fillingthegaps

the locals say ‘-good job you are  not touring in the holiday season – you just can’t move down there at that time’: talking about Devon and Cornwall. And I am sure they are right. Even now, all the places we visit have a good supply of tourists. Fairly crowded by NZ standards but very comfortable by UK ones. And you can understand why. I am obviously not the only one to be fascinated by this ancient part of England – the over-powering sense of history and the sheer charm of the small villages, country lanes and green and golden fields. It really is lovely. But navigating these cumbersome camper-vans down narrow country roads is no joke – and the thought of doing it at a time when the lanes are chock-full of touring cars is pure nightmare.

These thoughts occurred as we were driving down narrow lanes to visit the legendary Tintagel castle. The home of King Arthur and his knights of the Round Table.

We were quickly educated by an introductory film, that Arthur was most likely npure legend. But it makes for a great story, and the castle itself is most certainly no figment of the imagination.

The setting is magnificent. Awe-inspiring on this calm blue day, but it would look even more magnificent if  the Atlantic were venting its fury against the rocky shores far below.

It was a good work-out too. Climbing many uneven rocky steps and hiking across the heath at the top, not to mention the long upward climb back to the village. But it was well worth the effort.

Then back in the village we saw the making of  the local delicacy – Cornish Pasties and decided to indulge once more!

Fortunately we discovered that we were allowed to park overnight in the village car-park and so we had no more driving to do that day.

The next day we had three objectives: to cover a fair distance to get to Weston-Super-Mare; visit the old fishing village of Clovelly  and to find a Caravan dealer to purchase some needed spares for the vans.

We achieved all three objectives.I thought that the visit to Clovelly might just be for a quick look of passing interest, but I was wrong! Of course the approach to the village is now a commercial enterprise, geared to handle coach-loads of visitors, but the village itself, which tumbles down a steep cobble-stoned drive (too narrow and steep to call a road) remains much as I remember it from 60 years ago. In fact I found it more fascinating now, than I did in those days of yore.

And this is where Christine comes into the story. It seems that Clovelly has been in the hands of just two families for the past 3-400 hundreds  years. Christine Hamlyn, who inherited the village back in the late 1800’s, decided to smarten the place up and invested a heap of time and money in bringing the village back up to scratch again. She did a good job, and today there is obviously a lot of time and effort put into maintaining the village in pristine condition.

 Not that it is a dead display village – it is very much a lived-in and operating fishing village.

The massive quay was built in the 15th century and makes for a tranquil haven on a forbidding coastline.

We spent a long time discovering every nook and cranny

and everyone really enjoyed it!

Well, a lot has been happening since my last post – and as is always the case, if you do not stick to a routine, before you know it you are in a shambles. And that is pretty much the way it is at the moment, Since the last post in Holland we have moved down through Belgium, got stuck in the mother of all traffic jams in Antwerp, caught the ferry from Ostend to Ramsgate, picked up Linda from Heath Row, over-nighted in Brighton and have then scurried Westward, spending some delightful time with long-lost ‘rellies’ and then Westward again. We are now in Cornwall and tomorrow head off to the Eden project and then on to Land’s end.

Somehow spare time to sit down and put finger to keys has been in short supply and time has just flown by. Many a picture has been taken en route, so maybe a few highlights will serve to give you some idea of what has been going on.

The traffic jam outside Antwerp was a sorry example of poor planning/communications. We drove up to the back of stationary cars, wondering why the hold-up. There was no apparent diversion in place: we were surrounded by truckies and if anyone would know what was going on, it would be them.  But there we were, stuck in bewildered stagnation – for seven hours!

And when we did finally drive through the cause of all the problems – a 4-lane tunnel shut down to a single lane, with a 4-lane and then 2-lane highway converging on it – there was not a sign of any work being done, Just cones closing off 3 lanes. We  were not too amused – nor were the 8 kids who had to endure stoically.

The trip across the Channel was very pleasant with a calm sea under a warm and sunny sky.

Nipping out of Ramsgate we shot through to Canterbury with Rach at the wheel, re-programming her brain to LH driving but now  sitting in the ‘wrong’ side of the Van. Just to test her adaptation progress she almost immediately had to negotiate a very fat camel through the eye of the proverbial needle in Canterbury! The narrow town gate into Canterbury was a real challenge, with just a whisker’s clearance either side of the mirrors.

From Canterbury (not possible  to get a good look at the cathedral due to lack of time and parking spots for the vans) we  headed further west and south. This was the day to pick up Linda from the airport and this involved some very tricky moves. Due to London’s anti-pollution regulations, we were not able to get to Heath Row with our aging vehicles. The answer was for me to be dropped off at Maidstone railway station, take the train to London,

 get a Tube from one London station to another, and then catch the connecting train to Heath Row. After which I would meet up with Linda and catch the Coach down to Brighton! Where the two vans would be waiting for us, having driven on while I did my train thing. Amazingly it all went without a hitch and connections clicked into place most conveniently. A couple of text messages in Brighton and we were all re-united! Amazing. Poor Linda had been travelling for well over 24hours and was decidedly groggy at the end of it all.  We were allowed to park on the Esplanade in Brighton, for Free, so that was most helpful.

The next day we were off again, and went on to visit a cousin of mine.

As it turned out, he had alerted several other cousins and rellies of our coming and so we had a very pleasant re-union.  We had asked them to try and find us somewhere to park the vans over-night, and there had been some encouraging talk of using the field of a friend. As it turned out, one of the rellies happened to be living in part of a Country manor and said there was heaps of room in the grounds for our vans.

What an understatement – and what a magical place that was!

The Manor had been converted internally into about 10 individual homes and our friends had the carriage house and stables –beautifully remodeled on the inside.

We all had the time of our lives there and we were all very sorry to leave.

The next day Cousin took the opportunity to show us around  Winchester Cathedral. Very different from the ornate cathedrals of Europe but a huge and magnificent building none-the-less.

Afterwards we went on, ever-westward and ending up in another cathedral city, Salisbury. It was a long drive, the streets impossibly narrow,

and our planned stop-over failed to materialize, and so we had to cast about for somewhere to park our vans for the night. It sounds quite vagabond-ish but we always park in legal over-night parking spots so it works out ok. Joist sometimes it takes a while to find a spot. Of course we like to stay in a place where there are all the camp facilities but they are not always available where we stop, and besides, some are not good value for money, and we choose to avoid them.

Onwards still from Salisbury via Stonehenge

to a lovely Cornish fishing port, Looe.

I remembered staying in Looe on more than one cycle tour, back in the  days of my youth. Physically the town has changed little in the intervening 60 years or so,

but inevitably, the march of Tourism has stamped its mark on the place, and it has lost some of its old-world charm. It is still a very pretty place, and we got to be the guest of a lady who owns a property high on the hills above Looe. We had a million-dollar view and all the facilities we needed.

The next day we had a long leisurely walk around Looe and had Cornwall’s famous Pasties for lunch. The last time I had a Cornish Pasty was on one of the afore-mentioned bike tours. On that occasion, the contents must have been ‘off; because I remember bringing the lot back up in the middle of the night! I’m pleased to report that trhis time the pasty was delicious – and stayed where it belonged!  After our walk we climbed back in the vans and we continued our westward flight, this time as far as St Austell. Again we found ourselves  in an overnight parking area.

We have galloped through most of the western counties and today we have gone about as fur as we can go – we are at Land’s End. The countryside has been quite beautiful

and the patch-work fields in various shades of green and yellow, divided up by hedge-rows, have a unique charm: so different from the huge paddocks and rolling pasture land of NZ. The only draw-back has been the incredible narrowness of the roads.

 Once off the main highways we found ourselves driving down lanes banked on both sides by truck0high hedges and trees, and with scarcely room for one vehicle. Passing is quite impossible in those cases and we quite often found ourselves at a standstill, wedged into the hedge on the side of the road as a car passed by, or waiting while someone backed a long way down the road to find a spot where we could pass. I had forgotten just how narrow these lanes are – and they a re a real stress factor for the drivers. All credit and heartfelt thanks goes to them.

Before we started off for Land’s End, Linda & I stole a few hours and took ourselves off to visit the Eden Project: an amazing project – transforming the ugly scar that remained after years of excavating for China Clay. Now it houses some enormous, futuristic ‘bubble’ structures that are environmentally controlled.

 In one are tropical plants, and Mediterranean plants in another.

 The scar has been terraced and planted to produce a truly delightful environment.

Land’s end is a picture: here we are high on a high hill overlooking a sandy beach,

the Atlantic gently rolling in under a blue sky, the green fields rolling away into the distance. We have found a great camp park, and  all is well!

After ‘flirting’ with the borders of various countries while travelling through Germany, we have finally said goodbye to the Reich. Although yesterday’s stopover was actually right on the border between Germany  and Holland– it ran smack through the middle of the little town of Dinxsperlo. (the yellow markers are the border)

Dinxperlo gave me my first real taste of a Dutch town. It was not a big place; small and  cute. It was impossibly neat and tidy. Not just the odd street, but every street we walked down or drove past: neatly clipped hedges, immaculately groomed shrubs and mass-plantings in pocket-handkerchief front gardens; large picture-windows in every house, looking out on to the street, and each one displaying a precise arrangement of flowers or pottery or lace-work etc.

We saw  interesting signs of spring here too, with new growth glowing bright green against the previous season’s more mature shades. We  saw pine-cones looking like Christmas decorations on one of the garden shrubs.

Every home looked as if it were expecting a visit from the Queen, and I came to the conclusion that this tidiness must be built in to the national psyche.

We were fortunate in Dinxperlo: when we arrived we discovered that the designated parking area was closed and so we cautiously nosed our way down the street and found another parking area, attached to the same large sports complex. It had been raining most of the day, and as we edged our way back into dripping trees a man on a bike, wearing size 15 clogs, came along and told us we were not allowed to park there. Our hearts were sinking when he advised us, ‘but you can park just out there’ What a relief. And the timing turned out to be just in  time: no sooner had we got ourselves wriggled into position than this quiet parking lot suddenly became inundated with cars. The reason soon became apparent: group after group of young kids and youths came marching down the street, chanting slogans and carrying banners. It was obviously a festival/rally of some sort and it seemed that the whole town had turned up to  cheer them on.

And at least half the town arrived on bikes. I have never seen so many ordinary commuter-style bikes in one place before. We took a walk down the street while the people were milling about and I found it interesting, looking at the Dutch bikes. Being a keen biker myself I am always interested to see what other countries are doing with bikes. The Dutch have the advantage of living in a dead flat country. Boring it may well be, but it sure makes for easy cycling! With  no hills to contend with, the Dutch have developed the ultimate in commuter –biking comfort. Weight is obviously of no concern, although there are many aluminium framed bikes to be seen. All have sturdy mudguards, stylish chain protectors, streamlined built-in headlights, dynamo hubs, sturdy carriers and panniers, elaborate handlebar configurations and often 8-speed hub gears. (electric power-assisted bikes are also popular – but they are not cheap – overE1000)

All riders adopt an extreme upright position with backs ramrod straight and at 90 deg to the road, consequently handlebars are mounted well above saddle height. So cycling is a dignified and sedate business, and one sees all manner of people riding: workers in ordinary garb, bankers in pin-striped suits, mothers with kids in a baby seat at the back, (or in a tow-along carriage), ladies in high heels and snazzy hair-do’s, and everyone in between. The verdict: in Holland cycling is universal.

And the layout of the streets confirm this: a wide clearly-marked bike lane down either side of the street with a narrow strip left in the middle for 2-way traffic! Cyclists cruise with no fear for cars – they know cars will always politely give way to them. Incredible!

Dinxperlo has two features that make it unusual. The first is that the town actually straddles the border between Germany and Holland: it has a foot in each country. Ironically it has two supermarkets, almost opposite each other. Oneisin Germany and the otherin Holland. Although all prices are in Euros, the pricing structures are different. For instance, milk in Germany is almost half the price of milk over the road, in Holland! The border passes down the main street and a row of yellow diamonds on the road, show you which country yoiu happen to be in.

The other claim to fame is Dinxperlo’s ‘Smallest Church in Europe’ This is a really neat little church, about 8×6 metres in size. How or why it was built was not clear, but it appeared that the church was still in use, I imagine a congregation of 6 plus a preacher, would fill it nicely.

The next day we moved further north to a little town called Burgen. (from where  I am writing this) Burgen is ‘Mixture as before’ – tidy streets and houses and neat little garden plots.

We are parked on the side of a marina connected to the canal/dyke system. This is a million-dollar spot: we are right next to the jetty and watch the coming and going of various launches and yachts.

Just around the corner is the canal proper and on it ply the same massive barge-like traders that we saw all the time on the Rhine. Behind us is a large grassed area with a kids playground. The town itself is just 5-10 mins walk away so everything is dandy. Unfortunately the rain is chasing us at the moment and so our activities have been a bit restricted. However the kids have had a good time on the playground and this afternoon we all went for a walk to explore the town.

We found a colourful rack of clogs, which confirmed that we were indeed in Holland.

On our return we made a  close inspection of a couple of 2nd hand folding bikes that were sitting outside the harbour-master’s office. We have found our two old clunkers so handy that we have been keeping an eye open for more bargains to add to the stable. A thorough test-ride on each bike plus a run through on the folding action indicated that these bikes were in fair condition for their age. He wanted E45 for one and E35 for the other. Total E80. Without prompting he said we could have the two for E75. After some discussion among ourselves, and after testing the bikes, Jgirl14 made him an offer of E70 for the two. After about 4 secs hesitation he accepted, so now we have 4 bikes and a baby-carrier in our stable!The older kids are very excited to be getting back on wheels. I can’t see us acquiring any more, but this will mean that the older ones can get further afield in their exploring of an area.

By the way while in the town this morning (on a lone stroll) I got myself a desperately-needed haircut. Due to a slight mis-understanding of meaning, I ended up with a no.2 all over. Talk about ‘lost in translation’! However, the lass that sheared me was very pleasant and took about an hour to perform the operation – much better value than my recent cataract operation! The haircut was so severe that after Tgirl5 inspected me closely, she said to me, “I know you are still Grandpa because I recognise your blue jacket”! (even my son was prompted to comment that I look considerably better with longer hair)

-well we have yet to take a look at St.Paul’s in London, but if my dimming memory serves me right, that is but a shadow compared to this simply magnificent building. Actually ‘building’ is a completely in-appropriate term for such a breath-taking, awe-inspiring example of man’s desire to honour God through architecture.

We arrived in Koln on a wet evening (yes it was raining again) but the ‘Vomo’ park still looked just great. Here we are yet again perched on the banks of the mighty Rhine river, at the edge of a beautiful tree-lined park, bounded by a  superb walk-way come cycle path that follows the river right into the heart of the city. It  was probably a 2-3km walk but one which all the kids tackled quite happily.

This twin-spire-ed cathedral is simply enormous, but beautifully proportioned.

The scope and intricacy of the stone-work defies the imagination; how could anyone sit down and plan such an enormous undertaking with its flying buttresses adorned with lace-like carvings,

the hundreds of statues and statuettes that surround the entrance archways,

the sheer size of the building and the mechanics of erecting the vaulted rooflines – it is almost too much to take in.

I was fortunate and managed to slip inside just before they closed the doors, to prepare for a service. So I managed to record a little of the magnificence of the inside.

The stained glass windows were many and varied, here’s just a sample:

Once outside again, the tribe decided to make the climb up to the belfry in one of the towers. Having done this sort of thing in years gone by, and recalling the vertigo-inducing effect of climbing a  seemingly endless spiral staircase, I elected to take a walk around the area instead. It was entertaining as well as being very pleasant. The square in front of the cathedral was buzzing with people of all sorts, busking musicians,

tourists, church-goers,

‘statue, figures,

 a pavement artist,

 young and old and all nationalities. Then there was the surrounding ‘old city’. Cologne was flattened by the RAF during WWII (fortunately leaving the cathedral relatively unscathed) so the ‘old city was re-built with modern buildings, but retaining the old narrow cobbled streets. So the whole area is ‘pedestrians only’ and it makes for an interesting shopping and eating district. The tribe by he way, had a great time climbing the 100’s of steps up the tower – you will have to go to ***** to read about that.

I found a Starbucks and made a note for future reference: in NZ Starbucks offer free wi-fi service to their customers and I was hoping for the same here. Later in the day R and I returned (by bike) to check it out. We should have guessed – E8 per hour! Fortunately a young woman overheard the conversation and gave Rach directions to a cafe that offered free wi-fi. It took quite a while and several more inquiries but finally we found the spot, some distance further on, but no trouble on our trusty steeds. But things seldom seem to go without a hitch with us, and so R & I found ourselves returning on the following morning to complete the mission. (I was not complaining – it gave me an excuse to treat myself to a coffee and muffin)

The mission was completed successfully but on the return disaster struck. We had to pass under a tunnel-like bridge which at the time they were washing with pressure hoses. So the place was awash with water and hoses snaking over the  footpath. Rach struck the hose at an angle that would have been ok in the dry, but with everything wet, her front wheel just went sliding away, leaving Rach sailing through the air without a bike. It was painful to watch. I had seen her thrown off a wild horse, now here she was being thrown off a wild bike. She sailed through the air in a crouched position, ready for a painful landing. But before she hit the pavement, her head hit the side-wall of the tunnel (covered in black wet goo) Then she hit the pavement with a most unpleasant thud. Damage report: one bruised side of face (smeared in black gunk), two  chaffed knees with protective jeans ripped, two sore hands and one thumb nail painfully torn. It was not good. However after a bit of a cleanup and application of plasters, the lass got back on the bike and persuaded the rapidly-stiffening knee to keep turning until we got back to base.

On the positive side, there was no damage to lap-top in the back-pack, or to the bag of ‘Berliner’ jam donuts that were in the basket on the front of the bike.

We have had a really shivery few days, just lately. Temperatures dropped to a frigid 11 degrees today and what added to the discomfort was the rain. It’s rained solidly today and so we have used the day to move further north and  to do some more hunting for small bits and pieces for the vans.  Driving in the rain is never much fun, and today was no exception. However we finished the day with  a brilliant beef curry and rice, which warmed up  everyone’s cockles.

But in spite of the recent cool temperatures, we have enjoyed exploring some magical spots along the way. We are still hugging the Rheine – a brilliant road follows its course very closely and the last couple of days have been exceptional. Around every bend in the road the eye is greeted with another castle, either perched on a hill, or some remains looming against the road itself.

We passed through many picturesque small townships, and across the river on the other side we saw neat and tidy ‘story-book’ villages nestled on the banks.

Countless vineyards cascaded down the steep slopes of the hills behind the villages – making the scenery almost impossibly beautiful.

As good fortune would have it, we came across a big parking area on the river side, just opposite an interesting-looking town.

We stopped, intending to stretch the legs before moving on, but as it turned out, we stopped and stayed for the night. This gave us the chance to have a really leisurely walk around the town – Bacharach by name. It took us completely by surprise, as if you suddenly strolled onto an historic film set. But there was nothing artificial about this 5-600 years old town and it was buzzing with ordinary life. (we even bought a couple of cheap camp chairs there)

We parked overnight on the banks of the Rheine and got away in the morning to continue our feast of historic buildings.

We finally came across an interesting castle set high on a hill,

and managed to find a spot to park the two vans. (always a bit of a limiting factor when wanting to stop somewhere)

We walked up the steep path and came upon the notice “closed for renovations until 2011.” (believe me at least half of  Germany is being renovated. Heaps of the castles and stately homes are being renovated and countless 100’s of kilometers of autobahn and highway are being ripped up and re-made. Not to mention the bridges that have been closed or partially closed. We know – we have experienced most of it!)) Well we only had an hour or two so could not wait for the Grand re-Opening. Nevertheless the notice advised that you could still get up to the castle terrace – it was the interior that was totally closed.  So on we went. What a fascinating place!

I must apologise if you are getting sick of castles and ancient towns. I thought I would, myself, but surprisingly I continue to be amazed at the creativity of MAN. We may know more today, but we are certainly no smarter than our ancestors!

Here  we are in a Womo park virtually on the banks of the Rheine.

The sun is shining, there is a gentle breeze and it’s about 25C. Very nice. The owner of this park ( a no-nonsense but pleasant enough lady) runs a very tight ship. The place is well laid out and kept in immaculate condition.

We have everything we need here: fresh water; somewhere to dump our toilet tanks and our ‘grey water’ ; a washing machine and the internet available (for a price) on wi-fi. No toilet block or showers but we have those on board, so no worries.

We don’t always have it this good. If it is getting late in the day and we still have not found the park that was supposed to be ‘there’ we head for a parking lay-bye on the autobahn or a quiet free-parking zone by a park somewhere. But even that is not bad – and the cost is a lot less than booking in to a flash holiday park for the night.

But as I said, this place is situated close to the banks of the Rheine so while Rob and Jgirl14 took the bikes , baskets and back-packs for a 4km shopping trip into Bingham,

 and while the other kids were either doing math’s, drawing or just playing – I went for a quiet stroll down to the river.

The Rheine is one big river. Here we are, several hundred kms inland and the river must be at least 1/2  km wide. Not only wide but deep: some seriously large shipping can be seen cruising up and down. A mixture of touristy sight-seeing boats and some very large barge-like ships carrying all manner of things.

Which prompts a thought: this nation certainly uses every type of transport available – and all seem to be fully patronised. At this camp  we are also close to a rail system – 3 lines pass by – and the frequency of passing  trains is astounding. While I was out on a 1/2 hr stroll by the lines, at least 5 trains went by – 12 coach passenger trains and a series of 2, 4 and 6 coach commuter-type trains. Goods trains we hear going past in the night. All, I might say, gliding smoothly over smooth tracks at great speed. On the river, large boats haul goods and people. On the roads huge truck rigs roar along in a seemingly endless procession. (and at Rest stops it is not unusual to see 20 or more trucks parked). Any gaps the trucks leave on the road are filled with cars – and on the autobahns these can be travelling at up to 130kmph! Motor homes are most prolific – there must be 1000’s of them on the roads. And the road network is really impressive and generally in excellent condition. I don’t doubt that the airlines are busy too. It makes NZ’s pathetic efforts seem ridiculous.

Another significant characteristic we have noticed is the natural tidiness of the German people. Probably some Germans would laugh at the notion, but to a Kiwi it is most noticeable. ALL the houses we have seen, in villages and cities, have been well-kept with neat and tidy gardens, flower-boxes etc. Most seemed to be in good condition and those that are not are being renovated! The streets are clean. The shops are neat and tidy. The people in the street all seem to be in their Sunday-best. The occasional jack-booted tattoo-ed person, or the greasy long-haired youth are a rarity. Body-piercing is not common, but bushy moustaches and beer-pots are ‘in’. All the vans in our park are immaculate (and on average the cost would be in the E45k-E90k range) and people sit around at night in their snazzy outdoor furniture settings. Really this is a picture of an affluent, contented people who like to do everything ‘right’ and have the ‘right’ things to do it with. An example ; I bought some washing powder the other day. It was one of a vast  array of choices in the clothes washing/soap powder aisle. I picked one of the most economical, with pictures of shirts,sheets and a blow-up of a mesh of some sort. Looked ok to me so I bought it. (and have used it for hand washing stuff quite successfully) When I took the packet over to the wash-house today the proprietor would not let me use it in his machine. We eventually established that this was a powder for washing net curtains only. Now why would you need a special-purpose detergent for net curtains? They probably have a special one for socks too, but I did not go looking for that. But the Germans seem to have a love-affair with Rules and Regulations and happily obey them all, VERY different from the Kiwi attitude!

German road signage is a language you must learn as you are learning to walk. There is a sign for every conceivable situation on the road and a sign that tells you when the regulation is applicable and another sign to tell you when it is not, There is a sign to tell you the name of the place when you enter it and another (the name with a red cross through it) to tell you that you have left. They do not like the NZ style use of yellow lines on the road – so simple to install and to observe but have signs for no stopping, no overtaking, no parking this side, or that side, or both sides etc etc. But motorists are incredibly polite and safe drivers. They always seem to give way to pedestrians, cyclists and merging traffic. I haven’t seen a fist  (or finger) raised in anger but have always encountered polite consideration from drivers. It has certainly lessened the stress of our introduction to driving vans in Europe.

Well today I tried out another aspect of German culture-the breakfast. When I set off on a quiet walk this morning I had no intention of having another breakfast. But as I walked past a small cafe right on the banks of the river, and observed how  pleasant it seemed to stop and have a coffee in the sun, I went and checked the menu. I had been told that Germans love their sausage or salami for breakfast and sure enough here on the menu was a variety of sausages on offer, served with roll or chips. I ordered the roll with a beef sausage and a cup of coffee, The coffee came first, with 2 little pots of creamy milk, 2 wrapped lumps of sugar and a small biscuit, also wrapped. Shortly after, my sausage and roll was ready – served with generous dollop of mild mustard. A crisp, crunchy roll and a spicy sausage about 8 inches long! Tucking into that with the sun on my back and the Rheine spread out before me – castles sitting on the hillside across the water – was a really enjoyable experience.

The German breakfast met with my approval! But maybe not every morning – or I may start to  get that contented roly-poly look that so many Germans have!