Dan rose early and went for a jog around the trail we had seen the day before – to add another destination to his world tour of runs. He said it was a really pleasant run because of the shade but the previous days’ rain, the leaf litter was very mulch like and also very slippery. No injuries, although the floor was covered in muddy footprints. We had a fairly relaxed day starting with a simple breakfast from a bakery on the side of the plaza – the Germans love bread and whole grain and rye bread in particular and these bakeries provide a very cheap (and delicious) way to start or end the day (or indeed interrupt it for lunch. Our breakfast cost less than 10 euros and included a delectable egg sandwich a cherry Danish, a hotdog baked in a roll, a second hot pastry, coke, coffee and bottled water! Though carb laden – what German meal isn’t – it felt healthier and fresher than the other breakfast we had been eating. These days I am almost proficient at using German wasch salons but this one actually came with a helper to provide the washing powder and help you with the machine – only problem was she spoke only German which actually made everything harder. Eventually we got there and also got the washing done. Incidentally, the wasch salon had also caught the hipster infestation with its own palette furniture out the front.
After a suitably relaxed wander around town in the afternoon, we jumped a train to Dülmen, a little village not far from Münster. The purpose of our trip (or at least the excuse for it was a wedding. A long-time friend was marrying his German fiancé and we couldn’t help but come to Germany to experience a real German wedding. In keeping with the theme of the wedding (and the marriage really) the bride-to-be’s parents invited all the freeloading Australians who had travelled to their home for a barbecue – a German barbecue with some of the most delectable treats ever – including a bomb – well seasoned and sauced meatloaf wrapped in bacon. This was washed down with (quite a bit) of German beer and wine. It wasn’t the food that was the star of the evening – the bride’s parents were gracious and welcoming hosts and entertained the rowdy bunch of Australians until well after 10pm. It was a pleasant evening in their beautiful home in the small village – in Australian terms more the size of a regional centre. Many of the houses in the neighbourhood were duplexes with small yards but common playground areas for children. And while they look small, most are two stories with extensive basements below. Our hosts had redecorated since their children had grown and their backyard was an entertainer’s paradise with no grass to mow but a beautiful well-tended garden full of sculptures made by our host. (Cherry Poppin’ Daddy Strut – A bit swing standard, a bit Dixieland, this is a nice surprise from the modern day officianados of swing and reminds me how much I want to visit New Orleans.
It was a pleasant evening and a nice way to meet before the big day. We bade our farewells about 10pm and caught a train back to the hotel to get a good night’s sleep. At least that was the plan. Sometimes it doesn’t matter how many times you explain that you are going overseas, there is always someone who doesn’t quite get it. I got the phone call that shouldn’t have happened at 3am and it made me a bit of a wreck for the following day.
