THÜRINGEN WALD

Hi, crazy world, found that I had become a prisoner in Thüringen, so I decided to make the most of it (in other words constant trips to Berlin were too expensive. At first I reckoned I could go up every weekend, but this proved to be wildly optimistic. Trouble is the cost of travel, accommodation, meals etc etc and when all of these bills arrive at once it means a Hell of a bill.) Last weekend I took the bike onto the train, bought a Thüringen hopper ticket, went to Arnstadt, the place where JS Bach held his first appointment as Kantor, then proceeded to get lost in the Thüringen Wald. Got off the train somewhere nr Meiringen and cycled to Suhl, a place held in limbo somewhere in the God know´s where of the Thüringen landschaft, infested with oodles of Rentners. Seemed bizarre, this small city with blocks of flats splitting to the seams with Rentners hanging out of balconies, stuffed into portmantea seats and tiny dungeons. Then I took the train to Plau, another village located inbetween Arnstadt, Suhl and Ilmenau. I waited in this orifice of nothingness for 2 hours, then the train to Ilmenau arrived and I drove back with it, enviously eyeing up someone´s mountain bike as a putative replacement for my own chopper, an alu bike long past its sell by date which earlier bore me between Meiringen and Suhl, but almost disintegrated half-way between much to my consternation. Luckily I´m handy with the bike mechanics, so with a rubber band solution and on a wing and a prayer, I struggled onwards. Arnstadt is undoubtedly an interesting place, a little place of innocence and joy where it all began. I mean the Old Testament of music. There was a wedding taking place in the Bachkirche and friendly locals (???) arm in arm. Public events of any kind embarrass the Hell out of me so I went to hide in the shade while admiring the Bach statue there, which shows Bach truly relaxed, a very modern take on his memory. There isn´t even an echo of Germany´s darker moments there, just broad avenues filled with light, giant trees shaking in the wind and windy locals giving it their all. For some backside music go to the local pub, where loads of beerish swine fart out all the motets and recitatives you love. JS Bach roll over in your grave. I´m going back to camcorder a rendition of Bach´s Christmas Oratorio by the choir of Bach arses, the Knieper, Bogglemindstraße.