We finished work in Frankfurt around 5pm and drove to Wiesbaden, where my mom had lived and attended most of high school.
I was eager to leave work because: we were in Germany, working is dumb, I wasn't being paid to be there AND it was the opening night of the Christmas markets and I REALLY wanted to see the lighting of a tree and get some singing in.
We missed the lighting of the tree but our hotel was only a block away from the market so we jumped right in. So much to see, so much to eat and drink.
This was meal #1 of the night: Potato pancakes with applesauce and Gluhwein
(each city has their own custom mugs they serve the mulled wine in and you pay a deposit at the beginning of the night and just walk around the streets trading empty mugs for full ones. The Germans are smart.)
Look at all the candy. I love candy.We bought a nice assortment, which is still sitting in bowls on my table because an unidentified candy culprit has salt all over it instead of sugar and that makes candy gross.
More incredible, festive lights
Elliott posing to make fun of the German.Can you translate?
The most unflattering picture of me ever, in one of the most memorable places of my life.We spent hours in this tiny pub that was 15' wide by 25' deep and PACKED with the most eccentric mix of people you can imagine.
This is the neighborhood pub you have been dreaming of.
Piano playing, singing and swaying crowd, the whole bar yelling out greetings as each person walks through the door and decor that is too genuine to be replicated.
The view from the street. Could it get better than this? The sounds of happiness seeping through the ancient windows onto the street where the muted light and misty air gives a sense that time has not touched this corner of the world.
Thank you, Der Eimer. We had a grand, grand time nestled inside your musty old walls.
The sign that will make me laugh, without fail.Thanks for the entertainment, E. You are the best teammate I could ask for.
Wait...where did you go?
