HO HO HO in Nuremberg/Nürnberg

Ho Ho Ho in Nuremberg

On Saturday we took a drive to Nürnberg, about 2 hours north of Munich to visit the Christkindlesmarkt.  Our first stop in the town was to be the Johannisfriedhof cemetery as having studied Albrecht Dürer, I wanted to see his grave. For a change, I wasn´t commissioned to drive and I could sit back and relax, although I used the time to urge the driver on, as soon it would be dark, why dark, I hear you wondering, that´s because we have to be the world´s most relaxed couple, yeah right, and it usually takes us time before we finally get going! Ok to be fair, an unexpected appointment cropped up during the morning and we couldn´t leave until 2pm. After a debate, I wanted to postpone to the Sunday but DH insisted we still go, as midnight was our anniversary. 

We parked fairly close, to a cute lil sign which said, c´mon guys hurry up, you can park half on the pavement! grab the pooch and run! Entering this quaint cemetery, I had to blink, everything was so pukka, so pretty if you think of it like that. Ok I ordered, we´ve got no time, you scan left and back and I´ll do the rest, whistle when you see Dürer. Off he ran with the pooch in his arm as he didn´t want her to wet her paws, not because she doesn´t really like moist paws, but more because later she would have to walk on his leather seats (rolls eyes!). OK so obviously I got distracted, how could I not, all these old and interesting stone graves, perfect tombs, the perfect backdrop with dark setting in and the smell of rain - beautifully spooky, now where was harry potter? Right in the middle is a picturesque church, built in the 14th century and escaping the bombing raids.

Round and round, düüüüüürer - where ahhhhhhhh youuuuu? 15 minutes later, conjuring up various images of his woodcut, Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, the horse´s nostrils droned by our art teacher, we met up, hubby not albrecht. Any sign, nope, ok, there´s a man in the mist, off I hop around the tightly squeezed tombstones, to have a word. Grussgott, do you speak English? Great, I´m looking for Mr. Dürer..I´m sorry he´s not available right now, he´s in a meeting, can I take a message? This round, friendly Bavarian man is middle aged, in a tracksuit and raking the sand around the tomb he is visiting. I stop my thoughts for a second and sadly wonder who he is visiting. He stands up, he has a beard, and a funny kinda long curly tuft of hair down his neck and a gold earing. He is typically wearing  Birckenstock open leather sandals, with wooly socks! I wouldn´t have expected anything more... or less. He points out an enormous conifer and tells me to look next to it. I feel rude to just leave, but I dart off anyway, scavenging around the pine. Nothing! Come on Albrecht, stop playing hide and seek with me. I look back at my bavarian friend helplessly, shrugging my shoulders and so he walks over in my direction. Within less than a minute, we are looking at Albrecht. The epitaph written by his closest friend, Pirckheimer reads: Whatever was mortal of Albrecht Dürer is buried beneath this mound. He died at age 57 on April 6, 1528.
Then he urges me to come and look at some other typically and important Bavarian graves, telling me at each one to quickly take a picture so I could read up later as he couldn´t explain in english and it was soon closing time. 

   An interesting tombstone was that of Paumgartnerus where one can see an interesting depiction of his wives and the children he had with them, sculpted into the metal plate. Finally he showed me the resting place of Veit Stoss, who had a bronze skull on the grave whose mouth could open and close as if it was talking and telling me to read about him. DH had gone back to check the car, while I took some snaps with the help of a torch of the curator of the cemetery who had come along to join in the tour. With that my Bavarian friend saluted me and said Here, it is time to go to bed (it was after all 5pm).






Then it was my turn to drive and we moved along to the old medieval centre, driving through the wall that goes around the whole city. Parked the car and we walked to the north square to see the Castle and Dürer´s house which is now a museum. On to the main market square, where it´s easy to see why it is labelled the Christmas City, filled with hundreds of beautifully decorated stalls mainly selling delicious homemade delicacies, traditional spicy gingerbread biscuits known as Lebkuchen, fruit bread, sweets, goodies and plenty of glass and wooden christmas ornaments, angels, cribs, candles, you name it, it´s a feast for the eyes, not to mention the tastebuds. The stall keepers take much pride in decorating their stalls, this is a serious task with prizes every year for the best stalls. Nürnberg is also famous for its sausages and homemade toys. We spent a couple of hours working our way through all the buzz, this market is the oldest in Germany and attracts 2 million visitors every year.

We started with the fruit bread, a bite of heaven, rich and dark, filled with big chunks of figs, almonds, hazelnuts, plums, dates, orange rind, raisins and apricots (don´t even think calories here). Then we sampled splitterbombs, I think they were called, kinda like a giant sweetie pie except the inside cream was strawberry flavoured and ever-so-light! 
What a treat to take in all the sights and smells, completely magical, in fact, I kept looking down at the cobbled streets, amongst all the human feet, to watch the little gnomes and pixies jumping out the way, for fear of being trod on.

Around 9pm when our human feet were really tired, we thought we would stop for dinner, we were also craving savoury after all the sweet stuff we had sampled. Embarrassed to admit, but we didn´t indulge in a typically bavarian meal, but we found a corner in a lovely Italian place and ate a gorgeous Del Alpe pizza with figs, sundried tomatoes, gorgonzola and another Italian hard cheese and rocket. We then spent another 2 hours walking around the medieval streets, taking in the buildings, fountains, old wooden bridges and walk a part of the old wall at the top. The night was alive with merry folks, most of whom were drinking a hot mug of Gluhwein ( a mulled wine). We got 2 mugs and welcomed the mix of hot and cinnamon. This brought us to midnight and as the clock struck, we wished each other a happy anniversary. We worked our way back to the car, through the narrow streets and bars, even though my mind kept wandering to the Nazi era and connotation to this town, I found it extremely beautiful and in some ways it reminded me of Venice, with its little bridges going over the river that winds right through the centre. We even nicknamed the main bridge, Rialto. It had a very old willow weeping right up to the water´s edge, from there you could look up and see the tiers of houses going right up to the castle in the moonlight.

Lebkuchen (Gingerbread cookies) ingredients:

•	Honey, flour, sugar, and eggs
•	Cinnamon, cloves, anise, cardamom, coriander, ginger, nutmeg, allspice
•	Almonds, hazelnuts, and/or walnuts
•	Candied lemon and orange peels

Face Lift

Living in a small village in Africa brings certain things to the pot, one of which is closeness and a certain sense of trust. One tends more to do things that one wouldn´t do in the unknown of the big city. Like letting strange people get into your car.
My kind mom is often stopping on her way out of the village and offering a lift to someone, just as far as the highway where they would normally wait for a bus, she´s even had live chickens get into the car, accessories of the passenger.
I have asked her time and time again to stop this act of kindness.

A couple of weeks ago, she had just pulled out of the top road with the sea view and drove along to the main road, where she bypassed a lovely looking African lady, dressed to the T.
Of course a couple of minutes later, Joy was sitting in the back recounting some lovely stories and memories.
One slight hiccup though, Joy seemed to have quite a cold, as her voice was rather deep. It only took a minute or two, to realise that Joy in fact, was the transvestite of the area.

Not that this should change anything, but the driver found herself becoming a little nervous. But Joy was lovely, he had, sorry, she had the most beautiful hair and her nails were more manicured than the queen´s lawns. She was real and soft and wore a lovely ring.

The driver didn´t want it to seem that this situation was slightly different to her other lifts she had offered and went on to have a lovely chat with Joy. She asked Joy if she had kids, of course she did, 2 in fact. On reaching the highway intersection, Joy thanked the driver and trotted off in her heels.

A week later, my young niece came home from school and went to spend the afternoon with granny. Do you know gran, she spoke earnestly while doing her homework on the kitchen table, what a transvestite is? Granny at the stove, looked up with a curious look as the kid went on to explain to granny in her simplified way. You know gran, there is one that lives here.

Granny couldn´t help but smile to herself, and knowing she shouldn´t she replied, you know 2 weeks ago I gave a lift to a lovely lady, only that...

At the end of the story, my niece, shocked and quite rightly so, said, granny!!!! are you mad? you don´t give lifts to strangers.....once again rightly so!!! That´s right, you tell granny! Then she lowered her head, looked at her homework again, giving it a bit of thought.
You know gran, something could have happened, maybe it was your lucky day...
Then she thought again, and a few seconds later, she wrapped it up nicely, grannnn, maybe he just thought you were too old and not worth it!!

What a TIGER´S balls

Now there was a certain man who was into his balls, from an early start he was playing with his balls, in fact, he became champion of champions of balls. Of course being exposed to balls at such a young age really did help, when one continuously plays with balls, something has to go wrong, balls are funny things, from far they seem so perfect, round, complete, smooth and so lovely to hold...until everything goes tits up and you make a balls up galore.

Now we aren´t exactly sure that balls up it went, although we can speculate, have a laugh and have a ball of a time.

Here are 7 simple rules when playing this game to avoid ball ups:

1. Firstly, never never lose track of your balls, keep your eye on the ball all the time and know exactly where your ball/balls is/are.
2. Now if you´re going to have a ball of a time, FOCUS, it ain´t easy, and you need to get your ball into a small hole, it´s not easy, but practice makes perfect, and soon you will be getting your ball in first shot, commonly known as a hole in one.
3. You have to keep your ball as close as possible to the hole, it really isn´t good for your ball to stray and land up in the bush.
4. Contrary to popular belief, the size of your putter does count, don´t believe what they say, the bigger your putter, the more chance you have of hitting the ball on that sweet spot.
5.Remember to really take care of your shaft, it´s so important for the game, completely connected to whether you will succeed or not, should your ball stray, you will find that you have bent your shaft, and the spectators are not going to like that.
6. Ignore them if they tell you that you´re under par, or a good swinger, the most important thing to remember is to have a good stroke.
7. Lastly, it´s not good to put your balls in other people´s holes!

As with most things, stick to the rules of the game. play fair and you should be fine. Do not become obsessed with your balls, and have a ball of a time!

(Thanks to Stacey and Lisa for some funny comments and inspiration on my facebook page)

Incredible Italy or German efficiency

Ok Ok so we all know that Germany just doesn´t have the climate or the best pizzas around or the colourful chaotic bubbliness. But let me propose this, have you ever had an asthma attack at midnight? If your answer is no, make sure that you pencil this into your itinerary for your next visit. These guys have got it sorted, things just ooze along as smoothly as the frothy milk creaming onto your cappuccino at the bar in milan.
I had had trouble with my breathing all day yesterday aggravated by a cold and not having all the right meds in italy (my fault tut tut) and by early evening I knew I was heading for trouble when the time span after the ventolin pump was lessening by the minute. And so at 11.17pm, hubby called the emergency doc on duty (not really knowing the system) and hey presto or as they say here Hokuspokus the doc was coming to visit!
20 minutes and of course me going to the dogs ( well I really was walking to the yorkshire and getting her prepped to stay alone, packing my PJ´s into my bag) we called again to say it´s now much worse, wheeze wheeze, JAWOHL she said, der ambulanz kommt jetz.
And a few moments later the ambulance arrived. Now, 4 men walked into the apartment, along with enough equipment and bags for a small hospital in deepest Africa. Errhummm, now what happened to german efficiency eh, I ask you, a possible slip up in the regime? - how could they overlook this minor detail, I mean with a pulse of 140, how could they march in about the best looking doctor in Bavaria? Were they trying to push me over the edge from an acute attack to a full blown coronary? A slight slip of efficiency on their part! Come ON guys. Mr doc started his orders and he said to me don´t worry, you will soon feel better (oh I already do, I thought). A long needle into my hand and a nebuliser, I was soon enjoying the effects of cortisone and adrenalin and some other cocktails, speaking of which, did I mention he placed my hand with the needle on his leg within mm´s of his wurstel, pulse going up, pulse going up, my god what else did you expect?
I was then studied and watched by the lot of them, told that they weren´t going away until everything was uber pukka. OK, hubby was standing next to me holding up the drip as commanded by the chief ( a top surgeon), my hand still in poll position and being studied under the mask, how the heck was I sposed to get my beat down to anything below 500!
And then half an hour later woosh, they were gone, sliding out as quickly and professionally as they arrived.

Let me tell you another story, my sister, living more north in the country is having minor problems with her yorkie pooch. Well I am not quite sure if it could be classified as minor or what, but the problem is that the mutt does it´s doggy do and then it gets the munchies, and bing bang, if you aren´t quick enough, it munches it up. Now this could present a bit of a problem bearing in mind 1. it´s not pleasant and 2. it´s not hygienic. Vet´s advice: it behavioural and not a lack of mineral salts or vitamins.... Mein gott!!
This new game now has my sister literally running around the garden like a frenetic frau playing trying to catch the poo game, nein nein, not gut, come here gucci!! Let me just wrap by saying I think that dog´s a genius, it´s doing what comes naturally, after all she bought it in germany, what more could you ask for, a dog that doesn´t dirty it´s environment, I think that pooch is having a good chuckle inside, it´s german efficiency, I mean, that dog has got it sorted!!

Wishing you all a Schönen Tag noch!!