I went to Germany and came back

Probably that’s not such a deed; many people have done it in quite adverse conditions, like the Romans, in sandals, or Churchill, with no hair.

Anyway, I arrived with my hair and shoes by sunrise, everything was closed except for the ruins; I guess you can never close ruins, they are normally ruined, windowless, doorless and ceilingless, and you would have to rebuild them to accomplish any kind of isolation from the outside. But I did not get in until I was sure that the Roman centurion at the door left for his lunch hour, you don’t want to mess with a hungry soldier.

This was right after I had my first mulled wine; I think I may had drank some more wine which of course had no impact in the factual description of what passed in front of my eyes:
- german men all seem to grow blonde moustaches, even if the colour doesn’t match with their clothing; the younger ones tend to grow piercings in the eyebrows;

- although it was cold as hell (or as heaven, I guess hell is quite warm), I saw mary christmas in a miniskirt several times, always smiling for me and saying “Danke”, which is the German word for “I would love to stop by your place tonight but Santa wants me to comb his beard”;

- the mug of the hot wine was a kind of boot, possibly from Santa Claus, and progressively got emptier while I was drinking.

Just go there!