About 20 years ago, I was studying at the University of Konstanz in West Germany. Konstanz is a peninsula on, you guessed it, Lake Constance. On the "lower sea" is the Insel Reichenau, renowned for its delicious, and highly toxic, produce. At the university I met a student, Peter. Peter had grown up on his fathers small farm on Reichenau, and was so naive, you'd have thought he'd never left there. Because of that, I named him Inselpeter (inzel payter). I never called him that and only one other person even knew about it. I still have dreams that I am back in Konstanz after a long time away. The name is a kind of souvenir.