Switzerland, Liechtenstein, Austria, Germany. A record for us. Philip discovered the joys and terrors of the German Autobahn (minivans were passing him doing over 100 mph), and Emmett discovered the joys and terrors of playing with Swiss school children.
If you see a group of Swiss children coming at you, run the next direction. We took the cable car up Mount Pilatus so Clare and Isabella could do more of that Tarzan stuff they like (zip lines, tightrope walking, lumberjacking up a tree, negotiating suspended logs) at the midstation, but Emmett only had eyes for the playground where after bounding around yelling, "dude, that was awesome," he was rather viciously bullied by some Swiss boys. Was it anti-Americanism or just jack-booted thuggery? The kids were all under 10. Scary.
How incongruous for this to happen on a beautiful mountain populated by cows munching on emerald-green grass, softly ringing their cow bells in the mist. Well, it's a weird place--myth has it that a dragon rock fell from the sky forming the mountain, that giants once lived there, and that Pontius Pilate is buried there. So random. What was he doing there? And why did they name the mountain after him? At any rate, we ascended the obligatory Swiss Alp.
Once in the car and on that Autobahn, we zipped over to Bavaria to our hotel nestled between two of King Ludwig's castles--Neuschwanstein and Hohenschwangau--very pretty as you'll see in the next post.
No comments:
Post a Comment