Rumors of the disappearance of the badgers and their blog have been greatly exaggerated. We’re still here, still rooting around or whatever badgers do:
It’s less than four weeks left in Bavaria and we have many stories to share since our Passover Passage to India. However, after reading Mark Twain’s A Tramp Abroad (free epub at the link), a very blog-like book about his attempts to walk (Alpenstock and all) through Germany and the Swiss, Austrian, and Italian Alps in the late 19th century, I feel I have little to add. I identified with many of his observations about culture, Alpine scenery, customs and language, even 130 years later. An entire appendix on everything wrong with the German language. How do I even come close to writing like that?
So more stories will be shared eventually, maybe here, maybe in a correspondence in person where all tales can be exaggerated to proper extent, about the the not-so-lazy days of summer, including the family history tour and croquet match of Berlin, an excursion to Prague with Tante June and mostly other Americans, Austrian 40-story ice caves and an Italian frozen dead guy, our 22-km too-steep-for-non-insane-royal-types backpacking trip to King Ludwig II’s Turkish themed hunting lodge/opium den, not to mention his castles and his shallow-water “murder” site, Maya’s adrenaline rush and my sore arms from tackling the hardest verrückt course at the neighborhood high ropes park, why all pre-schools need giant wood chippers, and lots of picnics, hikes, and spending time with friends.
Right now, Germany is in full-throated, horn honking (an unusual thing that) World Cup fever, which will likely end very soon. We’ve even gotten into the act, providing asylum to Americans at our house:
And now we are in our last four weeks, pondering but putting off the pitiful pitching, packing, Prius-selling, and preparations of departure, which involves squeezing one last stopover in the volcanic western outpost of Europe known as Iceland, and then a New York reunion with Rob Zombie, a.k.a. the beast, a.k.a our minivan, and family, and one last road trip through the Midwest, which does not look like this:
But I suspect we’ll be happy to be back to our lakes and creaky insulation-lacking house, and neighbors and friends and family, and stores that are open on Sunday, streets wide enough for a car (or two!), small talk that’s a little bit bigger, compound words with proper use of hyphens and spaces, the ability to actually use cruise control and cheap gas, proper fake mexican fast food, and relaxing back home to the land of bratwurst, beer, cheese, cows, … hey wait a sec!