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Baby Kangaroo The morning was foggy and totally overcast. Breakfast time found us in Donauwörth. Our first order of business was to phone a family in Augsburg for the evening. I phoned the Spatz family-Hubert and Gabriella with daughter Rita and son Baby Kangaroo. Rita answered the phone cheerfully and said they would be delighted to have Canadian cyclists for the evening. The girls were happy. They wouldn't be squished into the tent and they got showers. Town centre was just across the wall-with all its noise and hustle and bustle. We sampled some German bakery items, then returned to the park for a quiet, but cool, breakfast. The moat water flowed past and leaves fluttered to the ground. Women out walking with their children provided entertainment. The young ones danced through the leaves and scampered though the water fountains-much to the dismay of their mothers. Donauwörth had an interesting church with Saint's bones on display. One guy, Stephen I think it was, didn't look too happy about the whole arrangement. He was another dude that had to take a leak and nowhere to go. There was definitely a downside to being a Saint. The military had a forty year anniversary booth set up and were giving away buttons and pens. One fellow told us he had been to Goose Bay in Labrador. "You're ahead of a lot of Canadians," I told him. When I complained about the foggy weather, he gave the atmospheric conditions a thumbs up fifteen kilometers away in Augsburg. "The fog just lies along the river this time of year," he said. "The relative humidity today is ninetyseven percent." We followed the Danube River, winding through farmer's fields, before stopping at a church in the country that had a nunnery and slipped inside for a peek. The huge wooden door creaked loudly as I opened it. It could use a little WD40. Two nuns sitting in pews turned around to look at who dared to interrupt their prayers. Catching a glimpse of all the gold on the alter I quietly snuck back outside and got my camera. A loud shutter click broke the holy silence. Continuing along the Danube River bike path we raved at the castle views and small villages until Sharon realized we were heading to Vienna-a slight detour even for Sharon and me. We corrected our route and set off along the graveled Lech River canal bike path. We were supposed to be following the Romantic Road. Bouncing our way along ruts we commented on how romantic it was. And the pathway was so low we couldn't even see the water in the canal. When we were finally able to leave the cursed route Sherry was complaining of one very sore butt. To make matters worse the we were deposited in the wrong spot. With daylight fading we found ourselves making a hairy ride through rush hour traffic. Westheim, a suburb of Augsburg was our destination. At Gersh an old fellow on a bike gave us directions. We were still some distance away and had to go on heavily trafficked routes. Once again, we were arriving at our host family in the dark. The trip turned out to be well worth our effort. The Spatz family was very friendly. Their hospitality made us feel at home immediately. Dad (Hubert), was a Grade Six teacher. He played the viola and was off to a concert (carrying the viola on the back of his motorcycle). Before leaving he had been kind enough to go over to a farmer friend and bring back fresh milk for us. Mom (Gabriella), was an office worker. Their daughter Rita was finishing a degree in school statistics. And their son, known only to us as Baby Krazy Kangaroo, was an engineer and gymnastics teacher. After feeding us and providing showers the Spatz's passed the evening with tales of "Baby's" exploits as a member of the Krazy Kangaroos-a local gymnastics troupe. "Baby" acquired his name through his role in the group's selfdeveloped gymnastic skit routine. The Kangaroos had traveled many places, taking their show on the road as a means of financing their holidays during summer vacation. From pictures their routine looked as if it was hilarious. |
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