“Tot dusver had ik mij steeds vrij tevreden met het leven gevoeld, zonder er wonderen van te verwachten. Die morgen geloofde ik, dat het voor een mens niet onmogelijk is gelukkig te zijn, kortstondig gelukkig misschien, maar gelukkig onmiskenbaar.”

– Hubert Lampo, De komst van Joachim Stiller (1960)

The reporter keeps a detailed calendar with many, many dates to pick from:

“Monday 3 September 1973, Munich – airport; Wednesday 5 September 1973, Barcelona, 12 a.m. – Parque Communal, – Umbraculo; Friday 7 September 1973, pick up Lucy; Monday 10 September 1973, Melina – 3 p.m. Plaza de la Iglesia, S. Ferdinando; Tuesday 11 September 1973, Daisy, 6 p.m. – Osuna, Hotel de la Gloria; Thursday 13 September 1973, 47-22, including SM, $40; Sunday 16 September 1973, care Daisy in Madrid.”

We watch the final report by Will Roczinski, who sadly died in a car crash while working on a TV documentary about UFOs and the like. A fascinating early “faux footage” film from the BRD. One can only wonder how the average West German processed the fantastic premise.

“We've been to Haunted Hills, and through Tinglers, and even Ghosts... but now we're going to meet a group of people who just happen to be… Homicidal.”

– William Castle, introduction

“Everything is rotten. Decadence is everywhere. Why fight it?”

“Well, there are more ways than one of getting close to your ancestors. Follow the old road, and as you walk, think of them and of the old England. They climbed Chillingbourne Hill, just as you. They sweated and paused for breath just as you did today. And when you see the bluebells in the spring and the wild thyme, and the broom and the heather, you're only seeing what their eyes saw. You ford the same rivers. The same birds are singing. When you lie flat on your back and rest, and watch the clouds sailing, as I often do, you're so close to those other people, that you can hear the thrumming of the hoofs of their horses, and the sound of the wheels on the road, and their laughter and talk, and the music of the instruments they carried. And when I turn the bend in the road, where they too saw the towers of Canterbury, I feel I've only to turn my head, to see them on the road behind me.”

– Thomas Colpeper, JP

“Eight bones has the carpus, five the metacarpus, fourteen the phlanges, all in all, all in all, twenty-seven all in all. Abracadabra.”

– Donald Arlington