garden party day 1

We’re woken by a reggae whistle and a chirpy voice telling us that it’s 6.30am local time. My head tells me it’s really only 5.30 and I’m about to become very grumpy, but the reggae whistle has intrigued me.  More than that, I’m forced to smile when I think about it and actually wake up.  Whose idea was that I wonder? It did the trick.

We skip the ‘full english breakfast’ in the restaurant and opt instead for a coffee and croissant in the bar.  I wonder if ‘full english’ will take on other connotations once Brexit negotiations are concluded.

I’d thought about buying some euros before we left, but we were very busy rushing around and what with one thing and another, I never got round to it. I have a pot of currency left over from previous trips abroad, so grabbed a few bank notes to tide us over.

There’s a big queue in bar and so to save time I hand over a 10 euro note instead of waiting for the credit card machine.  “We don’t take these, sir.”  I’m puzzled and can’t imagine why.  

The effects of the reggae whistle begin to wear off.  People stop ordering to watch.  They look at me as I look at the bank note and see the Queen’s face staring back at me.  

“Struth, no worries mate” and take back $10 Australian.  I look in my wallet.  No euros.  All Aussie $.  My humiliation is complete as I am forced to wait my turn to pay by credit card.

It could have been worse.  The toilet facilities on German motorways require 70 euro cents in order to spend a pfennig.  Fortunately I have enough of the appropriate coins to accommodate Anniemay’s comfort breaks.

After about a 5 hour drive we’re finally able to relax in our hotel. It’s quite old as you can see.