Another wet day, regretfully with my field of vision hampered by rain-spattered glasses and a peaked cap. I’m sure there was lots of lovely countryside beside the Oder – I read that much of it is unique and protected on both sides of the border – but I can’t say I saw it. However, thanks to my limited scope, I did notice occasional small piles of stones by the side of fields – presumably the Feldstein that so many churches and village buildings are made of around here.
Angermünde is en fête: a Stadtfest is currently going on in the Markt outside the hotel. A local rock band is mangling Steve Miller’s “I’m a joker, I’m a smoker, I’m a midnight toker” as I type. (We’ve also had lots of the Stones, some Beatles, and my money is on a bit of Neil Young before the night is much older. Do German rock bands shun German rock?) My hopes for a decent night’s sleep depend on the cold weather and yet more rain curtailing the grim merriment.
Angermünde is the perfect example of a town robbed of its industry and gifted tourism in its place. The Markt is nicely restored, all the notable buildings bear plaques listing their contribution to the town, this hotel is trying very hard to be stylish, the Stadtfest is a prelude to a German-Polish Blasmusikfest . . . and yet . . . Is it working?