Travel: Germany Epilogue - Airport Snobs & Aged Doppelbocks

Waiting patiently at a checkout...

Waiting...

Waiting...

'Oh, hello. Just this please.' I place a bottle on the counter.

'That is not pils.' He says in a Teutonic accent. I get sniffed at...

I hate getting sniffed at.

'Er, I know.'

'This is a strong beer.' He holds it up to my eye level, tapping the bottle with manicured finger nails.

'Yes ... I know.'

'You can not drink it like a normal beer.' A finger is waggled at me, as if I'm a bold child.

'I know. Can I just buy it please?'

'I suppose so ... but do not open it here.' He looks me up and down taking in my dishevelled appearance, which is my default look to be fair.

I pay.

'You obviously don't need it wrapped.' The sniff again and bottle is shoved toward me with two fingers...

Then he gazes past me and pats down his overly perfect hair, picks a piece of lint from his emmaculate black shirt and turns his back, to do something noteworthy to caviar or something French and bubbly.

The above interaction took place in The Caviar and Champagne Emporium of Snooty Service or something like that in a German airport, and prompted me to utter a slightly high pitched 'Harumph', grab my bottle from the counter and march indignantly away muttering about beer and food snobs and hoping that the next bottle of champagne the guy opened took his eye out.

Or at least ruined his hair...

This started because wanted to bring back a beer from my Wiesbaden and Mainz trip and as usual there was nothing amongst the whisk(e)ys, wines and liqueurs in the airport's duty free or whatever it's now called. I had spotted the above establishment and took a chance that they might have a local beer or two. The had a few bottles hidden in the back of a fridge and the Lahnsteiner Martinator I spotted was localish, and as it ended in 'ator' it seemed a safe bet as something that might appeal to me. I presumed it would be a doppelbock or something close given its 8% abv but either way I just wanted a souvenir to bring home and perhaps have at Christmas ... but after all of that I forgot to have it then and kept putting off opening it, never finding a suitable moment.

Almost 12 months later I find the beer lying forlornly at the salad drawer of the fridge surrounded by wrinkled carrots and a disturbing blue substance that may have been cheese in a previous existence. I'm heading off on a Christmas trip again in a few days time so I thought I might as well crack it open now. It is 5 days past its best-before date so I am not hoping for freshness...

But it's very lively, with a big fluffy head creeping up over the top of the glass.

I took a big gulp...

I tasted ginger at first and then a little clove, then came a big sweet rush of honey as the softness of the beer coated my mouth and when that slowly receded there remained a slight hint of something fruity like sweet glacé cherries. There was little or no discernible bitterness, so the hops had either dropped out over time or were well blended with the other flavours.

Perhaps time and my fridge were kind to the beer but for whatever reasons I really enjoyed it, although I do feel that my tasting notes were sprinkled with fairydust, laden with lebkuchen crumbs and glühwein essence...

But that guy was right in fairness, it's not a pils.

Liam

Travel: Christmas Market, Wiesbaden, Germany - Sated Senses, Steam and Sustenance

The spectacular living Poinsettia Tree in the Kurhaus, Wiesbaden

I'm not a big Christmas fanatic...

In fact I have a slight Scrooge-like attitude to all the spending and nonsense that's associated with the so-called festive period. This is probably due to spending too long in retail, purchasing and then selling all the shiny Christmas tat that people feel obliged to cover every surface of their house in at that time of year.

But if I'm being honest then I must admit that there are parts I enjoy too, such as seeing how much kids enjoy Christmas, the chance to unashamedly cook goose, wear loud jumpers and play with lasers, LEDs, fibre optics and other ways of lighting up the house and causing my hair to stand on end.

The other big Christmassy thing I do is visiting European Christmas markets, and it's something I really look forward to every year. It's probably because of my deep seated wanderlust, combined with all of the new sights and sounds of course but it's also because a good market waylays your other senses too. The taste of new food, the smell of various roasting meats, or spiced aromas of Christmas tipples ... and the feeling of being wrapped up snuggly in folds of cotton and wool, mingling with my own layer of bacon-laden fat.

But I tend to shy away from the more traditional Christmas market destinations in Germany such as Cologne, Berlin, Stuttgart and Munich and instead try to seek out places off the beaten track, as I hope that these will be slightly less commercial(!), cheaper and most importantly more interesting than the larger ones. I prefer markets that are more local than touristy, which I know is tinged with irony given I am a tourist..

This means that I've seen Düsseldorf, Augsburg, Hamburg - which was a big one admittedly - amongst others, and now Wiesbaden - pronounced 'veece-bah-den'. I visited Vienna too but it was too large for a short trip and although I enjoyed it immensely, I regretted too much the things I had missed ... but vowed to get back there again.

Wiesbaden wouldn't be first on many people's list of Christmas market destinations but that was one of the appealing things of course. It also helped that it is easily and quickly accessible from Frankfurt airport, as a key part of these trips is finding somewhere with early flights in and late flights out to make the most of my precious few days. It's not full of the traditional wood framed house one expects from certain parts of Germany and instead is a pleasant and striking mish-mash of neo-gothic, baroque and other classically flouncy styles.

Okay, I won't bore you with too much detail but here are a few photo highlights from the trip with a few notes...

Marktkirche - An imposing and dramatic brownstone edifice in the centre of the city.

A beautiful art nouveau mural on Bahnhofstraße close to our hotel. It's great to see this type of accessible art sneak into Irish cities too like Limerick and Waterford.

A fantastic food market with a great range of unusual and colourful produce. I'd love it on my doorstep!

Nice brunch in the trendy  Du & Ich - Focaccia with a bottle of Hamburg's finest Astra Urtyp with its mild but bitterly acrid taste.

A Giant cuckoo clock outside a shop whose staff followed us around as if we were shoplifters! Needless to say we bought nothing in the place but I had fun picking stuff up and walking around with it before putting it back on a different shelf, much to the annoyance of said staff.

The remains of some Roman - and not-so-Roman - ruins tucked up a side street, interesting viewing tower too.

One of the many gorgeous buildings dotted around  the city.

We took a break in Der Andechser in the Ratskeller under the Neues Rathaus. I enjoyed a very nice Andechser Dunkel with an ubiquitous pretzel -  my dunkel tasted of bitter malt and ginger, with an acidic-metallic quality and a dash of cola perhaps. The very cool bottling machine sits in the entrance hall, ignored by all but me it seems!

Neues Rathaus and Marktkirche looking elegant on a winter day, viewed from Warmer Damm.

Church doors with the now familiar brownstone of this area of germany.

The fantastic thermal spring on Kochbrunnen Platz. This also explains why we spotted steam escaping from manhole covers around the city, and the rotten egg smell that lingers in this spot!

Bäckerbrunnen - A nice old fashioned bar where I had a very drinkable Diebels Altbier with its very mild ginger and digestive biscuit flavour. 

Extremely well merchandised christmas shops with an obvious slant towards European tastes.

Sternschnuppenmarkt -  The Twinkling Star Christmas Market was packed every evening and full of the usual foods, novelties and decorations. It sprawls in a good way along a number of streets but is easy to get around and well laid out.

Beer and a burger in the excellent Nassau Burger & Beef Company - They stock both German micro beers and a few foreign imports. Its a rustic spot with loads of wood and very friendly staff. I had a Wiesbadener Pale Ale that was mild for the style but extremely tasty with hints of cardamom and ginger biscuit too. I followed this with a Hanscraft & Co. Nizza Wheat Pale Ale  that had a lovely balance of clove and citrus with a bacon-like aftertaste. I paired it with a bacon jam burger cooked medium with the most fantastic fries. The burger itself was nicely pink but a little bit over seasoned, even for me. I finished up on Hanscraft & Co. Backbone Splitter - one of my favourite beers of the trip, bitter as hell with a big kick of spicy grapefruit hops. 

Dunkel in Weihenstephaner on Taunusstraße - It tasted of sweet barley sugar and clove, with brown soda bread. I was also given the Possmann Frau Rauscher Speierling cider by someone who hated it. It was extremely bitter after the beer but really refreshing, reminding me of a Belgian Oude Gueuze!

Maisel & Friends in Spital Bar (Now Closed) - We shared these three Maisel & Friends bottles - The Bavarian Ale was all mandarin oranges, clove and funky cheese with a chewy-sweet finish. The Chocolate Bock tasted of of cocoaed Bovril with maybe a hint of smoked bacon -  rich and chewy too with tons of body. The Pale Ale had a whiff of old cheese with some lemongrass and perhaps custard cream biscuits. All three were excellent, as the suited the mood and company. We also bought a couple of those cool glasses to bring home!

My final morning breakfast of bacon and eggs - naturally - in La Maison du Pain.

The fantastic walk way under Gustav-Stresemann-Ring near Wiesbaden Hauptbahnhof - This reminded me so much of the Chagall stained glass windows in Mainz that I posted about here.

So that's a quick photo reel of some of my highlights of Wiesbaden. It's certainly an excellent city to visit for its Christmas market and makes a change from the timbered old-style german towns we normally frequent. It's easy to get to and you'll have plenty to do, we missed out on a couple of places such as Baron von Richthofen's grave and the Russian Orthodox Church of Saint Elizabeth to mention just two! Don't forget Mainz and Frankfurt are close too...

You'll find more information on the city here.

Auf Wiedersehen!

Liam

Travel: Mainz, Germany - Part 2 - Bibles, Brews and Feeling Blue

(Part 1 is here)

My love of books, and reading in general, has influenced my life since I was a kid. One of the first books I got seriously immersed in was Tolkien's The Hobbit, which led me on to The Lord of the Rings and then on to the brilliant, melancholy-inducing and often ignored stories in The Silmarillion. Terry Pratchett too, still gives me huge entertainment on rereads, and I got my kicks from Bob Shaw in the past, although his books were hard to source.

And not just books of course, as I grew up in the heyday of the weekly comic. I evolved from The Beano to Tiger, and then on to drooling over 2000AD's Halo Jones in my teens, drawn by the brilliant Ian Gibson. (My only other print related crush was -  perhaps bizarrely - Estella in Great Expectations, which perhaps tells a tale in itself.)

My tastes changed over the years and at this point I'm reading Bill Bryson repeatedly and letting a deeply disturbing John Connolly haunt my thoughts and dreams in a thoroughly creepy fashion with his novels and short stories ... and there are many others too.

So with this in mind you can imagine my interest in the Gutenberg Museum in Mainz, the city where Johannes Gutenberg was born and died, as this was a shrine to one of the greatest innovations and perhaps innovators of all time. Like many inventors I'm pretty sure it's better to say he improved on the the idea of using movable type and the printing press more so than inventing it. Either way he was responsible for revolutionising how books were made and therefore who could access - and learn from - them. Gutenberg and his 'invention' influenced the thought process of many and in the long run probably inspired, directly and indirectly, more people than any other inventor in history in my opinion.

My other travelling companions decided to head off and do some shopping so it was just myself and my other half who headed across to the east side of the cathedral to the museum. It was founded in 1900 in honour of Gutenberg and has since been expanded to include all type(!) of printing methods and examples from ancient to modern times. We excitedly headed in and paid the entrance fee, eager to learn more and enthusiastic to see the history of printing and of Gutenberg himself.

But my was it hard going...

I love the idea of recording information and disseminating to the greater world and I have always had an interest in how printing came to be. I'm not knowledgeable enough to know how and where the concept of writing, painting, stamping, imprinting, etc. began but this place goes a long way to answering that, although obviously the main focus is on the Gutenberg and post Gutenberg era of printing. My downfall was the amount of information, printed texts, images and items on display. Straining to see gorgeous lithographs, interesting books, early newspapers, beer bottle labels, and tons of other printed items take their toll on your eyes, spine and brain until you feel weary and exhausted from doing nothing but ... well ... looking at minute texts, many in languages you can't comprehend, but driven to continue by your interest in the topic.

As fascinating as it all was, they could really do with a bar or café half way through!

But I still really, really enjoyed it all so much. The highlight was getting to see two of Gutenberg's original 42 line bibles from the 1450s. These were the books that started the printing revolution as they were the first to be printed with his moveable type system and the first to be mass produced - relatively speaking, as only 150 were produced. To view the books we headed into a secure, guarded, safe-like room where the bibles along with other rare texts are displayed by spotlight and treated with the reverence they deserve, which is less about their content and more to do with their rarity and actual existence.

It was the highlight in every way of the museum, and although the  actual printing process has moved on from Gutenberg's process the basic concept remains the same.

Ecstatic but tired we wandered on through some more rooms showing printing and script from the Middle and Far East but at this point we were physically and mentally exhausted, and ready for food, rest and a well-earned beer.

(This image of the bible was provided by the museum and is subject to their copyrights and permissions of use.)

We met up with the rest of our crew and headed to the south of the city, back through the altstadt. A short but pleasant walk took us to Eisgrub Bräu on Weißliliengass. It's not the easiest place to find but we soon spotted the sign outside a very pretty building with bags of character, and we wandered across the road and headed inside.

My first impression was that this was very much a sports bar, as there were televisions showing football and plenty of noisy people decked out just like all all other sports fans from every part of the world. We passed beautiful copper kettles to our right on the way in, strategically placed to catch the eye and reinforce that we were in a brew pub. We made our way toward the back and found some seats close to the bar where we were quickly attended to by an efficient member of staff who apologetically informed us that they had just changed their menu and that they hadn't any English versions yet. He gave us English copies of the old menus and promised to guide us through the new menu if we needed it. Tired and thirsty we chose our beers first, with my choice being a Märzen, which arrived quickly in a branded glass.

I would hardly claim to be an expert on the style but this was certainly clean and dryish with a taste of malted milk biscuits and a touch of cane sugar, with sparing hop use ... a fine beer and exactly what I wanted at that point.

The bar area itself was clean and tidy, and surprisingly devoid of customers as most seemed to be eating at tables while engrossed in the match, which I now realised was being played by a local team. This also explained the lively crowd and all the noise!

The whole brewpub was very well laid out - decorated with copper fitting, those midcentury enamel lampshades that have become so popular, and comfortable wooden furniture. The curved ceilings gave the place an intimate feeling and added to its charm and enhanced that 'comfortable' feeling I get when I find a place that syncs with my mood and eclectic taste.

After looking at the menu, and with help from our friendly staff member, we made our choices and chatted for a while. Nige had finally shown up after getting slightly lost but he too was in good form. As the others filled him in on our day so far I went for a self-guided tour of the bar and brewing process, from the aforementioned kettles at the front all the way through to the storage tanks, which appeared to be feeding directly into the taps at the bar. I was surprised by the open fermentors on display, although they are in their own isolated room, as I had just assumed that they would be closed, or at least covered ... but from tasting the beer the system obviously works. After a good nose around I headed back to my table to be greeted by my food...

As you can imagine from the picture I was more than a little disappointed...

I had ordered meatloaf with and egg and potatoes and I had imagined a slice or two of moist, minced pork meatloaf, with a poached or lightly fried egg and some oven roasted potatoes, perhaps some relish and bread on the side - not a fried slice, crispy egg and crinkle chips. The sachets of mustard and ketchup added little to the image.

But looking to my right I saw that my other half had chosen more wisely...

She had picked the smoked sausages which came with gherkin, a gorgeous fresh salad with sweetcorn, brown bread and the seemingly ubiquitous condiment sachets. As often in my life I was filled with food envy, especially when I sampled her meal, as those sausages were tubes of smoky wonderfulness.

To be honest my own meal was okay ... the meatloaf was nicely seasoned and when combined with the chips and a little mustard was actually quite tasty, if a little stodgy.

I ordered another beer to wash this all down and this time went for the Schwarzbier, which tasted of mild, milk chocolate. It was sweet and easy drinking with a fluffy head with very little bitterness - very fresh and enjoyable, an ideal dessert.

Don't be put off by my meal ... this is a nice bar and restaurant. It's lively, interesting and full of character and characters. The beer is fresh and very drinkable, and you can see the brewing process in action. The service was excellent and most importantly we had a great afternoon. My other half even bought me a souvenir glass because ... well ... you know, she's comfortable with my healthy love of glassware.

Time was pressing on and the light was beginning to fade so we made our way out, as I was afraid we would miss out on what I hoped would be one of the highlights of our Mainz trip.

I must admit that I knew very little about Marc Chagall before researching this trip, outside of the fact that he was an 20th century 'modern' artist that dabbled in various media from paint to ceramic to stained glass. I don't plan on outlining his biography here but there has been a lot written about him so a quick web search will tell you more.

St. Stephan's Church to the west of the city, and just a short uphill walk from the brewpub, is the only German church that has stained glass by Chagall. We headed there now as quick as our beer and pork-filled bodies could wobble, in order to see the church while it was still bright outside. The building itself is relatively plain with little ornamentation. Like the Dom this church has seen more than its fair share of damage, so repairs are ongoing and varied. It sits in a good location looking down towards the city centre and the Dom, with the Rhine in the distance.

Walking inside I was immediately struck by the surreal feeling of being underwater, it felt harder to move ... as if someone had pressed the slow-motion button on my body and I was now walking at half my normal speed. The sound of an organ playing a sluggish, morose hymn added to this subaquatic feeling as the sounds reverberated around the building. I sat down and felt more peaceful and relaxed than in any building I had ever been in before, even the organ pipes seemed to be floating in midair. It felt like you could almost reach out and touch the colour blue itself - feel it, capture it and hoard it.

The stained glass windows that were causing this effect were beautiful and ethereal.Words - and certainly not mine - can't really describe properly how wonderful it looked and felt. It was possibly the highlight of that German trip...

But eventually we had to go, and we trooped out the door and made our way back to the train station, full of chatter, emotion and exuberance for a city I had only recently heard of and whose surface we had barely scratched, as we'd missed the Landesmuseum, Kunsthalle and the Zitadelle to name but three.

But it has left some large positive imprints in my mind and memory and if I'm ever back again I'd go back to all these sites, and more too.

I might not order the meatloaf though...

Liam

Mainz is easy to get to from Frankfurt city or airport, with a regular and efficient train service. We stayed close by in Wiesbaden, about which I will post soon.

(Apologies for picture quality)

Travel: Mainz, Germany - Part 1 - Frog Kings and Crownless Saints

Germany has always held a strange fascination to me. It's a lot to do with its long and turbulent history, plus something about the bustling cities, the enigmatic people and their often maligned food and drink culture that seems to draw me back there every year or so. This is the land of pretzels, pork knuckles, big beers and ferociously strong mustard.

I like the old-look Germany with its tall, timber framed houses, cobbled streets and gigantic churches that contrast with the new post war, so-called Brutalist buildings that bear a striking resemblance to overgrown bunkers. (Apparently without a hint of irony...) Plus the sleek, steel and glass uber-sexy structures jar your brain and makes you consider how Germany, and the rest of Europe, might have looked if history had taken a road less travelled - one of peace and tolerance...

Both of which are issues that we still face albeit from a different standpoint and perspective, and ones that were faced by every nation over the millennia that stretch back from the point of our own existence, and will no doubt affect us again in the future.

But crossing the Rhine on a cold and overcast day my mind snapped back to the present, as the excitement of heading to another unknown city had me gleefully smiling out the window as we passed over the shipping container laden bank of that broad river and on towards the city of Mainz. (I've discovered that the best way to learn how to pronounce the names of towns and cities in any country is by listening to how the train announcer says each stop. In this case I discovered it's pronounced 'Mientz.'

A giant frog with a crown was staring out over the Rhine from his perch on a pillar - a Mona Lisa-esque smile on his face - looking longly towards the river. The image was repeated in a more stylised form on the building that surround and almost hid him from view as we passed through the industrial area on the outskirts of the city. He's the logo of a chemical/electronics firm but I presume he has a longer history than the company, as frog kings or princes are in many fairy tales and folk stories. It would be interesting to find out how he came to be connected with the company, but that was research for another day I decided, as the train pulled into Mainz Hauptbahnhof.

As usual I wasn't travelling alone. As well as Pete, my other half had come on this trip with her sister and her other half, so a quintet of Irish people made their way towards to main entrance to the station and stood blinking in the newly arrived sunshine as it shone on the grubby and unattractive buildings that surrounded us - the station itself the only building of interest or note within our sights. Nige, my other usual travelling companion had elected to stay in bed for another hour or two with the promise of catching up with us later.

The station sits on the North-West side of the city centre but for some reason my internal sat nav shut down when I stood on the plaza at the front of the station, with no maps visible we asked a man standing waiting for a bus for directions to the city centre, he shrugged at me so I said 'Aldstadt?' to which he pointed vaguely in the direction of one of the street radiating out from the station logically called Bahnhoff Strasse, which we hoped led to the old town.

We thanked him, which elicited another shrug, and set off up an ugly street that we hoped led towards the city centre, Aldstadt and Dom - the large cathedral that is one of Mainz most famous sights. It was a short walk into the city proper and soon we saw signs for 'Dom' pointing our way from every junction.

The feel and look of the city improved as we walked toward the city centre. The streets broadened and the shops and business became more stylish and better maintained. We passed a memorable statue in bronze of a small fat guy with a cheery expression and a tankard of beer in his hand near the Carnival Museum - Fastnacht Museum - on Schillerstrasse, who certainly lightened our mood. Further on there was a fantastic tower made up of all manner of elves and imps (See the picture at the top of the post) and beyond that the figure of a drummer, again all in bronze.

And from there the Dom appeared in all its beige-brown glory, giving off a slightly Disneyesque quality to my mind and eye. Not that I can explain that feeling but it was probably down to the towers and turrets. Nor can I express the huge, hulking size of the building - or its brilliance of design, apparent even here as we stood gazing at it from the entrance to the market square in which it sits.

St. Martin's Cathedral's story goes back over a thousand years and due to fires, bombardments and rebuilds it comes across as a mish-mash of styles but mostly Romanesque, all pulled together in brown sandstone and greyish slate. It appears to be in a constant state of renovation, improvement and repair for the last millennia, but that could just be my poor translation of its history and assumptions based on the weathering of sandstone. Somehow it all worked, although the brown colour seemed strange and alien to me for a building such as this, but then again that's because I'm used to churches of granite, limestone or marble.

There was a service on when we entered so we made our way quietly to the courtyard, and into an actual oasis of peace within a theoretical oasis of peace. A beautiful cedar stood in perfect scale to the garden itself with its trimmed hedge and too perfect lawn. We strolled around the portico looking at the time-worn and foot-eroded tombstones and features. It was a nice brain calming process after the busy walk into the city and the bustle of the square outside.

When the service ended we wandered back into the Dom. Standing still in its centre you could finally appreciate its true size, with vast columns stretching into the void above our heads. The light had a liquid almost oily quality, accentuated by the stained glass, creating splotches and blotches of colour on the pillars, carvings, and floor.

We wandered around taking in the splendour and majesty of it all, and every now and again a little macabre grotesqueness would catch my eye, perched on a pillar or pew would be a skeletal angel or winged skull. Perhaps religion needs these reminders of death and our eventual end in order to keep the congregation focussed on the job in hand, timely reminders to them of what their fate will be in order to keep their faith instilled within them.

One statue was particularly arresting, depicting a martyr with the top of his head missing, although he's calmly cradling it in his hands so he wasn't too perturbed by the incident. My research on this led me to a new word - cephalophores. These are the head-carrying martys such as St. Denis and others who are depicted in art with their tranquil looking heads under their arms or held out in front of them. This peaceful looking soul must be a subset of these called, perhaps, demicephalophores, who carry just half of their heads around ... they might even pass as normal with a jaunty hat - and a carrier bag.

I took my time strolling around the rest of the building looking at more statues, carvings and features before wandering down underneath the main church and there discovered a small, beautiful chapel behind a locked gate. Its significance was lost to me and in many ways I felt intrusive even being down here looking in ... so I moved on, up  and out, catching up with the others with just a cautious glance back at one of the creepier statues, which I'm pretty sure tilted its skull a fraction. Perhaps I read too many of the wrong books...

We emerged back on to the the square squinting in the bright light and wandered through the market looking at the produce and stalls. It excited me to see local wine for sale at a stall. I have no idea if it was actually local, or any good, but the idea of being able to sell something like this amongst cheeses, vegetables and jams pleased me greatly. I hope that some day we'll be enlightened enough in this country to do the same with local beer and ciders.

Next we wandered out to the Iron Tower, an interesting and striking building sitting amongst boring modern structures. It was one of three gates still standing that formed part of the old city walls, the others being the Wood Tower and the Alexander Tower. Like many structures it was badly damaged in the war and rebuilt in the 60s, which explains its slightly clinical and clean appearance.

Wandering back into the city centre we headed towards the oldest part of town, or at least the only section of the city that was left standing after the war, or required the least reconstruction I'd imagine. It's just south of the Dom and there was a different feel to this area, as it was calmer and looked more affluent and exclusive. I felt a little grotty wandering around here I must admit, as if the style-police would tap me on the shoulder and frogmarch me back to the cheap department stores and kiosks on the other side of the square. Luckily - or perhaps surprisingly - this never happened. We spent a happy hour or so looking at the buildings and taking in the atmosphere, peering through windows and doors and enjoying the traditional - faux or not - feel to the place.

Time was pressing on and we still had three sites to see, so we wandered back to the north of the Dom to our next destination and a date with some old books...

Next time - Part 2: Bibles, Brews and Feeling Blue