Sporkenheim

Au revoir Belgium, and Guten Morgen Germany. When I say early start. I'm talking 0445. A self-inflicted additional hour earlier than needed to facilitate a run. Running with accumulative sleep deprivation is less than ideal. Still. 5km. Enough time to cool down and hack breakfast once again. I carefully pack a yogurt. Fresh Belgian roll. Turkey breast. Swiss cheese. Cucumber. If they didn't want me to make lunch, they'd not offer cold cuts I figure. Or freshly baked baguettes. Refer back to convict theme in prior posts.

Another day. Another country. Another spoon stolen for my yogurt cup to add to my growing collection. Who needs souvenirs when you have stolen silverware?

The autobahn is something else. 120km p/h. Never could this work in Australia. The Monash car park couldn't handle such speeds with our routine 40km zones whilst contractors pretend to work. I soon learn the exit signs, Ausfahrt, aren't instructional for myself, an Australian, to fart. I continue to respect my fellow passengers.

Much of the afternoon is spent cruising the river Rhine. Taking in the sights. The vineyards on hillsides so steep I wonder if they're harvested by mountain goats. The scenery is stunning.

We arrive in Frankfurt sometime around 1600. I attempt a second run for the day, and call it early. Fatigue is beginning to take its toll and I decide a few days rest is needed.

Not at all enough time here. Austria bound now. Verabschiedung Germany.Read more