A Night In Cologne

Last Friday, the 22nd, Justin and I made a quick trip north to Cologne (Köln) to visit our friend John. John is a Chicago friend who I worked with, and more importantly, took the train with, in Chicago.

John had been in Europe for about 10 days attending a wedding in Hamburg and going on a side trip to Poland. Justin and I met John on the eve of his departure back to the states and toured around with him for a while.

We met in front of the famous Cologne Cathedral (see picture above, though I think I shouldn't have used a flash) and wandered the streets of this hopping town. Justin and I had only been in Cologne once before, five years ago, for all of ten minutes, and we definitely got a better feel for the city this time around.

John said his trip was great, but that northern Germany and Poland are so used to their own cultures that they don't really want or accept foods from other places. He said he really had a hankering for some tropical fruit, such as pineapple, but couldn't find it anywhere.

After walking for a bit around Cologne's pedestrian zone, we picked a very good dining establishment thanks to advice from John's travel guide. This popular, beer-hall-type restaurant, was crowded, but not with the crush of tourists I expected. Most of the patrons seemed to be locals who enjoyed the restaurant's Kölsch (a local beer served in small glasses which they put in front of you without you asking or ordering) and the traditional Friday-night special of potato pancakes called Reibekueche (probably due to Cologne's strong Catholic population). The food was great; we all enjoyed our potato pancakes (with salmon, ham-and-cheese, or with applesauce) and the overall atmosphere. Unfortunately, John couldn't find any pineapple here, either. So, downtrodden, we settled the bill and headed into the night for a bit of tasty ice cream. Luckily, that cheered John up a bit and we were able to happily walk around some more and find a cozy seat on a park bench overlooking a large statue of a decapitated head.
The next morning Justin and I picked John up at his hotel and then loaded into the car (well, the boys and John's luggage were in the car; I was strapped on top) for the drive down to Wiesbaden.

Once we got back to our apartment, Justin made a wonderful pancake breakfast for the three of us. The guys then headed out for a walk around Wiesbaden while I handcuffed myself to the computer to get some work done. On their walk, John thankfully found what he was looking for - he was able to finally sniff the tropical yumminess of a tiny pineapple at our weekly market before calling it a morning and heading to the Frankfurt airport.

It was a very nice to see John, however brief the visit was.

Moral to this blog: You don't even have to come to Wiesbaden to see Justin and me. We will actually act as an airport shuttle service for you and throw in a free breakfast if it means we get to spend some time with our dear readers/friends.

The End