In the middle of the … Jochberg
Illustration: Marc Herold
A friend from Denmark is visiting. Because his homeland is as flat as the bottom of a frozen pizza, he wants to see the Alps. We agree on the Jochberg, which promises a spectacular view of the snow-covered foothills of the Alps between the Kochelsee and Walchensee and does not put too much strain on the climber who is new to the Alps. The mountain is overrun with tourists on summer weekends, but in January it’s mostly locals who trudge along the trail. Almost everyone greets them with a “Servus”, which initially irritates the Danish guest. When he learns that it is a typical local greeting, a piece of Bavarian identity, he diligently greets everyone. It is hardly noticeable that his “Servus” sounds more like “Service”. On the descent, after more than a dozen greetings, he finally has an idea: “You should call it the ‘Servus Mountain’https://www.sueddeutsche.de/panorama/.” Thomas Balbier
In the middle of…Madrid
Illustration: Marc Herold
The girls wore red tights and a striped dress, the boys wore navy blue trousers and a shirt. Madrid’s children storm the playgrounds in the afternoon. Even in kindergarten, everyone wears a uniform here. This is generally regarded as a great equalizer, as it conceals social differences. But Madrid’s children also know the Sunday uniform: when siblings dressed in the same clothes populate the playgrounds at the weekend, their outfits have the opposite effect. The two-year-old, the four-year-old and the eight-year-old in brown canvas shoes, beige chinos and green quilted jackets could be stuffed together like Matryoshka dolls. They belong to a father, dressed in the same color scheme, who sits calmly on a bench while the Filipino nanny chases the look-alikes through the sandbox. Karin Janker
In the middle of… Berlin
Illustration: Marc Herold
At night at the subway station Warschauer Strasse in Berlin. Because you are waiting for friends, you have taken a beer with you and, to pass the time, you write life stories to passers-by. What would go well with this young woman who has just arrived by bike? Even before one can think further about a possible biography, a tow truck roars up, with a sports car on the back and a license plate number whose sequence of letters is quite vulgar. The two men in the driver’s cab fit the cyclist, roll down the window and stick out a shapeless something. The woman looks puzzled until she realizes it’s her backpack dangling from the passenger’s arm. “You dropped it,” comes the voice from the driver’s cab. She thanks you profusely, everyone rushes away. Then a sip of Wegbier. Max Fluder