Fässla, Bamberg 14:50
Mike suggests stopping by in Fässla on the way back to the station. No argument from me. More beer. Whoppee! Spezial is closed, anyway. So no real choice.
It's mobbed. We have to sit in the corridor. Just far enough away from the nicotine junkies to have fresh air.
Fässla Lagerbier - see:
I'm not a beer geek. I just photograph every beer I drink. Totally normal.
There's a train timetable by the door. And a bus one. How thoughtful.
Fässla Lagerbier - full of buttery somethingness. I'm sure the picky would pick that as a fault. I'm pickiness free.
"You're going to have to mark this down, Mike."
"Where? On the beermat?
"The score. Mark it down. Knock off points."
"For the diacetyl."
A bunch of young Yanks has just walked past, wearing Lederhosen (even the girls) and carrying an American football. The middle-aged bloke on the next table, until now hyponotised by his pint, gives them a look. It could have been of scorn or pity. Or porn or scitty. He wasn't impressed.
"Best fucking schnitzel ever man." More Americans in trad German gear, this time coming in. What on earth is going on?
Air-conditioning. The gift of the gods. Thank god it isn't as effing hot today. 19º C. I can walk without an impromptu sweat bath.
Oh look - Weyermann. "Mike, look. Weyermann!"
He isn't paying attention. Too busy playing patience on his bloody iPhone.
Aufsesser Dunkel - I got this in REWE in Buttenheim this morning. Forward planning. That's what It's all about. Full of dunkly goodness. What is that flavour a proper Dunkles has? Sort of malty. And somethingy. Mmm. Tasterrific, whatever it is.
Lichtenfels Bahnhof - time for some cheapo, impulse schnapps, picked up in Bamberg. Full of schnappy goodness.
I'm relaxing. And trying to forget our upcoming country stroll. Will it be as bad as I fear?
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