Mönchengladbach Pongs

I was out and about in Mönchengladbach yesterday when I saw a sight which filled me with that kind of joy which only a Brit in Germany can experience. That same jovial smile crossed my features as happens whenever a Teuton wishes me a Gute Fahrt, or when I pass the Autobahn exit to this place.

The reason for my delight was a bus emerging from a side-street to my right.  Not just any old bus.

This bus.

Whiffy bus?

I have to admit that the sight of this splendidly labelled vehicle caused me a brief moment of dilemma. You see I was driving through Mönchengladbach on my way somewhere… at that very moment, Helga the satnav was commanding me in her brusque tones to drive straight on. I had a purpose.

But those who know me well will realise that this brief flash of doubt was quickly over. To Helga’s immense dismay (and trust me, no real person can spit out the word “Recalculating” as fiercely as she does), I did the only thing possible under the circumstances.

I followed the bus.

Within a few miles I found myself in downtown Pongs.  I quickly made sure my car windows were completely rolled up and the air vents closed… after all, surely a place doesn’t get a name like that for no reason.

Downtown Pongs… move along, nothing to smell here…

Luckily the refuse collecters were out in Pongs at the time… presumably Pongs pongs less today.

The 024 to Pongs is now my second favourite German bus. My favourite still has to be the vehicle run by this company…

Another example of an amusingly named German bus

At last! German snacks take a leap forward into the 1980s

One of the things which all British expats in Germany have yearned for over the years has been flavoured crisps. (For Americans reading this, crisps are what you call chips. Confusingly what we call chips is what you call French fries… but I digress….)

Crisps are a sort of soul food for the Brits. We take them on picnics, we order them in the pub with our beer, we nibble on them in front of the TV and hand them out to our children to keep them going until lunchtime. And British crisps come in all kinds of fabulous flavours. Salt and vinegar, cheese and onion, Worcestershire sauce (Americans – that’s pronounced Wuster), prawn cocktail, smokey bacon….

When I first arrived in Germany the crisp scene was dismal. There were two sorts of crisps. Plain or paprika. For about the first fifteen years of living here, nothing much changed. Oh, there were launches of other snack types… Pringles and Nachos and things… but real crisps with added flavours still remained a rarity – and any attempt at copying a gutsy taste like salt and vinegar had to be watered down for the German palate (balsemic vinegar and sea salt… it just doesn’t come close!).

So imagine my surprised and delight when I discovered the Germans starting to experiment with creating their VERY OWN crisp culture. A big round of applause ladies and gentlemen, for the first all-German flavoured crisp!

Currywurst crisps! Soul food for Germans?

German buskers

Now that we are into the Summer the street entertainers are out in force. Of course there are plenty of international musicians … I’ve seen Romany groups from Eastern Europe, pan pipe bands from the Andes and even a man wearing a kilt and playing the bagpipes. But what does a typical German street entertainer look like?

If you ask me, the typical German busker is the Organ Grinder.  There is one in every shopping centre at this time of the year. The instrument is often cobbled together from various components… and the traditional monkey has usually been replaced by a Steiff stuffed toy.

A German organ grinder….

This one has a nod to modernity with a Sesame Street puppet tacked onto the front…   roll up ladies and gents… bring out your loose change….

More weird German toilets

Of course one of the most disconcerting things about living abroad is getting used to the toilet culture. Imagine my confusion today, while visiting a client’s offices which had both a male and female sign on the lavatory door, when I went in and found this scene.

His and hers?

Should I sit one the girls’ throne in the expectation that one of my male colleagues would join me, to use the urinal? Should I use my briefcase as a barricade against the door to repel invaders? What is the etiquette if someone of either sex comes in? Does one strike up conversation? What is the best subject? Should I stick to the weather or move to the more topical ground of digestive health?

The dividing screen provides the absolute minimum level of privacy… but allows for the possibility of eye contact. But what if the man using the urinal is exceptionally tall?

Germans – I need your help here. What is the correct local etiquette in a mixed facility?

In my next life…

…I want to be the person who gets to name German breakfast cereals!

Choc Blop anyone?

Do Choco Balls taste nice?

Beats cornflakes into a cocked hat!

 

The incredible German appetite

The German nation shops on its stomach.

Germans, it seems, cannot undertake any task without first stoking up with a sausage. This has inspired a cunning generation of German sausage vendors to pitch their vans everywhere and anywhere where Germans might be more than ten minutes away from their own fridge.

If you need to find the entrance to a German DIY store, it will be located behind the sausage stand. Because no German would face a half hour perusal of drills and planks on an empty stomach.

Before you can even enter the DIY store you have to negotiate the sausage stand

Getting the car serviced is stressful for anyone – but in Germany at least you can comfort-eat your way through the experience.

Waiting while your car is fixed? You’ll be needing sustenance…

And we all know that shopping should never be undertaken on an empty stomach… not that any German would dream of it.

Shopping is such hungry work…

Of course a typical German sausage is a mighty beast – the size of a toddler’s forearm, with a very precise line of mustard (or ketchup) squirted across the top. The difference between Germans and me, is that Germans can manage to eat their sausage without the mustard slopping all over their shirt. In areas with a high immigrant population (and therefore the highest shirt-soiling quota) there are often alternative snacks – like entire-roast-chicken stands.  Because even messy foreigners can’t be expected to shop on an empty stomach…

Roast chicken … the alternative for those who can’t eat a sausage without dribbling mustard on their clothes

OK OK we got it, Bild!

The problem with the German joke is that it stops being funny when it has to be explained, at length, over a period of days. (Assuming it was funny in the first place).

This appears now to be Bild’s strategy this week in it’s response to the Sun’s original How German are you quiz, based on research that shows 50% of Brits have German genes.

Today Bild is running a story under the title: Oh ja! Wir Engländer sind ja wirklich very peinlich (Oh yes. We English really are very embarrassing). They obviously sent a Bild hack round a bunch of British tourists in Majorca and asked them to do the Bild quiz.

The thing about the Bild quiz was (and this bit was funny, Bild) that all of the multiple choice options gave the same answer. You are totally English.  Not surprising, really,  when there were answers like:

What is your favourite drink?

a: Beer

b: Beer

C: BEER

(And let’s not forget the original premise: 50% of Brits have German genes… so  I don’t think we need to look far to find out where any national liking for beer comes from).

Similarly with the question:

How do you shoot penalties?

a:  Past the left post

b:  Past the right post

c:  Over the bar

That must be our German genes at work too – as illustrated in this clip….

 

Is anyone going for the last word, or can we move on to slagging off the French yet?

It doesn’t have to be Aldi…

Today I was down in Düsseldorf, so I took the opportunity to pick up some groceries in the Altstadt.

First stop was the bakery. As with all the best German bakeries, there was a baffling array of different types of bread, and of course I wanted to try them all. In the end I settled on the Senfkrüste as well as a crusty white.

Next, on to the market on the Carlsplatz. I decided not to stop at the butcher’s today…

… because to go with that bread I really wanted some nice cheese…

After the e-coli scare, at least salad is back on the menu again…

The fresh asparagus was tempting…

But in the end it was the mushrooms which beckoned…

…with fresh herbs…

…and of course some fine ingredients for a dressing… including the famous Düsseldorfer Senf (mustard)…

So that’s dinner sorted. What are you having? 😉

 

A very sunny morning down at the Rhine

Roll up ladies and gentlemen… for one day only a preview of Summer in Germany! 22°C and brilliant sunshine! Tomorrow will be back to chilly and rainy, so enjoy it now!

On a lovely day like today, the best place to be is down by the river. In Meerbusch we’re lucky – we are right next to the Rhine. Later on the banks will be packed with people having picnics and barbecues… but first thing in the morning it’s deserted, apart from the odd dog walker.

Here are some views from the fashionable side of the Rhine…

Still a little hazy first thing as the sun comes up

Looking downstream towards the new bridge

The barges are out early

Sheep grazing with the new bridge in the background

One of the many tributories which flow into the Rhine

Hang out the Sendschwert… there’s a fair on in Münster!

Münster has a fair three times a year. They call it the Send – which apparently is a derivation of “Synod” and originated with some rather jolly get-togethers of clerics in the 9th century.

When the Send is on, the city fathers hang out the Send Sword, or Sendschwert, on the town hall. This is a disembodied arm holding an upright sword. Apparently this is a reminder that any unruly behaviour at the fair used to be punishable by death.  So when attending the Send, I am always careful not to drop my candyfloss or park illegally. The Münster city fathers might take it personally and decide to impale me.

A disembodied arm with sword... oh my!

The good news is that those 9th century clerics certainly knew how to party, judging by the modern day Send. Of course the risk of being impaled on the Sendschwert increases with every jug of beer…

Roll up! Cheap beer all week!

A German fair would not be complete without rides. And the Send specialises in the kind of rides which can only be described as absolutely freaking terrifying.  Seriously – I mean who in their right mind would go on this voluntarily? No wonder the fair is announced with the public display of severed limbs!

Centrafugal stomach churner

I know you’re  thinking that after an afternoon in Bruno’s Bierdorf, it might seem like a great idea to climb onto a contraption which will spin you like an odd sock in the laundromat of life….   but the city fathers have thought of that. Readers, meet German Health and Safety.

Positively no drunks allowed on the ride! Or people who are short, tall, pregnant, or in possession of any other condition known to the medical profession...

Now clearly there is a disconnect here. In order to want to get on the ride you would have to be drunk to the point of near-terminal stupidity. But as soon as you are drunk, you’re not allowed on.

The fair does, however, offer plenty of less dangerous attractions which will part the stupidly drunk from their hard earned Euros. Take, for example, the mechanical grab machine where you can win one of the most psychologically disturbing cuddly toys of all time – the creepy cuddly Michael Jackson doll.

You could win a creepy Michael Jackson doll... the stuff of nightmares!

Suddenly being impaled by the sword-wielding disembodied long arm of the law is sounding like the most compelling attraction at the fair! Well, apart from another jug of the cheap ale, of course.