More Germans, then tents


Alpenhorn
This morning the sun came up at five, so that was when the family got up and went out for the day. We walked around Leavenworth, along the waterfront path and thus to Starbucks, which, disappointingly, despite the Bavarian decor outside, had no special German food on the menu, not even a Blackforest Gateau Latte or something similarly disgusting. We walked back to the hotel, with me sneezing constantly, and then had breakfast. I’d been waiting for this, and not just because I was hungry.

An alpenhorn is played at breakfast, by a man in full Bavarian regalia; lederhosen, shin socks, hat, the works. He does so while standing on the parapet of the balcony, so apparently risking his life for alpenhorning. He didn’t disappoint: our daughter was fascinated by the enormous horn, its opening larger than her head. Following the death defying balcony recital, he came indoors and began pushing the alpenhorn around the room while playing it, like some strange piece of performance art. I ate an omelette and went back to my room.

We swam in the basement pool: La Serpiente Negra was a confident swimmer today, despite her two weeks off. Then we loaded up the car and headed off to Wenatchee for a wedding, via a twenty mile loop around Leavenworth when the GPS guided us incorrectly.

The wedding, at the top of a hill, was beautiful; afterwards, we drove to a campsite and spent half an hour looking for our friends before finding them, and then putting up our tent. Modern geodesic tents are a wonder of the world; a few poles here and there and you suddenly have something to live in. (That was also how we built houses in the UK near the start of this century, but with Poles, not poles.) It’s very noisy though because of the wind blowing through the campsite; I’m hoping, though I’m unconvinced, that we’ll sleep tonight. At least our sleeping bags are warm…


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