Monday, May 26, 2014

::DAY 8: From Straat to Straße::

We said goodbye to our bungalow in Hellendoorn, Netherlands. . .
. . . and crossed the border into Germany, accompanied by our tiny clompen-wearing Dutch mascott. It was a beautiful drive, as the flatland gradually rose into hills dotted with red roofs and church spires. But it was a long drive:

Kid 1: "What am I thinking of?"
a. They're black and tiny.
b. There are lots of them on the highway.
c. Every car has them.
d. They come out of teh car when it's not driving.
e. Every car needs them.

Other Kids: "Um. . ."

Kid 1: "Pupils!" {As in, eyeball pupil-- and he says this as though it were the most self-evident thing in the world.}
Kid 2: "What am I thinking of?"

a. It can be any colour.
b. It can't move unless you move it.
c. You can wear it.
d. It can be big or small.

Other Kids: "Huh?"

Kid 2: "The Number 6."

A long, long drive it was.
Stopped for our first German meal in Wurzburg: Sausages, creamed cabbage, schnitzel, potato pancakes. 

It was really hard to leave without stopping in at the glittering Residenz, but like I said, it was a long drive.
Our home for one week was in the medieval, walled-town of Dinkelsbuhl. We passed under the stone tower, and into another world where everything was a thousand years old. That first day, we didn't get far before calling it a night. This is our street:
The wonderful woman whose house we were calling home met us with a homemade offering. It could not have been more welcome as we tried to settle in.