We were near the pyramid when my oldest niece said to me: “Do you know what ruhe means? Peace. It means peace.” I am sure that Karl didn’t imagine, around XVIII century, that his peace town would be what it is today: crowded, full of immigrants and with almost each street in repair for the future underground tram. There was no trip with the tram in those 4 days without hearing Romanian around us; even at a fast food corner we were sitting next to a Romanian family and all of us were eating a doner with only 2.5e. A town full of strangers, but without letting you know: if in Netherlands it is clear that I am a immigrant, in Germany would be hard to notice, especially if I would speak German.

Opposite to Karl’s pyramid is the palace, laying with a enormous garden behind. The tower is easy to climb (and cheap) and the views are capturing the town’s spirit: each road with cars and people walking by, people giving food to the ducks or simply enjoying a windy day. Since it was raining we went to a bar (where you can smoke inside) and taste local beer.

 

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