The Markt Post, mark 5? 6? Who knows.

I don't know what it is about the Saturday markt, but it always inspires me to write. And I knew, after the hell that was spring term, it was going to take something special to get me going again.

Today has been special: a man, in tux and tophat, with a hand-organ, singing appallingly traditional songs. Oooh! and now one of the vendors is whistling along -- well -- and several people are walking around singing along! It's like a bad Hollywood musical of Germany, but with good coffee and sincerity! You can't make this stuff up.

Sometimes I really love Germany.