Altered States

Yesterday Mike showed me around the old centre of Frankfurt: a city utterly destroyed during the latter years of WW2. To be honest I didn't really like the modern rebuilding of the pre-war Altstadt and this was flavouring my feelings about Frankfurt. Tall banks and pseudo antiquities taking all the money don't do anything for me ... But was it ever possible to just leave the ruin for people to reflect up the brutality of the USAAF and RAF? Thankfully, once we left the north side of the Main, across the Eisener Steg, and reached Sachsenhausen, a vibrant and more cultural area presented itself. With plenty of Wirtshäuser selling Apfelwein and vending Bratwürst, with beautiful tangy Sauerkraut and gentley steamed Kartoffel, nothing could feel warmer!

Mike is almost tee-total and I am far from it! Too often I get absolutely carried away by locally frequented bars - ones without Chinese faces gapping open mouthed and oblivious everywhere - and plates of truly loved combustibles piled high in huge figure hugging portions to chase away the drizzle lingering on our coats and noses, those blank yellow faces and the unnecessary faux "Disney" aspect of the Altstadt.

While we tried various of the Wirtshäuser I consumed many Apfelwein and, perhaps, I ate all the Bratwürste Sachsenhausen had at it's disposal. Mike, bless him, suffered my alcohol and food myopia with humility before we headed back the two miles east, to where he had hidden his car earlier in the morning, and the few miles back to the northern suburbs where Steffi had made a wonderful Bolognese and then I gave Mike a lesson in how to boil pasta (sorry Mike, but you are a scientist and you should already know this stuff?).

As the train heads further east I have finally glanced up and realised the hills I saw ahead have been replaced by woods either side of Schlüchtern and, perhaps, it is time to leave this inner world a while and focus on the journey as we head into a long pitch black tunnel and my ears pop and once more as we come back into the light.

Comments

Oby said…
Regarding the pasta: What was the nickname of Al Capone's dentist? Al Dente

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