Muenster is an interesting town, a mix of medeival and modern. We had lunch in a cobblestone sidewalk cafe, within sight of an ancient cathedral with metal cages hanging from the steeple (probably for Protestants). A street musician started playing accordian, which we enjoyed for a few minutes. But he only knew one song, and so he had to keep moving along to change his audience.
This was a maintenance day. German laundromats are very clean and efficient. One coin slot operated everything. While the wash was turning, Mark and I had a short beer up the street in a neighborhood bar, where old guys brought their own darts in little wooden cases.
Bicycles were everywhere in this town, just as in Amsterdam. Europeans don’t seem to mind walking, biking or taking the stairs. Almost everyone looks trim and fit. When we get home I’m thinking of setting up a bike like a European town-bike, with a chain guard and high handlebars, for neighborhood errands.
The next day we drove up to Worpswede, near Bremen. This village was the center of an art movement in the late 1800s, when painters left the cities to move to the countryside. Today there are still several galleries and an artist colony in there. Our venue, the Music Hall, has been presenting live music since 1881 — and that’s in the new part of the building.
Shows at the Music Hall are organized by a nonprofit group of volunteers, and they couldn’t have treated us any better. Our host, Uli, gave us a guided walking tour of the town. Backstage hospitality included a spread of snacks and coffee at load-in, then a hot meal and a bar staffed by two wonderful ladies.
We had a great audience to play to. After the show we hung around the backstage bar with several of the volunteers. They shared with us a local drink called Jan Torf. It came in little shot bottles. The rule was that the first time you tasted it — and after than whenever you wanted — you had to put the bottle cap on the end of your nose and drink from the little bottle held in your mouth with no hands. The tiny bottle cap wouldn’t stay on Franher’s nose, so one of the ladies pulled a big red cap off a water bottle and stuck that on there. At some point I wandered back on stage, and for a while I played a grand piano to an empty hall.