Halto Bahn

It rained all day Sunday, putting a damper on the Blumenfest in Rothenbach.  So we bid auf wiedersehen to the Schmieder family and set off for Penzberg, just south of Munich, for a visit with Helga’s friend Salvia.

I made good time most of the way to Munich, keeping it under 170 kph given the conditions, when suddenly about 40 or 50 kilometers from Munich the autobahn turned into a parking lot.  It took about two hours to go ten kilometers, so we got off at the next exit.  Owing to good signage, we made it to and through Munich, and arrived at Penzberg in time for an unexpected supper.

Salvia found us a nice hotel nearby.  When we awoke the next morning it was still raining, so we decided to skip th Ubergurgl ad heat straight for Val Gardena via the Brenner Pass.

On the way to Orizei.  Schloss below Brenner Pass.

On the way to Orizei. Schloss below Brenner Pass.

As you can see, things are looking up:  It stopped raining.

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Fried Egg Cake

Apricot-topped cake

Apricot-topped cake

Saturday was Helga’s third birthday party.  It was a smash.  Her three sisters, brother, assortment of subsequent generations, and attendant companions (such as myself) feasted on German breakfast foods (bread, cheese, nd cold cuts), traditional Rebecca fare (tomato and cucumber salad; pasta salad), two cakes, and libations.

Helga, Roswidea, and Anna Marie

Helga, Roswidea, and Anna Marie

Rebecca suggested I entitle this post Schwarze Seele after cousin Roswidea’s boyfriend Klaus told a story about having a black soul.  I did not think it an appropriate name for such a joyous event, however.  I also found it an ironic characterization for Klaus, who did not seem dark at all.  He related numerous humorous anecdotes, including a scene from Animal House where the Germans were credited with the bombing of Pearl Harbor.  He also sang verses from a few songs (contextual rather than performantory).  And he plays guitar and likes Alison Krauss.

Anther potential title would be My Friend Jack.  On a previous trip to Germany w stayed with cousin Hans Werner.  We gave him a bottle of Jack Daniels, at which time his yes lit up and he said, “My friend Jack.”  At the party we had a litre bottle of our friend Jack, which, between Klaus, Hans Werner and me (okay, among but it just doesn’t sound right) we just about killed.

Aunt Erika and cousin Hans Werner.

Aunt Erika and cousin Hans Werner.

Earlier in the day, we went looking for a short hike and discovered one of the trails we’d hiked onto he fortress ruins went right by our house.  We didn’t have time to hike all the way to the fortress, owing to the impending party, but in the short time we had we were able to cover more than a third of the distance.  There are well-marked trails to just about anywhere in Germany, it seems.

I’m going to take the easy way out an simply finish this entry with some pictures.

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