Last week we had a German teenager staying in our home. Nina from Munster visited a year after my daughter stayed with her family as part of a school exchange.

Arriving only hours after England’s convincing defeat by Germany in the World Cup, I was a bit worried as to the 50-something strong group’s reception in the UK.

But people couldn’t have been more welcoming, and at my daughter’s school they were treated like celebrities, with everyone wanting to speak to them. Within days, Nina seemed to have added half the school to her list of Facebook friends.

To my generation, talk of Germans visiting still provokes the reaction instilled into us by Basil Fawlty. At least a dozen people reminded me in hushed tones: “Don’t mention the war.”

Obviously we weren’t going to, but when Nina first arrived it was difficult to get away from it. Intending to show her a little British TV, both channels I turned to featured Second World War documentaries, one about Polish airmen, the other Nazi-hunters. All I needed to complete the themed evening’s viewing was Colditz and Schindler’s List.

Another parent had to overcome the problem of taking part that day in a wartime event at an air museum, in which she had to dress for the part.

“When I got home I raced upstairs to take it all off quickly,” she told me. “It would have been so difficult explaining.”

It was great having Nina. Noticing how many times I tell my eldest daughter to hurry up while getting ready to go out, she taught me the German way: “Schnell, schnell! which, when uttered in a harsh tone, appeared to have far more impact.

She taught my daughters to sing Bob The Builder in German – Bob der Baumister – and we learned that the Po from Teletubbies translates as Bum in German.

Children from both countries gathered together to watch Germany’s World Cup quarter-final against Argentina. They waved rattles and blew trumpets, albeit with the flag of St George on the side – bought for a snip in the sales after England’s exit.

We painted over our England car flags in black, red and gold and drove around.

We got more than a few black looks and it’s a sad reflection of the world today that I didn’t dare leave them on the car while parked at the supermarket for fear of vandalism.

I have to say, I wasn’t looking forward to having a stranger in the house for a week, but it was wonderful, and such a pleasure to watch the children, German and English, giggling and laughing together.