Aaaand the answer is...

Goslar! The city (if it is even big enough to be called one) has an amazingly rich history and remarkably beautiful houses. It was a mine for over a thousand years, and now it's just a pretty little town with an uncanny number of adorable old couples holding hands as they teeter across the cobblestone* and UNESCO World Heritage Sites at every turn. I also got a very cosy pair of hand-knit wool Omasocken ("grandma-socks") from Friend's grandmother, which both I and my toes are very pleased about.

In other news, the Ritter Sport was on sale the other day for only €0,59 so there's a stack of 'em in every color about the height of a Pomeranian on our new kitchen countertop. As it turns out, Germany is not the place to try to play down a chocolate addiction.

*das Kopfsteinpflaster ("cobblestone" or, more literally, "head-stone-paving")is my big new vocabulary word of the week. Not to be confused with Steinkopfpflaster ("stone-head-paving", anyone?), which doesn't actually exist but finds its way out of my mouth about 50% of the time anyways.

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