Aunt Rachel and I began to pack up camp shortly after waking up this morning.
Scrimping for space in suitcases is our speciality, and I plan to leave no nook or cranny unused in mine, and I have my brand new backpack to use as my "purse."
By some miracle, all of my chocolate was able to fit in my carry on bag. If they give me any problems as to the (relatively obscene) amount I am bringing back, I just have this to say, Mr. German TSA guy:
"Ich habe zwei schwestern und fünf brüder bei Mir zuhause."
Or I'll just say:
"Pick your favorite and let me by, sonny!"
(Only, please do not take the dunkel vollnuss. Ich mag dieses art die beste.)
Ok. Clearly I'm getting sidetracked here. I'm going to need to find someone to speak German with when I get home.
There were pancakes to be had this morning.
"Oh no, don't get my underwear in the picture!!"
"Eh, I can crop it out, no problem. But it still doesn't change the fact you sleep in your underwear."
*giggles ensued*
However, for some reason, I felt like eating fish. I am one of those weird people who don't limit breakfast to "breakfast-y items" such as bread and cereal and such. I hadn't said anything, and Arnheidur must have read my mind, because she offered me some smoked trout I have yet to taste, fished from the lake near her family home all the way back in Iceland. It was gooooood. Oh man.
Along with some sauerkraut, tomatoes, and butter on a pretzel and I'm good to go.
And go we did. But not before we got coffee and I got an espresso....with a scoop of ice cream. They don't do ice in coffee and thus, the ice cream. Arnheidur had the idea and got it for me. Great idea.
We drove a ways through the beautiful sunny countryside to what had vaguely been described to as a "park" of some sort, but to our surprise, it was a full-on ropes course, filled with treacherous courses and phobia-inducing runs full of tricky footwork. Not to mention the zip lines and other balance courses which were, all in all, enough to last much more than the three hours allotted to each group.
But boy, did we ever have us a good time. Embla and I did every course save one, and some multiple times.
We didn't get many pictures because we were too busy jumping off of posts and flying through the wilderness, but we did get this picture, just go document how reediculous our outfits looked.
There was even a little course for Erla to do.
At this place, before you get started, they have you a required course how to safely clip yourself on and off each run. Once you are done with training, you are on your own and from then on out, you are the one solely responsible for clipping on and off the courses safely.
In the states, they would never EVER EVER allow you to be this responsible, but here, things are different. One fella supervised the whole place, and he was rarely called upon to assist. It would appear that since they both teach you carefully, and then give you the full responsibility, the rest seems to take care of itself. I will admit more than once double or triple checking my line, wondering if I didn't have it wrong before I put my whole body weight on the two skinny lines of rope and then zoomed away, thirty feet off the ground.
I climbed to the top of one very, very tall tree on a skinny ladder and realized I was in the location of the free fall.
When you have to clip yourself in a complicated manner onto a ring that looks entirely too small to hold your bulk in preparation to jump straight down fifty some feet below you before, if all goes well, the line catches you and you float to the ground, you must get it right 100% the first time.
I saw the instructions on how to clip in first in German, and then, to my relief, English. Even so, I still wasn't sure if I got it right and called down to the helper dude who looked to be a very small ant below me, and he could tell from the ground I had it on correctly.
I mean, it's all well and fine if you don't understand all of what you are ordering from a German menu and you end up getting Head Cheese or something instead, but this right here is CRUCIAL to get the English/German translation correct.
Of course I jumped.
Would do it again. It is just what I imagined jumping out of a ten story window would feel like.
We were all pretty hungry and worn out but we stopped in Tübingen for dinner, which was a lovely town about a half hour away from Schönaich.
(Typical driving view, as seen from the backseat)
It was a picture perfect, quaint German town and a lovely place to spend the evening.
ARCHITECTURE!
Of course, I couldn't have my last night in Germany without some traditional Maultaschen, aka German "ravioli," which is what I ended up getting. (Mit Ei)
I also ate some of Embla's "pancake soup," which is like a savory pancake in chicken broth with seasoning.
I should also show you Spätzle, which is handmade pasta that is served all over Schwabia and beyond.
The drive home was lovely.
We had a slice of two of Arnheidur's banana cake when we got home and then Racel and I finished packing. Sleep is next. My biological clock, which is a very well-adjusted to Euro time, is getting ready to be all shaken up again tomorrow. We fly out for Atlanta and will be back in good ol' NC by Monday evening. I have some things to say as well as closing thoughts as I wrap this trip up, so look for those coming soon. Was going to post those tonight but we were having too much fun in Tübingen, ya know. :)
No comments:
Post a Comment