Filed under: Germany
On June 23, 1984, there must have been an Unlucky Traveler Star blinking wearily over Barge Hospital. In other words, don’t travel with me unless you hope to miss your flight; be delayed; not get your baggage; get your baggage broken; have your in-flight entertainment screen broken; your reading light stuck “on”; get missed in the passing out of a breakfast-like substance; sit next to a smelly passenger; or have a gate attendant sitting on his fat rear, with no one else in line, anger you to tears by his rudeness. And my travel history is fairly short, at this point.
Our initial flight out of GSP got delayed, we missed our direct flight into Stuttgart, and had to be re-routed to London-Heathrow, AKA The-Dungeon-Complete-with-a-Bus-System. Our 5 hour or so layover there went by more quickly than expected due to Delta and British Air not sharing the same ticketing system. Once that got ironed out, we could relax and wait for our gate to be announced, which the airport likes to keep as a last minute surprise. They’re cool like that.
But, arrive we did. A great time of year for South Carolinians to escape the suffocating humidity and be instantly transported to fresh, fall weather. Everything is very green, corn still growing, window baskets full of flowers. The coffee is smooth, the bread is hearty and there was a brick of Brie on the table this morning. Be still, my American heart.
The house is nestled in a village–oh yes, they still call them villages. And next to it are rolling orchards, and clusters of black-faced sheep. There’s a paved walking trail, with Germans bicycling by, ringing their tidy little bells.
Yesterday, we went to a public pool, which everyone should do when they visit Europe. You get an up-front experience of the European’s relationship with nudity. For instance, there might come along a gentleman in a speedo and sit quite near you in the kiddie pool. Or, in the locker room (with plenty of private booths) there might be a woman a few feet from your husband, strip naked at the waist and towel off her unmentionables.
These days have been socially busy ones, as Sawaya’s brother, wife and 2 kids are visiting. Kingston gets to play with cousins that may not understand his language (but then, it’s not like he is fluent in English) but do share the same love of cars and balls. Boys are simple like that.
For now, here’s another picture of the breakfast table. In the spirit of the Pretend-Austrian Julie Andrews: One of my favorite things.
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