This morning I took my mother to the closest of the two corner pharmacies to help her buy a new bottle of potassium supplements, a prescription drug in the U.S., over-the-counter in Germany. The straight-laced, soft-spoken pharmacist smiled faintly, apologized that they didn't manufacture such small doses in Germany, and politely suggested my mother try a glass of apple juice instead. When we returned five minutes later with the right dosage information, the pharmacist pleasantly sold us the box of previously-offered tablets and, because this is the way of things in Baden, tossed in a complimentary packet of tissues. The most unusual thing about the experience was that the pharmacist was not a female wearing a white lab coat, like the vast majority of German Apotheker(innen), but a man wearing a fuzzy light brown suit.
I dropped my parents off at the bus station for the next step of their Grosse Reise (Grand Tour). Getting to the station is straightforward, but getting home is complicated by one-way streets and downtown pedestrian zones. I cleverly gave the Altstadt wide berth--so wide, in fact, that I got to see part of the highway to Offenburg, most of the University clinics on the outskirts of town, and a mysterious foggy suburb I'll never be able to find again.
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