Another day amongst fields, but not as expansive as yesterday. I’ve now realised why “Bielefeld” has a familiar ring: I’m sure there are things on the bathroom shelf or kitchen cupboards at home manufactured here.
It’s a pleasant enough city, although cycling into it on the Bundesstraße (the Radweg signs ran out) did it no favours. In the centre there’s a bit of Weser Renaissance, some neo-Weser Renaissance (the old Rathaus), some early 20th century and lots of modern stuff. I visited the Kunsthalle . . . for about 10 minutes. I was impressed by the cyclopean size (Philip Johnson, 1968), but found absolutely nothing inside apart from irritation that this wonderful space was wasted on exhibitions by Olaf Nicolai and Michel Majerus. I came over all Ruskiny and decided to waste no more time there.