I may have found an even worse place than Leverkusen. Worse than Leverkusen. I’m in Minden, Westfalen, where I’ve to wait more than half an hour for a connecting train to Bielefeld. Jesus, the dullness.
You might say half an hour isn’t long enough to get to know a place. Well, you’re wrong. It isn’t even up yet and already I’ve seen too much. Half an hour with a bag over my head would be time better spent.
I couldn’t tell you where Minden is. Not sure it’s on any map.
But I like to explore my surroundings once I find myself surrounded by them so I left the Bahnhof and took a stroll towards the signposted centre. I found myself in a dark tunnel with a forlorn hotel on the other side – the shite at the end of the tunnel – and walked beyond it, curiosity burning for this alleged centre. Not a sinner nor a stray rat, no Mindeners at all to be seen anywhere, but roads, roads and more roads, empty of their beloved cars.
I kept walking towards this elusive centre until I came to a crossroads with a million traffic lights. All red. I wasn’t even remotely tempted to break any of them. I turned back. I’d seen enough of Minden.