Being a tourist in your dream to someplace in Germany has it's cons (the horrors!) and pros (it's not real. Phew.)
On boisterously entering a german restaurant filled with happy and boisterous german customers, our order of german sausages brought forth an army of Einsatzgruppen who were not so happy at our calling their wursts as sausages.
I was dragged onto the 2nd storey of a double-decked roofless bus to be sent somewhere, but I managed to do some Jackie Chan stunts and jumped onto a nearby car (driven by a naked German [guy... sigh.] who happened to be sunbathing (?) )
I hid in a corner of the car (god knows how) and dropped myself off to a snowy atmosphere resembling a scene from 'The Little Matchstick Girl', to stare into a kitchen filled with buxomy female chefs preparing german wurst. A few of them saw me in the harsh elements and came out to give me a long chain of german wurst (??).
Then I woke up hungry.
I think I have been reading too much Blackadder.
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