The first week with Grandma and Grandpa was mostly about becoming Limburger Dutch, something that's not too difficult to do. In no time at all they were biking around with Ellie and me, navigating bike lanes and our own bike traffic lights, cheese sampling, drinking fabulous coffee, eating ubiquitous apple tarts, munching on chocolate, running to the bakery for fresh bread daily and having a glass of wine once evening rolled around. Dad predictably sought after the apple treats and waffles sold on the street. Mom favored the bread and wine. After getting that routine down, we decided to vacation a bit. We had a great next weekend in Germany boating on the Rhine, climbing through castles, touring the medieval city of Rothenberg. We started in Rothenberg, in the center of Germany, one of the few medieval cities left standing after WWII. (Apparently the commander of the U.S. forces in the area had a cuckoo clock in his childhood home that said "Made in Rothenberg, Germany", so it was spared the bombing that most cities received.) Again, fall in this part of Europe is spectacular. Ellie was her adventuresome self, traveling with her potty chair always on call and ready to explore gardens and old walls and ruins. Traveling was also made far easier by Grandpa Bobby always ready to read a book or play a game. We toured the museum of medieval justice, which would be more aptly called the gruesome torture museum--I was already fighting a nasty bug, but that was a stomach turning experience. We ate cozy German food and had a sampling of German beer, once served coincidentally by a woman whose father is a Minnesotan and works at my dad's favorite shopping destination, the super-sized Cabellas in Owatonna. We strolled the city and gawked at the tourists gawking at the sights (notice how people open their mouths when staring? why is that? do i do that too?) before heading up the Romantic Road to the Rhine.
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