I was around five or six years old when I saw snow for the first and one of just a few times. I remember being so happy to know that I didn’t have to go to school that day. Everything stopped. No one was able to do anything; we were not used to having snow – I mean we hardly even have rain in the winter. Almost 20 years has passed since that scene, but this morning when I left home I felt something falling – it was again real snow in Frankfurt, the only difference being that in Germany nothing stops due to the snow, it’s as if things are prepared to sustain all weather conditions, and life continues as usual, the trains, S-bahns, U-Bahns…
Perhaps, unconsciously, it had been my love of raw onions that had brought me to Germany in the first place.
I had tottered into “zum Rebstock” in search of food. At first I had been drawn to the most impressively old—and, probably, most underhandedly touristic—of Bacharach’s wine taverns. Altes Haus (Old House), it was called, and though the kitchen had already closed for the afternoon, the waitress had brought a glass of the local Riesling to my table while I perused a book about the area.
Germany is, as regular readers of this blog will know, a country that I value above all for its mastery of the art of brewing beer. Well, not above everything, but at the top of the list of reasons I moved to Germany, beer is right up there next to functioning public transportation and irresistible pork products. So there’s a certain irony to the fact that my most recent excursion in Germany was to one of the country’s major wine-producing regions, the Pfalz, or Palatinate as it is called in good English usage.
“Let’s make hot love.” Greg had just stumbled into the kitchen where Jan was heating up a bottle of Glühwein (mulled wine) that he’d bought at the grocery store.
“What?!” Jan asked, shocked. “Are you drunk?”
“No, of course not. I just want to make hot love with you.”
“Are you kidding me? What’s gotten into you? I’m in a relationship.”
“But I brought amaretto.” Jan’s eyes bulged. He and Greg had known each other for years, and this was out of character.
Greg pointed at the Gluhwein. “You’ve already got the Glühwien, and I have the amaretto. What’s the problem?”