On a Saturday afternoon, Frank Schlichting (56) is knee-deep in the Alster. We’re not talking about the dammed pond in the heart of the city, the angler lets his glittering fishing lure fly upstream on the river of the same name further north: “You could stand in the turning current!” “They” are the perch, anglers say “stand” when they mean “swim”. For the man in full fishing gear – from waistcoat to waders – a perch fillet fried crispy in butter “can’t be weighed in gold”.
Access to all STERN PLUS content and articles from the print magazine
ad-free
Already registered?
