Postcard from Cologne

Cologne, Germany – When one thinks of Cologne, one pictures the cathedral that greets travellers at the doorstep of the Bahn.

This mother of all cathedrals, wherein, towering over the tourists who stand out front, gawking at its sheer grandeur. That it was constructed by a human is almost unimaginable. Its range is as tall as a mountain’s.

In its shadows, there are many side alley ways, cobbled and diminished by years of wear. In one of these side alley ways, the Ludwig Museum rests. Its stoney setting establishes its existence. Inside, modern exhibits — subvert Warhol! Picasso in blue — sit in airy openings of brick and concrete.

Further along, one can be led to the Perfume Museum. There, “cologne” can be located, birthed from Italy and repackaged in this city. The tour guide states that the olden days consisted of people reeking in stink, never showering, only dousing themselves with this fabulous “cologne,” an early symbol of status.

Stroll through Heumarkt, where the youth are chowing down on currywurst and fries. There, jokes abound, in German of course. Laughs are free for all to listen. It is surreal to hear sounds of youth when surrounded by all these statues of old.