THERE are many good things about travelling in Germany in their spring and one of them is fresh white asparagus. Germans worship the stuff and prepare it with great care. They’d sell their own grandmothers to get white asparagus or spargel, as it is known in Germany, where some devotees reverently refer to it as edible ivory. 

Restaurants usually have a separate spargel menu beside their standard menu during the asparagus season and that is the one from which most people order. Interestingly, you don’t see a meat dish with asparagus on the spargel menu. Menus are written the other way around – spargel first, then the choice of meat or fish or chicken next. For example spargel with pork, or spargel with schnitzel. The asparagus component is the main part of the meal. 

My good wife Barbara and I have been like the rest of Germany for the past five weeks, weeing that famous asparagus wee every day, but hey, what a small price to pay for such a delicious treat.

WE discovered the best way to upset a German local: cross the road on a red light, even on a quiet street with not a car in sight. You will get the death stare to be sure. And Germans probably have the best death stare on the planet.

“The simplest and best way to provoke some classic Teutonic anger is to meander across the road when the light is showing red,” writes one travel guide, going on to say, “You’ll be risking a fine and you may even be mowed down by a speeding vehicle, but it’s worth it to witness the expressions awaiting you on the other side of the road – all united in their righteous mix of incomprehension, disgust and outrage.”

For maximum impact,” the author playfully writes, “skip across the street with a couple of small children, whistling cheerfully as you go.”

LOVED a story from the 1600s in amazing medieval town of Quedlinburg, where we spent a few days. It seems the “lustful monks would have liaisons” between a grove of lime trees, near the monastery. Naturally this was forbidden. The Abbess in charge of the monastery wasn’t impressed, so she planted a crop of wild garlic between the lime trees. That way the next morning she could easily “convict the wrong doers via their love scent.” Sneaky trick, eh! 

WE all know that Germany is at the cutting edge of sustainable ideas. They’ve even got energy efficient, sustainable, environmentally-friendly solar and wind powered clothes dryers in Berlin. Yep, good old fashioned clothes lines strung between a couple of poles beside the canal system to collect a breeze. Still a wonderful way to get the washing dry and aired, isn’t it?

DESPITE a common misconception, Germans do have a sense of humour.

A popular joke doing the rounds in Germany at the moment concerns Chancellor Angela Merkel when she popped across to Poland recently.

"Nationality?" asked the Polish immigration officer.

"German," says Angela.

"Occupation?"

"No, just here for a few days." 

IT IS good idea to learn a bit of the local language before eating in a German restaurant. I ordered Rinderleber gerbratene on our first day in Schleswig. We were right near the border with Finland so I naturally assumed a reindeer was going to appear on my plate, a popular meal in Scandinavia. Alas, when the meal arrived it was not a reindeer, but the liver of an ox.

YES indeed, you’ve gotta love Germany. On a trendy street in a trendy part of town, a smartly dressed lady out shopping with her young sprout in a pram pops into an up-market coffee shop for a break. Does she order a skinny latte with a gluten-free donut? Not on your Nelly. 

“Ein pint bier bitte – a pint of beer, please.”

No wonder I felt at home in Germany.