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It’s been an unusually social week for Bill and me.  On Monday, we drove to Schwetzingen to meet Bill’s former co-worker and current friend, Tim, and his wife, Melody, who had come to Germany to celebrate their anniversary.  On Wednesday, we saw the Scottish Music Parade in downtown Wiesbaden.  And last night, we gathered with Bill’s new co-workers in the picturesque city of Hochheim am Main, which is where Bill’s new boss lives.

Bill’s boss’s landlords own a winery, so they had arranged for us to do a wine tasting before dinner at the hotel directly across the street.  We were a little bit late to the wine tasting, since Bill wasn’t able to get home as early as he’d hoped he would.  We also went to the wrong place at first.  Apparently, Hochheim is loaded with wineries and wine stores.  The first place we went, the guy was just closing up for the evening.  But he was so friendly and kind that when we go back to Hochheim, we will definitely stop in and check out his wines.

It was fun to meet some new people, although I have to watch myself in social situations.  Sometimes I get carried away and say more than I should.  Below are a few pictures from the event.

No… Bill wasn’t falling asleep, although this week of activities has worn him out a bit.  We aren’t used to socializing as much as we have this week.

I learned last night that Thomas Jefferson once visited Hochheim.  This wine was named after that event, although we didn’t arrive early enough to hear the history of his visit, which the landlord/winery owner explained.  Later, we were quizzed on this…  Bill and I didn’t fare well.

The wines flowed freely.  This was the price list.  I liked several of them.

 

I was feeling a little envious of where Bill’s boss lives.  It’s the kind of cute town I was hoping to find when we were searching for our current house.  I guess we just weren’t destined to live in a super cute town this time.  I wish it hadn’t been so dark during our visit.  Hochheim looked like a really quaint place.

We had a buffet dinner at Hochheimer Terrasse, a restaurant located directly across the street from Bill’s boss’s house.  There were a few Christmas parties going on last night, and they also had their bar and restaurant open to the public.  Our buffet dinner consisted of pumpkin soup, which was creamy and delicious, goose leg, Rotkohl (red kraut), bread dumplings, and apple strudel for dessert.  We also got all the beer and wine we wanted.

I ended up talking to a few people at the party, and Bill’s boss mentioned my blog, which Bill had told them about.  I think when they had their first meeting back in September, Bill had our visit to the elevator testing tower near Rottweil in mind.  I was explaining that the tower offers Germany’s highest observation deck, as it’s also a place for elevators to be tested.  I’m not sure people quite understood the appeal of visiting an elevator testing facility in southern Germany, but nevertheless, that was how Bill introduced my travel blog to his boss.

As things were winding down, we were visited by this guy…  He recited a poem, tried to get us to sing “O Tannenbaum”, which no one knew in German, and then handed out tangerines and chocolates.  Afterwards, he asked for money.  Bill said the restaurant owner came over and shooed him out of the dining room.  I missed that part, but I will admit that he kind of put an unusual accent on the evening.  In all my years of living in Germany, this was the first time I ever ran into a German Santa.  

 

My German friend says this was the poem he recited…  I think she’s right.

I grabbed a parting shot of the restaurant’s sign as we were leaving.

 

I enjoyed the goose last night, which surprised me, since I had only had goose once before and I hadn’t liked it at all.  It was too gamy.  This time, it reminded me of duck, only with a longer leg.  I know goose is popular in Germany this time of year, but somehow I missed it during previous Christmases here.  I may have to try it again, but not at a buffet.  It turns out several of Bill’s new co-workers also spent time in Stuttgart, although we were told that usually people move from Wiesbaden to Stuttgart, and not the other way around.  For that reason, I won’t be surprised if we move to Stuttgart a third time someday.  But then again, maybe we won’t.

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