Like Karl Heinz, he showed no interest in business. He was called Willy. Willy sat on the ground with us and asked, in German, where we came from, where all we had gone, what we did, how we managed to pay, and he studied our maps with us. He treated us like his guests. Finally we got him around to checking us in - paying, getting a bathroom key and tokens for the showers and a place for the tent.
Most campgrounds ask for a passport so they can fill out the forms.
When I asked Willy if he needed a passport he laughed as if this was ridiculous. The reception building was gutted. Tools, lumber, and paint cans were laying around. Willy tried to tell us the place was being renovated. Willy had us put the tent directly in front of his camper.