Each trip tells a story in its own right. One that gets written as we travel. A new town, a new place, a new chapter. Every scene different. Sometimes fiction. Sometimes fact. Sometimes making sense. Sometimes a complete mystery. A series of unco-ordinated mini playlets. We make it up as we go along. A sort of fairytale. We play the main protagonists. Beauty and the beast.
Entry onto Campingplatz Hameln an der Weser, surprises. Its gateway an extravaganza of put together nick-knacks. Tied, screwed, nailed and glued. Are we entering the OK Coral? No. We’re in Hameln, better known for its main protagonist. The Pied Piper.
The shower facilities are pukka, if a little on the unusual. The theme is clear. Piped music plays. (Get it?) A looped assortment of George Michael, The Gypsy Kings, Joe Cocker and the best of the rest.
We’re well accustomed to these half-timbered house scenes, but even so, the variety of visual props employed delights. Heads turn from left to right, as if trying to keep track of the ball on Centre Court.
More by luck than judgement we’re in town on a Wednesday. A free outdoor performance scheduled for 4.30pm. This end of town is packed. All bench seats taken. Standing room only. It’s warm, but not hot. The sun is shining. Perfect.
Forty minutes of fun is a mix of opera, traditional and even a bit of rat rap . . .
Here’s a taste of the sunny atmosphere . . .