It was only a matter of time before I saw one of these beer- fuelled contraptions being loudly pedaled back from a visit to the street of live sex shows. I walked a little of the Reeperbahn looking for the street sculpture honouring the Fab Four, but a small installation of lifesized cookie cutters holding guitars snd embedded in a scruffy square paved with tiles to suggest an LP was really a let down. Then, while walking up Grosse Freiheit, which was another sleazy side street smelling of stale beer and vomit, I happened upon the Baroque church of St Joseph's, where I sat in the splendid painted interior watching a nun set up the altar for a wedding. When the bride and entourage appeared, I quietly took my leave. I thought it an odd place for a wedding, one street over from the red light district. But St Joseph's was here first, built 1660 when this part of town was in Denmark and Catholics could sneak across the border to attend mass.
She was a pretty Russian speaking bride, wearing an ankle length satin gown. As beautiful in her own way as the bride at the family wedding I attended 3 weeks ago, in Baden Wurtenburg, and the reason for this trip to Germany.
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