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This post is about a 16km walk from Nierstein to Mainz. We get drunk with Argentinians and have difficulties getting into Mainz.

Did you hear that? I asked the weirdo. When we looked outside, we saw a green, train-like vehicle moving through the vineyards. A bunch of people were sitting in it, and they were drinking and playing music. They seemed very happy.


A few minutes later they were all around us, and they turned out to be happy Argentinians. I told them that I remembered a word that a man from Argentina had once taught me to say: culiado. This made them even more happy, especially a lady who said she was from the region where the word culiado was from.

Culiado, I said. Culiaaaado! she replied.

I still had no idea what it meant.


The weirdo and I decided that it was time to drink, and so we finished the flask and then went through a bottle of the Austrian spritz we had bought a few days earlier. It seemed like a reasonable thing to do: to get drunk between vineyards, with Argentinians.


It didn’t make walking any easier, but it did make it more fun.


A few hours later we were sober again, the sidewalk had disappeared, and we were trying to enter the city of Mainz.

WTF, I said to the weirdo. “Yeah, WTF?” the weirdo replied.

It turned out that we had to navigate a complex network of ramps that led us over a bridge next to the highway, our German national fetish we like to call the Autobahn. Cars and trucks were roaring past on three lanes, divided from us by a safety lane and a guardrail. It was very loud, and a cold wind blew in our faces.

Did cyclists from Mainz really have to take this way if they wanted to get to the other side of town?


the walk from Nierstein to Mainz:

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