Hope all good mit du. I'm back from a lovely weekend visiting Pierre and Iwona, and sampling the joys of the Frankurter lifestyle. We started with bottomless brunch, which seems to be all the rage in the more gentrified parts of town, then staggered back to their flat in the shadow of the new European Central Bank building.
Having wandered round the old centre, the cathedral, the commercial centre, the financial quarter and along the impossibly civilised riverside, we adjourned to a farmer's market for some apfelwein, then back home for a very sophisticated dinner party with Pierre's ECB chums.
The next day we went over the river to Sachsenhausen for more apfelwein, schnitzel and grüne soße (but not, somehow, any frankfurters - maybe next time) then rolled back, off to the airport and back home, where I've been grappling with app shenanigans ever since. Lovely stuff.
I've made a new compilation, and my phrase of the day is an infamous Frankfurter dish which even I couldn't face eating, some kind of gelatinous cheese with raw onions. I don't know why it's called "hand cheese" - and don't really want to know - but "mit musik" refers to the optional onions, which make you fart, hence the music.
That's all from me - next week I'll be writing from a boat in the Aegean, which should be interesting.
Tschüss,
Die Fredermaus
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