More bizarre occurences to report from my days in Wesseling. Tonight the fam and I sat down to sup upon what could affectionately be termed a German version of fondue. Considering the abscence of any vats of hot cheese for dipping or 70's attire I'm not sure the name suits but I can compare it with nothing else. At some point early in the meal the aforementioned parrot, Fay, was set free from her cage to wander about the room. Fay's immediate goal was to get up close and personal with yours truly. One could hardly blame her for the attraction but I was a bit disconcerted by her constant movements behind my head. She first swung Tarzan style from the side of her cage to the back of my chair. I'll never know exactly how that task was accomplished but seemed to involve her clamping down on the back of the chair with her beak then hurling herself over into the perched position. She then began a constant pecking at my back presumably to get a taste of my jumper. It became apparent later that her intent was to perch on my shoulder but I hadn't gotten the hint. She became fed up with the pecking after some time and in a flurry of feathers and wing to the side of my face landed herself on my shoulder. The numbers of feathers shed by the sudden burst was tremendous and added an interesting flavor to my fondue later.

Her previous pecking inspired little or no confidence on my part and so for a few minutes I sat as straight and steady as a man with a rabid and hungry squirrel attached to his crotch. I looked over to her at regular intervals however to attempt to judge whether her look was one of fury or playfulness. Anyone who has attempted such will know that a parrot's face tells nothing. A swift and sudden movement and sharp pain to the right ear cleared up any ponderings however. Then another flurry of feathers and away she was back to the cage. I thought at first that 'twas only a scratch but my hand revealed the swift bloodloss. I retired to the toilet area for further inquiry and was luckily able to cease the flow quickly. Cathrin then applied the customary massive bandage to the area. The reasoning being to prevent that later a sufficient quantity of beard hair be removed by the disapplication of the bandage. I wasn't quite sure of the logic behind this and so left the toilet with the look and feel of one who took a gunshot to the head.

Upon my return to the feather-tasting fondue I wondered at the reasoning behind the sadistic and brutal attack upon my ear. I have established three possible motives. In my formative years I endured such grief for my Dumbo sized ears (name such as "Aer Lingus ears" was one of the favorites) and perhaps the bird was so enticed at the sight of the enormous beauties that he had to have a taste. Motive two calls into question the birds literacy as when I made bread this evening I misspelled the name Fay as "Faye" on the top of one of the loaves. Motive three is centered in my failed attempts to get Fay to say the words "Koko Kusarece." I have achieved "Koko Ku" and perhaps the pressure my repetition of the phrase has placed upon her led to this vengeful rebuttal this evening. Whatever the reason I will spend at least the night and then some looking like a war veteran. It would be nice to have a story of courage or chivalry to explain away the bandage size rather than one of vengeful attack by talking gray bird. If you click on the picture you can see a few more shots of my bandaged noggin. In case you can't see the picture here is the link.
Vengence during fondue consumption

I have said that I am currently in Koln but for the more technical sods out there I am actually staying in a suberb called Wesseling. I am not sure why I mention this now expect for the sake of unnecessary clarification. My days here have been spent doing as little as possible apart from a fair amount of reading and general lolly-gagging. I have produced three loaves of bread in a week so I guess it can't be considered a complete waste. Most afternoons I was thorougly absorbed in my book "I Claudius." I had begun reading said book in Turkey but lost it after a particularly rough(constant nausea and co-passenger lying on top of me) bus trip. My replacement copy came with the arrival of Floyd to Ireland but until my time here I hadn't the opportunity to continue it. As is prone to happen I was inspired by my read to learn all and then some of the history of the Western World and begin teaching tut-sweet. I had discovered on this journey that I have a noteworthy penchant for historical fiction and this book was perhaps my finest example. It spurred my interest in Roman history tremendously because it was written in the style of a diary as opposed to a list of facts and dates. In spite of my loathsome attitude toward high school students, occasions such as this remind me that I must never rule out the thought of one day being a teacher. I will never forget courses I took in which the teacher made a subject like history come alive and commanded the interest of the student. I would sit in awe and admiration for such as those

Now that I have clarified that my local is Wesseling I must bring to light some of the area's quirks. Yesterday while going to retrieve my photos I passed a window advertising a local photographer. I had never before seen such a frightening example of a studio's work. One of the headlining photos was of a girl with a massive purple mohawk and a smile that might scare off a grizzly. The haphazardly hacked style of the mohawk had the immediate result of nearly bringing up the last seven meals I had consumed. I don't fault the girl for desiring some glamour shots but for her picture to be used for advertising purposes brings into question the business expectations of the studio. Cathrin informed me today that that picture has held that spot for the last ten years. She too seemed not just a little disturbed by the sighting of it.

Reports here also indicate an increased number of cats being snatched from streets and gardens alike. I went with Cathrin today to a pet store and the employee there warned that cat theft was on the rise and that especially her beloved black cat Fussel is at risk. Apparently black cats are the key targets of this mayhem. The pet store worker was not the first to mention this new threat making it all the more believable despite the seemingly ridiculous nature of it. These warnings also coincided with a dream Cathrin recently had of Fussel being taken as fodder for the local Satanist group's communal rituals. In her dream she later rescued hers and other unfortunate pets from the clutches but certainly it brings a shudder to one's bed time thoughts. I have now decided that Wesseling is perhaps the key Satanist stronghold of the area and will be on close daily watch for any and all suspicious goings-on.

I have added a gallery of photos to Lovable Quirks that includes shots of our adventures from Bulgaria to Koln though sadly in reverse order. I want to also quickly remind that the comments link at the bottom of each post is working and have decided that all of you know this and just couldn't be bothered leaving any. Gracias for that with forboding cherries on top.

Not a whole lot to say about the activity of Vienna. The journey into and out of said city was fairly uneventful though I will say that I couldn't recommended driving there. The maze of roads in and around the center provide more than its fair share of headaches and I hadn't the energy for it. Lack of sleep the previous night and the emotional tiredness resulting from saying goodbye to more treasured relationships and experiences were the culprits. After driving round and round until all were dizzy I started stopping at the mere sight of "Hotel" until eventually we found one that provided the goods. Each time we had stopped Andy would head off into the night with plenty of questions for the hotel owners and I sat in the car trying to stay awake by reading about the histories of different languages. Needless to say I was bordering unconscious by the time he returned. It was sweet relief when finally the thought of bed and dreams of dancing dwarves became possible.

Our full day in Vienna was spent doing a bowel-bashing amount of walking that resulted in three days of moderate to "oh-shite this hurts" type foot aches. As usual we attempted to see all and then some that the city had to offer. Luckily the sites to see are all concentrated in a fairly small area when compared with the Sahara Desert or Amazon rainforest. The city was quite beautiful and the architecture grand but sadly my energy and motivation for sight-seeing has reached an all time low. It is a place best viewed when one's interest is peaked to ungodly levels because their is enough history there for further days of exploration and enjoyment. Even the ducks of Slovenia in all their splendor didn't get the type of photographic coverage from Andy that Vienna's finest received. He has studied copious histories and that provided a frame of reference for him to be able to enjoy it to a much greater degree.

When evening came and tiredness was heavily upon me it was decided (Andy being thrilled with this and I wanting dreams of dancing dwarves) that the Vienna Opera was the place to go. We had been told that standing-room tickets were a mere two euro and that was enough to get the wobblers going(at least early in the day). We made our way there and at the door were greeted by a scalper selling apparently "cheap tickets." I have never seen such a well dressed scalper but this was for the opera so I guessed that the usual bearded and beer-breathed scalpers of rock concerts had stayed at home. His "cheap tickets" were bordering the 40 euro mark and though some old lady next to us got giggly at the sight of the them it didn't inspire me and Andy compared with our 2 euro brand. We instead went in around the back to where some low-life and high-life students were already waiting in line. I say high life to describe some wearing shoes and clothes normally worn in yacht clubs and low-life for a chap nearby in his torn jeans and a girl in sprayed-on blue flowery britches. What a marvelous thing stereotyping is. After a long wait of standing and sitting (rather collapsing in my case) the booth sprang to life and we got our tickets and entered. Some more waiting and then we were brought to our standing bar(that is bar to lean against and rear-end-intruding step to sit on behind). A clerk then repeatedly explained to Andy in German that we had to take our coats and bags to the cloak room. The stunned and confused look on his face eventually cued her attempt at the English translation and so away we went to the cloak room.

The performance itself was worth the mustard in my exhausted state. I stood for as long as my quivering legs could manage and then plopped down on the rear-end-intruding step for the remainder. The sit down proved challenging as an old lady with considerable head size was blocking my view. She seemed to enjoy waving her head about in semi-circular motions so as long as I followed the motion I got to witness some medium percentage of the on stage events. Andy, though seemingly filled with boundless energy, missed one important aspect of our opera experience. He failed to notice the swivel translator next to his hands and so spent the entire time confused as hell regarding the plot of the story. I had seen and made use of the translator when standing but he apparently never noticed it. Though mesmorized by the show he hadn't the foggiest why the two large woman on stage were wailing and gesticulating and why their loves disappeared and reappeared in various attires. After Act One we decided to vamoose as the full extraveganza had another two hours on the way. It wasn't until after our departure that I understood Andy's dilemma in not understanding a feckin' thing and clued him in to the handy translation device. Two euros well spent all in all despite the long term results of that step where I spent the majority of my time.

The next morning after a fab sleep we said goodbye to this old town and began the trek toward my current local. We spent that night in Bamberg, a city I visited in the early days of this voyage. Our minds and hearts were set toward Koln and my fam here however so neither of us had a lot of energy for the place. It still remains perhaps my favorite of German cities for its culture and manageable size. One last thing I thought to mention here is a dilemma that Andy may not soon forget. I on many of these long drives and late evenings was prone to the giggles as only a teenage girl watching Justin Timberlake videos could match. I'm not sure if 'twas the result of exhaustion or enjoyment but at times I could hardly contain the laughter save preventing us driving off the road. Between the "disinfections", Serbian border cavity searches, and burek soups I'm hoping that it was a result of enjoyment but at times I wasn't sure. I'm certain that Andy began to think his travel companion a bit of a lunatic in these moments. The incident I hope I don't soon forget is of driving into Plovdiv in Bulgaria singing over an over line 1 of "Hello" by Lionel Ritchie. The line that goes "Hello, is it me your lookin' for" seemed to spring to mind at the mere sight of St. Cyril's wondrous alphabet. I remember at the time getting the most ridiculous enjoyment out of that song especially as Andy tried to sort out where the blazes we were. Now that I have put the driving to rest for some time I'm hoping the sanity returns but that is yet to be seen. Anyone looking to hear a classic shite song should get a hold of that tune and play it over and over.

No luck as of yet getting the parrot to spout that phrase but this week I shall double my efforts. I figure the parrot should be multilingual by the end of my stay. After our burek soup and velika riba (big fish in slovenian) from behind experiences ourselves and Ana meandered back to the small and welcoming capital, Ljubliana. I say meandered because though the distance was short from her house, we took a day to get there. On the way we stopped to take a gander at the famed local river. The entire duck population of Western Slovenia was out and Andy couldn't get enough saucy pictures of 'em. I never knew the chap had such a penchant for the billed creatures but after this day I shall never wonder again. You never know where some fellows will get their kicks. The river itself was stunning(see pictures on Lovable Quirks). The color of the water matching that of Plitvice in Croatia. Unlike Plitvice it is possible here to take a dip wearing the necessary mentionables and the water beckons one to do just that. I look forward to returning when the trees are arrayed in their mid year splendor.

After freezing our a's off for a few hours (that being the only draw back of the outing) while Andy did his "A duck's life" photoshoot, we continued our journey to the capital and Ana's university therein. A communal effort at the dorm resulted in dinner for the three of us followed by a marvelous chit-chat with some of the other students. Anita (the other Slovenian I had met in Istanbul) and a friend of hers joined the occasion also. Normally to encourage conversation among a group of the size we ended up with, copious amounts of alcohol must be consumed but not so in this case. At the beginning it was of course necessary to work through the awkwardness of surrounding strangers but after some time group conversation happened freely. I am still impressed that we sat for some hours talking about society and about education. When it was over I asked myself if I had ever had that group experience. I still cannot recall a time. I have in the past been so frustrated by attempts to talk in groups or with individuals about subjects that affect our lives so will remember this experience with hope that it can occur.

We stayed that night in the hostel I have previously pictured. It is a converted prison with cell like rooms and oddly positioned beds. Certainly an experience when compared with the drab motifs of others where I have stayed. Our final morning in Slovenia we were back at the dorms in crepe making heaven with further conversation accessiories. In terms that don't border the ridiculous I mean to say that we ate crepes at Ana's dorm and chatted the majority of the afternoon away. The time then came for our lamentful goodbyes before we headed sausage side at top speed. The journey to Vienna was of a greater distance than anticipated so it is good we vamoosed when we did. Up now on Lovable Quirks are pictures from Bamberg, our overnight stop on the way to Koln, and our last toursitic venture to the cathedral of Koln. Andy returned to London yesterday afternoon. He'll be in London until tomorrow before returning to everyone's favorite city in Arizona. I had to say yet another goodbye but am encouraged that I myself am heading there in just over a month God willing.

I am two countries behind still but have plenty to say and so will give it a go. I want to try to describe some of the many high points of the time we had in Slovenia. Koko Kusarece means something similar to "How do you say" in Slovenian and it is the phrase that I most remember from my time there. I am trying now to teach it to the parrot belonging to my friends here in Germany. Slow going but I'm sure the parrot will know it after two weeks of repetition. Needless to say we are safely stowed back where it all really began for me. On arrival day a birthday cake had been prepared as my German mother here was sad that she couldn't be there on my birthday to bake one for me. Thoughtful things like that are the type to knock the socks off me. Whenever I had thought of returning here and of the care they had for me my heart felt overwhelmed to tears. I shall want to describe more soon but for now Slovenia is the name of the game.

On day two in the country we went with Ana to the Slovenian coast and the town of Koper. There we met with Ana's friend Snezka and Snezka's mother. We were treated to a marvelous luncheon feast and the preparations allowed us to feel like honored guests. It is so wonderful to experience such hospitality on the first meeting with someone. After feasting and chatting we went to visit a town further along the coast but not before receiving gift bags filled up with treats. It is difficult to describe the warmth and welcomeness generated in such hospitality but I can assure you the feeling is wonderful. We spent the rest of the evening wandering this other town which I have currently forgotten the name of. Andy got a complete history lesson of the place from Snezka and otherwise we all had marvelous conversations. Conversations that didn't have to end at "What kind of work do you do" or "Rough weather we are having, huh?" Rather about life, the passions that drive us, and the importance of close relationships with people.

Our next two and a half days were spent at the home of Ana's parents. Throughout the day at the coast there was frequent mention of a massive fish being prepared by her parents for our arrival. There had been much concern and debate over the best method of preparation. The type of talk again that warms the heart of the visitor to know that there is excitement and preparations being made. Sadly we arrived too late the first evening to sup upon the beastly mastadon (huge fish) but the next day our bellies were filled with it. Never in our time there were we allowed to go hungry and most that we ate was either made or grown by the fam. Ana and her parents allowed us to feel so comfortable and welcome there. There was a geniune and undisguised interest in our lives and our families. I am always amazed at the gift of God that I can have met such people on this journey. I only hope that in the future I will be able to replicate such a welcoming environment in my own home. After nearly a week of travel this was the refreshing time that I know I needed and received. I hope the number of days is short between now and my return to my new friends.

I will have to continue these musings later but don't want to forget this. The drive from coast to Ana's house by misty night is one that I shall not forget. The exceptionally winding roads and the forcefulness with which Andy was clutching the dashboard was intense. I never could see the major bends in the road until just before impact and each time the lives of at least two or three people seemed to flash before Andy's eyes. When he wasn't clutching the dashboard he held my burek (Slovene fast food that we procured along the way) with such intensity that the thing was more like soup on arrival at her parent's house. I am lucky that I seldom panic and Ana is lucky that she could seldom see out the window. Andy on the other hand got the full story, poor chap, but survived without soiling himself and for that I and my passenger seat are pleased. I had tried for sometime to hold on to the burek and munch upon it but the thing was a bit more than greasy and so my hands were skating on rather than gripping the steering wheel. I had to drape a person sized napkin on the steering wheel just to be able to hold it adequately so Andy was given the job of clutching the burek. It was inedible on arrival in its soup state but I guess better than me holding it and my greasy paws resulting in death or dismemberment. Didn't want to leave this part out but as I said I have more to add and will do so shortly.

The excitement of our Serbia to Croatia border crossing pales in comparison to that of Croatia to Slovenia. We thought that the quiet road and warm smiles would see us through but were sadly mistaken. The guards took one look at my list of visited nations and needed ten minutes discussion to decide what to do with us. We were told to park off to the left and then stood as all border guards huddled together and spoke in hushed tones. Eventually two chaps came over to calmly inform us that everything had to come out. A big table was rolled over to the back of the car and the latex gloves were fitted. Emptying the front of the car to the table posed few problems. The guards took a look through our suitcases and seemed to give the nod that each was well packed. There was a delay then which neither myself or Andy understood until a scrawny and mangy dog emerged. I had not previously seen a drug sniffer that had such an appearance of malnourishment but was hardly going to complain. The dog was shown a nice toy and then allowed to jump around inside the car. It sniffed, it bounded, it tried briefly to chew on the seats but apparently found nothing. It was then led around to the table of baggage and allowed to jump around on top. A bottle of wine was knocked over and came open and a clothes bag was bitten repeatedly but again apparently nothing found of interest.

I hoped that to be the end of it but sadly no. We had yet to empty out the trunk and it was obvious that the guards would not be satisfied without that. It should be noted that that trunk has not been emptied in 7 months and was no small task to accomplish. My mini library, my collection of foreign wines, foods from at least seven nations, and car care devices all ended up on the table of goodies. I was sure that even without the presence of drugs that the dog wouldn't be able to keep his paws off the food stock. Especially the homemade items that I had received from my Polish friends after the Greece venture. When the dog returned and gave all a once over with the nose he was completely disinterested however. Seems that none of the foods I've got suited him. At this point the border guards seemed confident that we were indeed clear. I began then the long process of putting everything back into the trunk of the car. I was glad of this actually as I really needed to reorganize the lot and had not had an opporutunity previously. Another border guard came to us and presented us with a form stating that we were drug free after thorough search. He said that we could use this in the future to prove that we were cleared though I'm not sure that a form written entirely in Slovenian would be of much use elsewhere. Nevertheless we accepted the form with a smile.

We then asked our new chums if they knew the way to the university in Ljubliana where we were set to meet Ana that afternoon. The border guard immediately smiled and said that that was his university and ended up giving Andy the full speel about where the university was and showed the way on the map. There were smiles and handshakes all round when we finally were packed up and heading off. As always outwardly difficult situations can turn out to be marvelous adventures. In this case we left the border with a newly organized car and complete directions to our destination.

Take a look at the two new galleries on Lovable Quirks from our day today in Austria and more of Slovenia. The first in the Slovenia album pictures me with Ana and a good friend of hers, Sneska. Somewhere in the middle is a picture of Ana and her family who were our hosts for three days. Right after the family shots is a picture of another friend from Ana's village named Mijha (I hope I spelled that right). Tomorrow we head to Germany with plans to be in Koln with my adopted family by Wednesday. They are already making preparations and excited for our arrival. I cannot express how overwhelmed I am to know that my visit is awaited with such excitement. I'm still convinced that I am the luckiest chap to have such people in my life. The gifts from God never cease, I only need to be able to see them. I will try to share about the marvelous experience of Slovenia in the next day or two at the latest. There too we were greeted with such warmth and hospitality that I long for the day that I can return to those that I met there.