Tracing my steps, Hof.

Today, the town of Hof in Upper Franconia, close to the former East German border.
A few hours to kill and suddenly I find myself drawn back towards the site of the most significant historical event I have witnessed in the course of my life - the reunification of Germany.

I take the bus to the train station where the first trains containing refugees from East Germany arrived in November, 1989. This street, located immediately outside the railway station, (a huge, imposing and beautifully-spacious building,) was the scene of unbridled jubilation in those heady days. Thousands of East Germans arrived here to eat fresh oranges, stare at fabulous motorbikes and relish the experience of freedom and a blossoming future.
They queued up here to get the Begrüßungsgeld they were entitled to. This was money to welcome them to the West and tide them over until they got work. I have photos of long lines of people outside Aldi supermarkets as well as in the Altstadt though I didn't take half enough shots at the time.

For a while here life was difficult for the locals in Hof and there was quite a bit of resentment towards the new neighbours.

I am fascinated by the idea of a street, a square, any simple place, suddenly becoming the most important place in the world. Today, all that seems so long ago. As you can see the street this afternoon is almost deserted. Hof is a town with a history of textiles but the industry has fallen on hard times and the town is struggling to keep its workers employed. Compared to other cities here such as Bamberg, Coburg and Bayreuth, there is a considerable amount of Turkish to be heard on the streets, a fact that is explained by the many once thriving factories.