I was already on beer number three when the waiter realized he had forgotten our beer sausages. He said he would bring them right away.
Not that I was too concerned. I was still full from my second breakfast. Yes, second breakfast. The first I ate with eyes half-open while descending in an airbus over the Fatherland. The second was a disheveled affair where I stuffed my face with Nutella and fruit at the hotel buffet.
I ordered beer number four. Our host ticked another mark on the coaster. This was tic mark number 8. Robyn was up to my challenge.
Beer in Germany costs less than soda, I jokingly observed to Robyn.
Still no beer sausages...
We struck up a light-hearted conversation with our tablemates, representatives from Milan, Paris, and Vienna who had converged upon Düsseldorf for their media company's annual meetings. They paid their bill and headed to catch their respective flights.
So we left too. Without the beer sausages. I'm still unsure what a beer sausage is. Unsure and incredibly intrigued.
We returned to Hotel Berial, thoroughly jet-lagged and slightly buzzed.
Tiredly I pulled out a napkin containing the smuggled leftovers from our earlier buffet. My third breakfast.
Three breakfasts and beer for dinner.
|The view from Hotel Berial|