Nada markt Bochum

We walked miles today, in the freezing cold, across industrial wastelands made good, through pretty allotments with their  pretty white washed sheds, through old mills and mining stacks.  We drank Jever Pils in a Milchausen, ate real stollen from East Germany around Marc's neat table while blue tits danced on his balcony.  We watched the crowds arrive for the Barcelona/ Dortmund match and ate Reibekuchen with apple compote.  We drank mulled wine with Cointreau on a carousel bar and bought Scandinavian candles with angels that turn in the hot air of tea lights.