Mosel

We are currently in the Mosel region of Germany, and it is absolutely stunning.

We are staying at a wonderful small hotel called Russel's Landhaus St. Urban, and it is exactly what we were looking for: quiet, in the middle of trees, with a little pond at the back where we can sit and read, have tea or lunch and just relax.

The amazing thing was that yesterday, we spent the afternoon lounging at the hotel and then drove toward a small village for dinner; we had driven about 4 miles through woods, and came around a corner and suddenly there was this spectacular view of the valley, the Mosel River, two small villages and vineyards as far as the eye can see. It just seemed to appear out of nowhere.

These vineyards are wild; they are almost vertical in places, and the vines seem to cling to edges of rock. I can only imagine how difficult and dangerous the harvest must be.

The nice thing about this area is that where we are staying doesn't feel touristy at all: nothing is written in English, which can make reading a menu challenging, (though I was able to figure out that schwein was pork, because it sounds like swine), and everybody in the hotel and restaurants we have been to is speaking German.

For dinner I had the pork schnitzel with spaetzle and an absolutely delectable sauce made from Chanterelle mushrooms. It was probably one of the most delicious things I've eaten on this whole trip. Spaetzle is impossible to describe; it's kind of like a very firm egg pasta, and it is just delicious with the schnitzel. I can say this for Germany: they know how to Schnitzel.

The one dark cloud over the whole thing has been that Steve is still not fully recovered yet from his stomach bug or food poisoning, whichever it was. So he's exhausted and not really able to do much, and since I still (yes, still) can't drive a stick shift car, I am a bit stuck as well, and not able to be very helpful when he needs something.

A big thanks to my parents, who spoke to him on the phone for a while tonight, my dad giving doctorly advice along with my mother's motherly advice, and together they sang the praises of the jam sandwich and banana diet.

I also had a rather funny session of charades with the German woman at the pharmacy as we both did the "I don't speak your language" dance of poop gestures until we figured out that I needed the German equivalent of Kaopectate. I think it's going to catch on, that dance. It's going to be bigger than the Macarena. Trust me.