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Wrinkled Underwear Andrea saved us. It was Saturday-our major shopping day-and none of us had remembered. Fortunately Andrea reminded us while we still had an hour of shopping left before all the stores closed. Peter checked out our bikes while we were shopping and proclaimed them unfit for travel to countries with few bicycle repair facilities. I told Peter that I liked to keep mine in a state of perpetual disrepair. Peter was more concerned about them than I was and lamented it was too late to go to a shop-there was only half an hour left until they closed for the weekend. I remained unconcerned and finally left the decision up to Sharon. She assured Peter we would go to a shop in Italy. He seemed relieved. If Sharon could make me half as concerned as Peter about our mechanical wellbeing, she would be ecstatic. But I didn't think she was going to hold her breath. Peter and Andreas led the way to Lindau-downhill for twentysix kilometers-on side roads and bike paths. Lindau is situated on an island. Beautiful homes lined the lake shore. Peter and Andreas gave us a brief tour of the town and showed us the lion that guarded the harbor on the Bodensee. We saw the famous Rathaus with its mural walls and decorative roof line. In the market area there was a chalk artist making a colorful mural. A young girl with roller blades sat transfixed as he worked. I was impressed with his talent. And to think, the next rain would wash away his masterpiece. Peter and Andreas left us in Lindau, as they had to return to Heinlinkirch by 5:00 p.m. so Andreas could go to work at her daycare job. Peter had a job interview as a tour leader. He wasn't sure how badly he wanted the job though. "I don't want to ride today. It's too windy. It's too hot. It's too cold. It's raining. It's uphill. I'm bored. I'm hungry. I'm tired," he mimicked possible future clients. "Ah, what the hay," I told him, "I hear that everyday, and I don't even get paid for it." Their return trip was twentysix kilometers all uphill, so it would be a good workout for them. We said goodbye and wished them a good trip in Thailand. Lindau had two churches side by side. Sharon and I entered one just in time to hear the organist perform a spectacular solo on the huge pipe organ. The entire church reverberated as he struck each cord. I was grinning ear to ear and my eyes were tearing from sheer enjoyment. Our first private pipe organ concert was fantastic! Lindau was the point Sherry had planned to catch the train back to Pegnitz. Suddenly, she was thinking of coming with us to Venice. To continue or not to continue-that was the question. "We're not going to have host families anymore," Sharon warned her. "We'll be crammed into that little tent every night for two weeks. There's not going to be showers very often certainly not every night. It's going to be a lot colder at nights-it's already pretty chilly during the day. There's going to be a lot more uphill." "Doesn't your knee hurt?" I intoned helpfully. It wasn't that we didn't want her to come with us, but we wanted her to realize it wasn't going to be as cushy as it had been. In fact, it could get downright miserable. She phoned Murray and talked to him for about an hour having a real heart to heart soul search. Sharon and I sat in the square awaiting her decision. When she returned she said hesitantly: "Well, I'll be coming with you guys if that's all right with you. Murray said if I came back that will just mean two of us will be bored instead of one. He's finished reading his four hundred page book and taken up drinking as a hobby." We looked in the host family book and found there was a listing for Lochau, just over the border in Austria. Sherry phoned. She had a little trouble calling Austria and got a couple of wrong numbers first. Finally she got through and Erwin said: "Sure, come on over." Our host's home, designed by Erwin himself, was beautiful with a magnificent wood burning stove built into the center. The porcelain work done on the exterior was a work of art, complete with signature. Erwin was an English teacher. The first thing he wanted to know when we arrived was if we cared to race up a nearby mountain with him. "Uh, no thanks. Maybe next time," we cheerily declined. His wife, Traudy, was a psychiatrist who worked in a house where people lived as inpatients. Their son Ronnie was ten years old and liked playing basketball and watching hockey. I had no idea there were so many Canadians playing hockey on Austrian teams until I talked with him. He rattled off names of Canadian players I'd never heard of before. Sharon beat him at oneonone basketball. She was just lucky she was taller than he was. We had our own rooms upstairs. Traudy gave us towels for showers. "Sorry, the towels aren't ironed," she apologized. I wasn't too worried since I hadn't seen an iron in about a year and even if I did I wouldn't have used it to iron towels. I wasn't sure if she was pulling my leg or not. During brotside we had a good chat with Erwin on many subjects and since he spoke English so well, we took the opportunity to freely ask him questions about Austria. Sherry took the opportunity to try out some of Erwin's homemade firewater. Later, as we talked with Erwin in the living room Traudy busied herself ironing underwear. Who was going to know if your underwear was wrinkled? I guess she wasn't kidding about the towels after all. |
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