I’m not a big fan of driving. So I wasn’t thrilled when I discovered that I needed a rental car to get around Germany.
As a commuter in New York, I notice a common trend: every sixth driver is a moron, and every fifth driver an asshole. (I’d say I’m probably underreporting and also not taking into account douche bags.) In my daily data collection, the morons and assholes typically drive German cars: Audis, BMWs, and Mercedeses (that doesn’t sound right). (The douche bag will usually drive a pick-up truck, which are no longer purpose-driven, or a Lexus.)
At the Lorsbucher Thal, in the city of Frankfurt, I walked through the underground cellar that houses both an impressive collection of apple wine and a small museum to the craft. Wooden barrels six feet in diameter and fiberglass tanks that look like miniature submarines take up most of the space, while the world’s largest collection of apple wine, according to the owner, takes up only a few shelves along one wall.
I’m a big fan of layovers when there’s a worthwhile escape. If you find yourself in the Munich airport on a layover, or have time to kill before a flight, don’t waste time at the gate: head to the world’s only full-scale brewery and beer garden, watch the sports analysts diagnose the latest football game while sipping back martinis at a gin bar, or surf a wave instead of wifi.
When my tour guide in Erfurt met me at the hotel, I thought about sending him away. He was dressed, he said, in the typical habiliments of the beer crier, the man once employed to wander the town and announce which breweries were serving beer that week. I used to know a guy in college who was a beer crier and I didn’t like his company much, but I guess his beer crying over his girlfriend was a different sort of thing. The beer crier of Erfurt was an important profession from the 15th to 17th century when, at the peak of things, there were 583 breweries in the city, but only thirty, at any one time, would be selling beer. (It’s important to note that Facebook was not yet invented, hence a man on the street alerting others to the location of the party.) Read more
Before arriving in London, I had spent a few sleepless nights trying to figure out the logistics of the whole thing. The whole thing being how to travel around London with a toddler and an infant while my wife went to the office and while I was only equipped with a single-seat stroller.