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Wetzlar is a city on the river Lahn. There's a neat old bridge that separates the old town from the newer part of the city. A channel is cut alongside the Lahn that diverts some of the water to a row of industrial buildings. I assume that the buildings once held water-powered mills and other equipment, but now they hold shops and resturants.
I collect cameras, so a stop into Lars Netopil's camera shop was interesting. He trades in Leica equipment, which is expensive beyond my means, so just seeing the Leica cameras, microscopes and enlargers was a real treat. His shop is right behind the catherdal.
Typical street scene in Wetzlar.
Wetzlar was once a trade center for iron products. There's a museum dedicated to ironwork in town, and the local mine was in operation until a few years ago. A large square near the cathedral is called the eisnmarkt, or "iron market", and this pretty building stands at the foot of the square.
The second floor of this building is interesting. Notice the ornately carved timbers on each side of the bay windows and the guild seals under the windows.
One night I was out in a local pub. The last time I was in Wetzlar, I had stopped into this pub and so I knew the place, more or less. The bartender had been a surly punk-rocker who has been replaced by a friendly blues fanatic from Austria. He was a native of Thal, Austria, and spoke with pride of his home town's native son, Arnold Swarzenegger while playing B.B. King on the stereo. After a while, a fellow came in who introduced himself as Roger and we started talking. Roger, it seems, is an underemployed fellow who spoke fair english. He agreed to be my guide for a tour of Wetzlar's pubs and off we went into the night.
One of many good bars in Wetzlar
We stopped into a few places and met the locals. We tipped a few beers. Germans have an pecular habit of mixing their own "light" beer by adding 7-Up to a glass of beer. Roger told me that he gets less of a buzz going when he dilutes his beer like this. Anyway, we eventually stopped into a nightspot where Roger was recognized by a good-looking girl who came up and gave him a big hug. I minded my own business for a while and the girl went back to her table. Roger said "that's my first wife", to which I replied "she seems to be happy to see you, Roger". Then he tells me that she's a little embarrassed because the guy she's out with is not her current spouse. Ah, melodrama in Wetzlar!
The next day I was out early shooting some photographs. It was a nice, early fall day and when I got tired of tramping up and down the hills of Wetzlar I kicked back on a park bench and watched the world go by. After a while I decided to go back to the hotel and make ready to travel down to Stuttgart, via Gießen. As I was ambling along, who should I find coming up the hill? My drinking buddy Roger. I think that he was on his way to court or something like that. I walked with him until he got to his destination and said goodby.
After that, I packed up and walked down to the train station. Wetzlar is a nice town. I hope to return someday.
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