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@Max: cars are an important point, neighbours are talking about.
Two weeks ago, we had a neighbourhood-party, just for the 8, 9 houses around. My wife and me were newbies, we're just living here since March.
No kidding, four neighbours have asked me, if I am a Bundeswehr-officer. They told me, that they had discussed it before, because of my olive-green, former army-Opel Omega. The civil license-plate, the "Scotland"-sticker in the back window and the cloth-turtle on the dashboard they haven't realized.
One lady even had said, that the was grumbling, where the extra apartment of the general's driver would be, when the general is living here.
If you drive any car, which is not "decent mainstream", surely the neighbours will gossip about the car an the owner, everywhere on the world.
It makes fun, if you irritate them really. In 1994 I lived for a few months at my grandmother, in a real noble and high-priced area of the town of Essen. My grandmother was a well known, respected resident over there, she lived in one of the bigger houses.
The neighbour's gossip must be extreme, when they saw the car, I had in that months: a K 70 in self-made "Blues Brothers"-outfit, really nasty made with tar and white wall-paint.
And imagine their faces, when they saw my grandmother getting out of that freak-car at the local supermarket.
It was an unbelievable fun
Two weeks ago, we had a neighbourhood-party, just for the 8, 9 houses around. My wife and me were newbies, we're just living here since March.
No kidding, four neighbours have asked me, if I am a Bundeswehr-officer. They told me, that they had discussed it before, because of my olive-green, former army-Opel Omega. The civil license-plate, the "Scotland"-sticker in the back window and the cloth-turtle on the dashboard they haven't realized.
One lady even had said, that the was grumbling, where the extra apartment of the general's driver would be, when the general is living here.
If you drive any car, which is not "decent mainstream", surely the neighbours will gossip about the car an the owner, everywhere on the world.
It makes fun, if you irritate them really. In 1994 I lived for a few months at my grandmother, in a real noble and high-priced area of the town of Essen. My grandmother was a well known, respected resident over there, she lived in one of the bigger houses.
The neighbour's gossip must be extreme, when they saw the car, I had in that months: a K 70 in self-made "Blues Brothers"-outfit, really nasty made with tar and white wall-paint.
And imagine their faces, when they saw my grandmother getting out of that freak-car at the local supermarket.
It was an unbelievable fun