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Can You Carry This Rock For Me? Before Claudia left for work she made sure we had plenty of food for breakfast. "Are you sure you don't want to stay longer?" Claudia asked before jumping in her little sports car. Everyone was so hospitable we didn't stand much chance of getting out of Germany before the snow flew. As Claudia was fond of shouting: "Too much fun!" It was a short distance day. Good thing-we had a late start and then had to contend with some liquid diversion. After breakfast we set off in the damp fog for Ansbach. Much to Sherry's dismay Ansbach was located at the top of a long hill. Most people would have been consoled by the fact that Ansbach housed a beer brewing monastery, but Sherry disliked beer, so we were unable to convince her that the climb was worthwhile. She struggled to the top, complaining that we were going to have to pay for her knee operation. After touring the spectacular gold cloister, I tried a stein of the monk's dark, slightly bitter, thirteen percent alcohol Dinklesbock. Other patrons warned me that I could drink two, but not three. After quaffing that baby, I knew I couldn't have another one or I'd be sleeping in a ditch. Both Sharon and I felt lightheaded after just one. It wouldn't take long to get plastered on that stuff. Beer mugs were a heavy souvenir. Sherry wanted to buy two-as long as I carried them for her. She was quite put off when I politely refused. The steins must have held a liter each and weighed as much as a three pound rock. Sherry had to settle for coasters instead. Not knowing the beer house rule that visitors could bring their own lunch and eat in the beer hall, we instead ate outside in the freezing cold park. Fingers and toes were numb by the time we finished. It was the only time Sherry said she couldn't wait to get to a hill! We had a tough climb through a farmer's field where a milking station sat in the middle. That was more to my liking. Bring the milk house to the cows. There was a trough where the cows lined up for feed and while they were busily chowing down, the farmer snuck up behind and drained their udder into a portable milk container. That method seemed a much better deal than being chained to a stall day and night. We found Wessobrunn-the village that housed a Benedictine monastery. I looked at the church's unique mural ceiling, but the monastery was already closed when we arrived. Our host family for the evening was Hans and Ute. They were in the midst of remodeling the large house they were living in. Paul was a mechanical engineer; Ute was a doctor. They had one son, Paul, who was four years old and well on his way to becoming a spoiled rich kid. Hans and Ute were both interesting to speak with. Ute was interested in homeopathy and Hans planned to start his own business. We saw some of his handy work. He showed us the bicycle he had built for Paul. I wondered if I could get one like that? |
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