I hadn’t seen very much of the famous German love for soccer in my six months here as most of the people I work with aren’t anything like devoted fans of the sport, but I had recently had the chance to watch the first part of the oh so crucial world cup qualifying series against the Ukraine. (read story) Now I was traveling to Hamburg for the weekend, to visit Michelle, stop by the famous Fish Market (read story) and then head north to one of the oldest cities in Germany, Rostock. Or at least that’s what our tour guide their said. It became a bit of a joke, everything we saw on our brief city tour was the oldest, or most renowned in all of western Europe. Rostock apparently has one of the oldest universities in western Europe although AIESEC is not all that old there. In fact Michelle and I had been invited to come along to Rostock by a few of the more experience AIESECers from Hamburg who were helping the Local Committee in Rostock to run its meeting for new members. In exchange we got a budget tour of the city and free accommodation. We attended the AIESEC meeting on Saturday evening after driving the three hours north, and then left early on Sunday to get a good look at the city. Saturday night had been fun because we actually got to watch the second part of the Germany vs. Ukraine World Cup qualifying game that I thought I would surely miss. We stopped off at a small bar and watched the Germans defeat their eastern opponents and could go to bed knowing that German soccer would once again make itself known at the World Cup.
Sunday morning found our small group in the city itself, and walking down a pier to see the sea. A fierce breeze was blowing off the choppy, white-topped waves, the kind that cuts right through your jacket and down to the bones. The wide open shoreline looked like it could be really nice in the summer, but on this November day I think we were all glad when we dropped into a restaurant close by to sample some fresh fish and escape the oh so fresh air. Rostock was a pretty town I thought to myself as I enjoyed another mouthful of warm potato. It’s narrow streets were clean and sported colourful old buildings on either side. Close to the coast where we were eating, a large canal brought lines of ships up on one side with storefronts on the other. Kiosks sold fish and crafts to passers-by, even smoked fish. I wish I had a picture of this, many of the little shops and kiosks actually smoke their own fish right there on the street. Each has what looks like a closet made of metal, its sides slightly blackened from smoke sitting out on the sidewalk. On the front a panel about a meter square lies open on its hinges to reveal strung up smoked fish inside. Some are still smoking gently in the sea air. I thought this was just great, talk about fresh. The boat and the smoke house are right there!
