Hitching in, ah, so effortless now, just like riding a bike, except without any effort or financial investment, our 130 kilograms a payment we would never foot. Our second lift, connecting us with the city dropping us at the beautifully placid green river, was by a young man who looked like he had stepped out of a Michelangelo fresco, gold locks and blue eyes and the surity of a celestial destiny in his deportment. What´s more he had the improbable profession of a truck driver. Don´t confuse me, but looking at people like him makes me want to have sex with women all the more (although he probably do very well instead!), the transferrability of eroticism.
Stood either side of our drop-point the houses ranged among the arboreal landscape like original licquorice allsort constructions, rhthmic 3-story variations in brown, cream and black, the rich green hills peaking above them as the gardened town changed to forest.
Down the main street, Rachel, Joellie (Rachel´s sister) and I walked among the leisurely bustle, and off the strasse little squares and fountains with dramatic centre-piece sculptures crafted in warm brown stone and adorned with gold. Meeting with her family and extended family, we walked up to the Schlosse (castle), and our view out to the west was stopped short of infinity by a line of dark hills, wetting our appetite for the immense journey we were to embark on tomorrow, hitching to Croatia, a 1000km trip. Homemade pizza from Miriam, and David´s joke that I should pass the "Juice" which sounded a lot like "Jews" revived a few stock second world war jokes and this ritual out of the way, we returned to the present with renewed vigour and a very pleasant evening was had by all. Bed came quickly after hitching back in the dark and I slept long into the morning, the days travelling needing a little pay back. A boring entry, but it was a lot better than I have written, tomorrow was to be exciting enough to rouse even a tired writer and accounts for my current failureto write this well!