07 December 2011
And lo, an Angel of the Lord said unto Old Teasel, “Get thee down Broadmead and the German Market.” And Old Teasel did hearken unto the angel and met his mate Mike there. For Mike had set all in motion, yea even four years ago, and knoweth the stall-holders mightily.
Mike’s the bloke in the hat. He’s a City supporter, but he can’t help that, and thanks to him, this bleak spot – which normally looks as if it was designed for tanks to turn round in – is busy with sparkly ginger huts dispensing glühwein, beer, bratwurst, and roast pork.
Behind the counter is Michael Spahn – spezialitäten vom schwenkgrill. He and his partner come from Germany every year. On 23rd they’ll pack up and drive all the way home again for 24th and 25th, then start work next day for a market in Berlin. As well as selling splendid sausages and pork roasts to Bristolians pre-Crimbo, they do the same for skiers in Austria and at rock festivals. So, you might run into Michael at Glastonbury, and one way and another you might be peckish. Today, Mike and I had glühwein, weissbier from the oldest brewery in the world (see pic), and two kinds of sausage. Cheers. Very much.
Thus Old Teasel departed amidst the cautious Christmas punters, the buskers, chuggers and hard-up hustlers, the carols, and a choo-choo train going ting-ting. Whereupon an angel did put him aboard a number 75 bus home to Horfield.
Post by our lovely guest blogger Old Teasel.
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