1. Germans don’t speak perfect schoolbook English. They have far better English than the Italians, who usually can’t speak or understand anything even after 6 years of classes at school; but the Bosche speak their own special barbaric English and so i get paid to beat them.

2. Every working day i get to the s-bahn (short-distance train) about 3 minutes before it leaves. The trains are sometimes a few minutes late but never leave early. Nonetheless, when the train comes early all the Germans walking to the station will as one break into a frenzied run, trying to look dignified and miserable but instead looking bizarre and miserable. For my first few weeks in Munich i used to half-run because i felt there must be a good reason for all this Hunnish hullabaloo, but after a couple of months i felt it was distasteful and unbecoming an English colonial gentleman. i now saunter, deliberately, ostentatiously slowly, langourously even, casting a disdainful eye upon all these frightful running natives.

3. This is the closest thing i’ve seen to my life in Germany:

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