Today I’m in the panelled, main saloon, sitting at one of the many scrubbed white, wooden tables, with my back to the massive brown ceramic tiled Dutch oven, and opposite from what must have been the original cash desk. On the walls, along with other interesting bric-a-brac, hang several oil paintings, darkened by years of smoke.

It’s now a no-smoking enterprise, but it certainly doesn’t appear to have affected business.

Here I find the atmosphere is always warm and friendly, made more so by the somewhat cheeky waiters in their long blue aprons held in place by a thick leather belt and pouch. A fresh glass of Koelsh is slapped down in front of me, just as I’m draining the last one.

The wall clock has just chimed mid day and the place is has filled up. People are sharing tables with strangers, which seems to be the tradition in many of the pubs in Cologne.

Their autumn menu offers venison, roast breast of goose with red cabbage and pureed potatoes, goulash or seared goose liver and a fitting dessert of Apfelstrudel. It takes a real man to tackle a thumping big plate of the house Schweinehaxe and on the neighbouring table, three red faced, rotund gentlemen are attempting to do just that.

Being from the north of England I can wax lyrical on the subject of black puddings, so naturally I choose the local dish by the alluring name of, Himmel & Aed. (Heaven & earth). This a plate, well stacked with black pudding, mashed potatoes, apple sauce and roasted onions. Mmm. Bah gum, this is good, and at a mere nine Euros it’s a bargain.

I shan’t divulge what the present time is but it’s certainly about time to head for my train. I place my beer mat on top of my glass, manifesting to the waiter that I shan’t be drinking more today, I recognise how much shoe leather he has worn out to-ing and fro-ing from the bar to my table by tipping generously. The helpfull feature of a train timetable, pinned up by the downstairs toilets tells me that I have just ten minutes to catch my train...

Ginger72