Spies Like Them
A group of gray-haired representatives from across Europe gather in a central London gentlemen's club to discuss the United States' aggressive spying techniques.
A group of gray-haired representatives from across Europe gather in a central London gentlemen's club to discuss the United States' aggressive spying techniques.
After six months in Leipzig, a German reporter asks the novelist what he’ll miss. But it’s back here in the United States where more dangerous questions take shape, none easily answered with good beer.
The line to speak with a consular official is never so long as when you’re studying 19th-century philosophy and everything you desire exists on the other side of an ocean.
On a quest to find the person who speaks the most languages on Earth, our correspondent encountered Emil Krebs, a German diplomat who knew, by some accounts, 65 of them—and happily swore in dozens.
The re-opening of a 1970s murder case this summer shocked Germans of all political stripes.
Nearly 20 years after reunification, a trip into the German countryside finds that the past persists: murder and prostitutes and birthday parties, and plenty of wild boar.
Inspired by the local architecture and the beer-swilling, chain-smoking new parents, our man in Berlin discovers equal parts Chicago and New York in Germany's largest city.
You know Santa: cheeks like a rose, nose like a cherry. Now meet the Krampus, a boozy, goat-horned menace that whips European children during the first days of December.