Ordering the wine
So I've learned today; if a German waiter asks if you want dry red wine, say yes. You'll still get something that tastes like Kool-Aid made under a six year old's direction and discretion. I had a second flasche (you don't get a glass, you get a little 0.4 liter carafe to pour into your glass) because of the other spectacle. Tonight was apparently family night at the hotel and there was one huge table accomodating six adults and six children. From what I could tell it was two doting grandparents and two of their siblings with spouses. Needless to say the kids got rowdy and the few other people in the restaurant began to give disapproving looks. It was then that the unthinkable happened. Every single offending child in the group was marched out of the dining area and disciplined into silence for the meal. We are no longer in America.
Today was Saturday and also a bank holiday. A bank holiday seems to carry about the same weight here as Chistmas or New Year's. Everything was closed. I took the opportunity to shop for a car without the kind help of sales people.
Around lunch time, I was hungry and desperate to find somewhere open. I had to eat at McDonald's. I think that's at least one aspect of American culture best left in America. The 1/4 pounder is indeed a Royale with cheese incountries with the metric system.
I found a car but, of course, no sales person to help. I'm worried I'll lose my first choice (Porsches aside) like all the other options here. It's an Audi A4, older with ridiculous low kilometers and an honest to God tuner car in the German fashion, which means factory certified and done right. We'll find out tomorrow.