeks of travelling we crossed the Polar Circle, arrived in Norway and finally left the continent behind us. The North. The wide white open. I always wanted to go there like I always long for the emptiness of the desert. Being there, however, I felt that my home was the forest land but that was completely beside the point. We lived from dried fish, the march was tough, especially when we got into a blizzard, which happened at least once a day. One day when the view cleared again after one of these huge snow storms a perfectly white fortress appeared from the equally white surroundings. A castle of unseen beauty rose behind blueish walls of ice and snow. Round and square towers, towers in all kinds of shapes, actually, with balconies, flags and banners.

As we drew closer to the giant wall its magnificent blue carvings became visible. Patterns and entangled shapes which surely change their forms with the position of the Sun. A time-lapse camera would be great now and a cup of coffee and a blanket to sit down and observe the wall, decrypt the lines and shadows. The penguin company toddled on, they took a path slightly to the left, either somebody told them where the entrance was - or they just knew. Be as it may, the gate appeared after no time. Two crystal spires rose like twirled horns into the sky. Their tips must have been prisms of extraordinary accuracy for the light of the sinking Sun broke into all its colours and built a shimmering arch. At the ground of the spires to each side of the gate two polar bears guarded the entrance, armed with no other weapons than mere strength. With an impenetrable and undefinable gaze they fixed...
Unknown Content - 16 years, 9 months, 17 days ago