Just flown into Newcastle. KLM managed to park us for seven hours in Schipol on the way out. The turnaround was tight, the check-in queue long, and TLMH aroused the suspicion (or something) of a lesbian security officer, who decided a thorough frisking was in order.

Later on I saw a couple of Dutch coppers giving a hard time to some orthodox Jewish bloke. To be fair, the Jewish bloke had been arguing with one of the check-in staff, and the two heavies were quite polite and restrained. But they loomed more than somewhat, and Jewish guy seemed intimidated. Clearly Holland (national motto: "In The SS? Us? No, You Must Be Thinking Of Denmark") doesn't take the trouble to remind its flatfoots that some of their countrymen were less than impeccably behaved during the war.

Anyway, this post is about Germany - so the war must not be mentioned.

Cologne was a treat. The Christmas markets were the exact opposite of anything you'd find in the UK: fun, not consumerist; tasteful, not tacky; neat, tidy and friendly. There were no teenagers in trackie bottoms lounging around, swearing and barging into people. There were no bootleg DVDs, imitation footie strips or piles of tatty Mills and Boons. The stuff that was on sale - art, sculpture, glassware, textiles, models, garden things, handmade clothes - was worth buying. The food stalls ranged from your traditional German bratwurst-inna-bun to west African stews to deep fried stuffed Peruvian potatoes.

Stalls that wanted to sell alcohol sold alcohol, most often in the form of mulled wine fortified with Amaretto or brandy. Can you imagine that being allowed in the UK? Germany isn't that dissimilar to us in terms of alcohol culture. It's certainly no lame, boring 'café society' of the sort that TB and his Islington mates are trying to promote over here, in which all drinkers will forswear Stella and Smirnoff Ice in exchange for a nicely chilled Chenin Blanc sipped al fresco at a roadside table. Nope, the Hun likes to get pissed, and good luck to him. Selling booze from market stalls doesn't cause rioting in German streets and neither would it in British ones. But our bloody Establishment can't shake off its fear of the mob.

Talking of beer - and there are few things I like talking about more - there is some great stuff to be drunk in the Braureries of Cologne. The local stuff, Kölsch, is about as smooth a lager as you'll ever taste. The only downside is that it's traditionally drunk in 300ml glasses. What's the point of that, then? There was even an Italian moment in one restaurant where the Herr Ober didn't (apparently) understand me when I asked for a 'grosse Kölsch' rather than a 'grosses Kölsch'. Mind you, Great Uncle Jimmy did bomb the shit out of his home town, so you can understand a bit of wilful misunderstanding of beer orders.