farm we called home for the week was a lovely place. Nestled in the foothills of the Alps, up a long winding one-lane road, sits the most picturesque little dairy farm. God bless Gisela, the farm’s co-owner. In addition to milking the twenty cows twice each day, she also manages four guest houses, offers breakfast daily, and bakes all of her own bread for the week in an ancient wood burning oven. Oh, and she makes her own jam.
The farm was in a great location and offered a cozy and relaxed place for the kids to explore. The barn kitties were such a huge hit that I’m lucky I didn’t find one in a suitcase when we got home. Audrey and Jack both learned how to milk a cow. Jordan decided kitties were safer than cows. Lord knows, they smell better.
Cloister Ruins at Allerheiligen by way of the Allerheiligen Waterfall. The one kilometer hike started below in the valley and followed the small river through the forest to the top of the mountain . It was easy to imagine the fairytales of the Black Forest as we climbed the damp and mossy trail along the falling water. Snow White, Hansel and Gretel, or Red Riding Hood could have been just past the next turn in the path.
The Cloister Ruins were dramatic. A full half of a church still stands. Built at the end of the 12th century, it was struck by lightning and destroyed in 1804. Jack was amusing himself standing in a large stone trough-like thing on the cloister floor. I smiled and asked him what he thought this was. He guessed, “a watering trough for horses?” He jumped about a mile when I told him it was a sarcophagus. Ewwww.
I’m hopeless. I remind myself of the young men and women on the streets of Beijing that would cross the street just to greet me with a friendly, “Hello!”; this being their one and only word of English.