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Why was I playing a bit of Beethoven on a piano in West Berlin? This is perhaps due to the strangeness of life. Some ancestor had assisted with the Berlin blockade, and decades later there remained a link to one in West Berlin who had a baby grand. The usual piano in Pakistan did not keep itself much in tune. At least it had all the keys, which is not always the case.
Certain commentators, phloggersgarage, expressed surprise that there had been a road trip through East Germany. Sunny, dry, and staring from the natives at a rest stop. Shabby? Many places are. The border checkpoints took a while. But I was not very old at the time.
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