So I ducked into a small store and bought an umbrella. This small sacrifice apparently pleased the rain gods, because they let up for the rest of the afternoon. I was even able to pull my camera from under my raincoat without suffering any reprisals.
The streets were pretty crowded in spite of the rain. I walked around quite a bit, taking a photo or two when the light was agreeable. I took pictures of a couple of churches, and another couple of buildings.
This building is just to the left of the church, as viewed from the same spot. 
I believe this is a private apartment building. I didn't see any signs on or around it to lead me to think otherwise. I really liked the colors and the sun seemed to be hitting it well. It's a beautiful building.
These buildings are in a row that faces a park area that leads to another church. The pictures of that church didn't turn out well at all. Perhaps the rain gods were upset that I was using there leniency to take pictures of buildings that were put up in reverence to another god. Something about having strange gods before them... In the lower left you can see a statue of a horse. My German is a little shaky, but I think it's Mr. Ed. He is up on his hind legs getting ready to kick Wilbur's ass! I don't think this episode ever made it to the airwaves.
As I was exploring and taking these pictures for you, I also noticed a couple of the stores were closing up. I sort of remembered that someone had mentioned that practically everything is closed on Sunday. So I started hunting down some food stuffs for tomorrow. A couple of rolls and some cheese were purchased at a food market. The plan was to obtain some type of cured meat product at another store that had been scoped out earlier; however, the store was closed when I arrived. It must have closed at 5:00 PM, on Saturday. This place is going to take some getting used to!
So with cheese sandwiches on the menu for tomorrow, the mission changed to obtaining suitable fare before retiring to the hotel. And suitable fare was found! Dinner was Veal Schnitzel with boiled potatoes, a small salad, and a side order of kraut. It had occurred to me that I had been in Germany for almost a week already, and had not eaten any kraut yet. The salad, which was mostly shredded cabbage and shredded carrots on top of a little lettuce and a few other vegetables, was excellent. The dressing seemed like a lighter version of a ranch, but without the cloying sweetness. The main plate arrived with two beautiful pieces of veal that were pounded thin, breaded, and pan fried to a near perfect golden brown. This was accompanied by boiled potato chunks which were sufficiently tender but not all mushy. Perfect. The schnitzel came with butter on top, and this was later sopped up with the potatoes. The kraut was also excellent. There was no hint of sulfur or any vinegary flavor. If I would have grown up around kraut like this, I may have taken a liking to it before I entered my forties.
Of course maybe the kraut wasn’t as good as I’m thinking it was. Perhaps it was only a serviceable example of true German kraut. Maybe it was the surroundings that made it seem so good. Perhaps it was the schnitzel (which was excellent, I’m not backing down from that judgement) and potatoes that just made it seem right. Possibly it was the kind older woman who kept bringing me glasses of hefeweizen. It is conceivable that the kraut tasted better because today, for the first time I've been here, I was asked if I was European…
Between the market and the restaurant a passing car had splashed some water on me. The entire front of my pants was wet when I walked into the restaurant. I took off my jacket and the old man at the door said, “European?”
I replied, “No, a car just splashed water on me”
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