Now I got to indulge in one of my favorite games: guess what country the tourists are from, based on their appearance alone. Living in a UNESCO World Heritage site gives me plenty of opportunity to indulge, and I've become a bit of a tourist-connaisseur. But this group was challenging: their walk and dress was too square to be Israeli or Russian. They were too tall and fit to be Italians. Too quiet to be Americans, and besides, American women wear sunhats and and American men wear baseball caps. in this group, only the men were wearing hats, no baseball caps. French? Not stylish enough. Scandinavians? They were wearing mostly solid colors, and I had a feeling, possibly because of Marimekko memories, that the Scandinavian women would sport tops with a bit more color.
Shuki and I managed to approach the group slowly and look nonchalant while I listened to their language: German. Their leader did not use a megaphone or a microphone, so they had to stand close to him to listen to his spiel. I know enough German to know it when I hear it, but not enough to understand what he was saying. I've encountered German skin-patient tourists in Israel before, in planeloads at the Dead Sea for (their) government-sponsored psoriasis cures; I've encountered German Christian tourists in groups at the various plentiful Christian holy places like Jerusalem and Tiberias. I've encountered individual German tourists in Tel Aviv, but never before an organized group of well-heeled retirees.
Once again I get to think how the world has changed during my lifetime.