rambunctious pack of American soldiers whose coarse boasts
made me all too eager to disembark when we finally arrived.
Ascending from the stale air of the underground portion of the
train station to the fresh, open and crowded Altstadt was in
itself enough reward for the journey. This week is the Altstadtfest
and the alleys were packed with vendors and visitors, peddling,
grasping and ignoring Lebkuchen, kebabs and overpriced
leather accessories. On the steps of St. Lorenz an older man
smoking with a crowd of mohawked teenagers accosts me, "Was
ist los?!!" I take my time to take in the wonder of the
Sebalduskirche, saddened by the remnants of war the building still
betrays. On my way out of the Sebalduskirche a jolly stocky man
approaches me and gushes, "Haben Sie Hunger?" and gave me a
large bag of pastries left over from a wedding. I climb to the top of
the town castle, which affords a breathtaking view of the old
city--I can see all its churches and slanted roofs with a sickly
industrial smoke rising from a plant in the distance. A modest
repast of penne and salad and I'm on my way home, ready to
venture further when time allows.
