Last night, we began with a local beer at one of the restaurants (Cafe Perkeo) along Haupstrasse, the main artery of the Altstadt, a brick-laden pedestrian walkway with eateries, pubs, a church or two, boutique hotels and shops of all kinds on both sides. Sitting alfresco with the cool spring breeze teasing our hair and tickling our faces, it was a welcome breather after a week of cramming details from a product training course in Wiesbaden.
The Altstadt was teeming with folks enjoying the start of a weekend: Kids in herds enrouting to their favourite hangout, mothers with their young in tow eyeing retail displays, couples engaging in public intimacy…And Renato and me people-gazing. Me while nursing the delish beer, he while more than sipping his, at the rate only slightly slower than a champion of a beer-chugging contest. Renato was a lot of fun though (even before the beer). We continued with dinner inside the restaurant as the weather had cooled to the point where, coming from a tropical climate and even in May, we couldn’t quite appreciate. He shared stories about work, family and life in general as a carioca.
It was past 10PM when we went for a walk. Had I been by myself, I would have retired by nightfall like a vampire. But with Renato around, well, nocturnal creatures we became. We traversed the city’s nooks and crevices, coming across crowds that spilled out of pulsating pubs, obstructing the whole street. Renato managed to grab a beer bottle to go at one of the joints. We then literally held our breaths to squeeze through scores of tankard-grasping jolly makers before reaching safety.
Safety was made up of quieter streets where we did window shopping, stopping at displays of cuckoo clocks, wind chimes, household items and semi-summer apparel. It was even more peaceful when we reached the Heiliggeistkirche at the marktplatz and stepped onto the Karl-Theodor-Brücke. The beautifully lit ruins of Schloss Heidelberg on a nearby hill could be clearly viewed from the bridge. As I took a few shots with my phone cam, the tower clock from a distance struck twelve, and all castle lights duly turned off.
It was time for (Renato to have) a nightcap. We went into a pub with its own brewery (Vetter Brauhaus). This place emanated with sophisticated energy. It felt like a hub where PhD candidates and professors discuss politics, molecular biology and ancient philosophy during off-hours (of course, the Universität Heidelberg is just a stone’s throw away). Aah, my kinda place. The customers were cosily seated on benches around wood tables, discoursing away.
Renato helped himself to two and a half pints (I managed the remaining half). I was amazed he had not toppled over in alcohol excess. In fact, he was holding quite the intelligent conversation about beer-producing friars and hop variety (in between toilet breaks), albeit with a slight slur in speech.Two AM was upon us, so we brisk-walked along the Haupstrasse to our respective hotels. We were by then quite alone except for the occasional laughter and hollering from night owls beyond the street. The temperature had dipped some more and the ground was strewn with paper and can litter. A group of youngsters ran past, teasing and nudging each other along the way.
At the entrance of Denner Hotel where Renato left me, we bade each other an early guten morgen. Till 10AM, we both arranged.
