The Vortex of Wurst - is there no escape?

Countries are stereotyped by their love of a food. The US have the burger, the British, fish and chips, the French, frog's legs, the Italians, pasta, the Spanish, paella. But they're often just that. A stereotype. The German's love of a sausage, or wurst, isn't. Love is an understatement. Obsession is closer to the mark. In Berlin for the elections, I thought I'd be gripped by Angela Merkel's swashbuckling electioneering, the cut and thrust of democracy in the heart of the EU. How could I be so wrong? Stuff the CDU, sod the SPD, bin the Bundestag, and chuck the coalition talks.
I thought I'd be indifferent to the charms of the German sausage. A mere sideline. But it has an insidious, creeping tendency to addiction. Comforting, tasty, affordable, and democratic. Germany has 1500 varieties, and I'm only on my fifth, the Nurnberger Rostbratwurst flavored with marjoram and a source of great regional regional pride from the state of Franconia. Before that, the mighty Thuringer Rostbratwurst, spices are marjoram, caraway, sometimes garlic and the sausage is formed using casings from pig intestines. And then the world renowned Frankfurter Bockwurst from the city itself,  is made from veal with some pork or other meats that I don't dare think or care about and flavoured with salt, pepper and paprika. It's boiled and eaten with Bock beer and mustard. It looks like a curved hot dog, only better, so much better. And I just don't give a shit anymore........
For God's sake! Someone get me home. I've been sucked into the Vortex of Wurst.