Above: A real bratwurst from a charcoal grill at a flea market in rural Lower Saxony, with mustard and curry ketchup.
In order to strike back against the anti-climax of Summer Holiday 2016 (me getting sick that is) and to achieve something like an anti-anti-climax, Nelson and I fled to Northern Germany for a couple of days. Specifically here, which I was going to say is nothing like what this New York Times profile suggests, but in fact, well....everything they say about the aging population and the alien-ness of modern art and what will happen if a new generation doesn't take over.....that's all very true it seems.
But we had fun! And swam in an icy cold river. And France remains the most overrated country in Europe. Germany was full of exceptionally friendly people (ok, ok, "our 48 hours in this one German town of 9,000 people were full of etc, except for two people that I can't forget to tell you about"), delicious vegetarian food, giant grilled sausages, and as a not-unexpected bonus, big long randomly capitalized German words for everything instead of puh puh puh poopoo le voo French ones (I need a metatag for something along the lies of "fake racism", and possibly an additional one to signify that I know this is not exactly racism at all but more like grand cultural generalizations cleverly disguised as fake racism....it's all verrrrrrry complicated, I assure you, that's why I need a catchy little metatag).
Plus: we camped! And one of the nights, I slept! I slept like a really long German word in another really long German word.