Young Tourists in Black Garb appear in Guilford CT

The Guilford Dock and Marina, unlike the many sandy beaches in the area, is not restricted to residents. So from time to time visitors from places far and wide find their way to it's rock strewn waters edge. The view there is bifurcated in that facing south, the expansive waters of Long Island Sound interrupted only by a tiny Island with a lighthouse rises above the blue-green tempestuous surface. Beyond that, Long Island seems low slung and feint near the distant horizon. Looking more easterly is an inlet that makes it's winding way between two shores, a green surfaced marshy area populated by several varieties of constantly moving birds to your left and to the right, a sandy, beach like, finger of land housing a very old and empty, reddish, wooden structure that resembled nothing so much as a weathered, roof covered, four sided porch. 

My wife and I had gone down to the boat launch area and walked out as far as we could go on the string of floating wooden and hinged aluminum docks. The surrounding waters were choppy and rushing in from the Sound with the urgency of measuring up to the expectations of the high tide chart. Our footing was being tested as the chosen path took on some of the characteristics of a breakfast tray perched upon an unruly water bed. A couple of small empty row boats bobbed nearby as every floating solid surface in the vicinity moved independently of every other. The warm breeze off the water was constant, but not unpleasant. 

When I happened to glance back from the dock up to the rocky shoreline where we started, I noticed a young couple, both dressed in black on this mild summery day, sitting on a marble bench, facing out to sea. After a while we headed back, climbed the gradual incline of the launching ramp and onto the path leading behind the marble bench. The voices of the couple sitting there were audible but not decipherable. My curiosity was aroused, so I went around to greet them and inquired as to the language they were speaking. "German, we're from Germany" the young lady responded. Her dark hair was almost as close cropped as her male companions blond crew cut. "Germany," I said, "What part?". "Stuttgart, it's located in southern Germany" she responded with a big smile on her face and proceeded, almost gleefully to share her story. Whereas they lived in Stuttgart the sixth largest German City they worked in one of the several surrounding villages and had a 45 minute commute. They were in the US for a three week vacation. The first week had been spent in NYC staying with some friends in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. She paused, looking for a response of recognition, she laughed as if we shared her recently acquired impressions. She considered it to be a notably unusual place. Being former New Yorkers we suspected she was referring to the fact that Williamsburg has a population mix of Italians, Germans, Hasidic Jews , established immigrant groups, young people who can't afford Manhattan and artists.

She and her friend were now embarked on a motor trip through New England. After leaving Guilford they were headed to Mystic CT and their furthest stop would be in Cape Cod Mass. Then they were planning to return to NY on a route a little further west that would include the two casino's.

She began telling us about the kind of work she did back home and I misheard her pronunciation. For five minutes or so I was thinking and talking as if they were employed in "Traffic Design" and amazingly our conversation seemed to be going swimmingly. My wife soon caught me up and corrected my error. All that time they had been trying to describe not "Traffic Design" but "Graphic Design". Oops! We all got a kick out of that. 

She works in the graphic design of Fashions while her less garrulous companion who was less facile with english, worked in technical computer programming within the same industry. She continued with a sparkle in her eyes about how New York is considered the "Worlds Capitol" in her field and I could tell she would have loved to relocate. When asked about that possibility, her exuberance became subdued and she pointed out how competitive the field was and how she didn't think much of her chances. She needed some encouragement. "You won't know unless you try", I said. She smiled. We soon wished our new, not really rebellious friends from the other side of the pond, a fond farewell on their journey and luck with their promising careers.

We were delighted to have been able to learn a bit about them.

Later I looked into the matter of casual black clothing in Germany. I thought I remembered hearing about it being popular. It is a fairly wide spread stylish fad among young people, imitating what is called the "autonomen movement". In the 1980s there were protest movements in Germany in which black was worn to hide one's identity and for protesting groups to appear united as one.