CRETE ON THE MOVE

By Anita Everett

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• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Apr 18, 2023
• ISBN: 9781669874096

Anita Everett

The author was born in Comox, British Columbia; raised in Powell River; and now lives in Abbotsford. Anita has always written, beginning with children’s stories when she was a teenager and eventually hosting a personal column for a number of years with the Powell River News. In 2008 Anita was injured in a horrific traffic accident in the jungles of Belize; nearing the end of her almost two year hospitalization, Anita picked up her pen once again. Long divorced with two children, she had remarried and traveled extensively through Mexico, USA, Japan, Malaysia, Cambodia, and Europe. On a cherished month-plus on Crete, she was able to indulge her lifelong passion in history. She was widowed shortly after then later traveled back to Italy and fulfilled a long-held desire to visit Egypt. A lover of piano and opera, Anita also enjoyed many years with her string bass in a school then community band and continues to enjoy her piano. She has done many things, from being a grocery store clerking to a model and to a night guard at the local lockup to telecommunications representative, but writing remains a constant hobby. The author will sometimes use “big” words in the belief that children need to be exposed to a better usage of English. She carefully researches her stories and attempts to also educate about animals in her writings. Although her stories are all about animals, Anita has owned only two cats in her life, Snowy and DC, both of whom died unnatural deaths. The love and empathy she felt for both pets colour her writing today.

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Copyright © 2023 by Anita Everett.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 04/18/2023

Xlibris

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CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Gallery

"

Dedicated in memory to Ed and Laura

Everett and Ted; missing you."

CHAPTER 1

Marci’s mind flashed back to their flight out of Vancouver … two hours into the trip and the lights went out. There was a collective gasp from the three hundred plus passengers, then an ominous quiet. Who’s afraid of the dark? Perhaps not that many but when it happens on an airplane thirty-five thousand feet above the earth it is definitely disconcerting.

Marci’s book had slipped from her fingers and she glanced across the aisle at Dave, still sprawled along two seats snoring gently - for him – in peaceful slumber.

Sure wish I could sleep on a ‘plane she thought. I have even tried sleeping pills, nothing works. Scotch and a good book helps to while away the time but I really hate these trans-Atlantic trips. Sure would prefer to cruise, at least you can walk around but it costs a heap more.

A short moment later stews began to come down the aisles with flashlights and comforting words. The captain says there is a small computer problem which should be fixed in a few moments. We will serve dinner as soon as the lights are back. Everything is fine.

Well, not really, thought Marci. If there is one computer problem what might the next one be? Just as bad, I cannot read. This could be a very long trip.

The lights flickered, died, then glowed with dim illumination. Hopeful murmurs filled the cabin as relief imbued some of the passengers who had felt the first stirrings of panic.

She sighed and resigned herself to a long trip indeed.

The lights went out again. This time small screams pierced the quiet and Marci heard the woman behind her being sick. Weathered flyer or no, Marci’s stomach tightened and in spite of the stew’s repeated words of not to fear her mind began to imagine all sorts of frightful scenarios.

I’ve watched too many ‘May Day’ programs she thought as she listened to the steady hum of the motors but looking out the window, was comforted to see no sign of fire.

The captain’s deep voice issued from the inter-com, Sorry for the inconvenience, folks. We have a small computer glitch, nothing serious but we are not able to restore the lighting. We apologize for this inconvenience; I know it makes a long flight for many of you. Your cabin crew will do all they can to make this situation as comfortable as possible. Again, our apologies.

The dulcet tones were lovely to listen to but worry nagged Marci; really, what else would stop working on the intricate, high-tech computer which held their lives in its sophisticated grasp? Ah, well, she thought they are professionals up front and want to reach terra firma as much as their passengers do.

The stews clicked on the mike to announce that they were unable to serve a hot meal.

Great, thought Marci, Not only can I not read; now I have to starve as well. Hopefully they can still maneuver the drink cart. I’m definitely cruising next time.

Once more she glanced over at Dave, a divorcee, long-time friend, house-mate and travelling companion, still blissfully unaware of any change in their situation. He could sleep though a volcanic eruption, Marci opined.

She thought back to the kind and generous send off they had enjoyed with close friends and family at a Chinese restaurant in Vancouver; a happy occasion as she and Dave began the first leg of their trip to Europe and Crete. She remembered the long lineup at the airport check in; they were three hours early but still the ropes and stanchions that curved and circled to shape the line of incoming passengers as they queued for check-in were filled. Marci had scoffed at the airline’s request to come two hours early but looking at all the waiting passengers, she was glad they had arrived even earlier than that.

She gently reclined her seat, after a glance behind to see what the passengers seated there were doing but was happy to see them both sleeping. She looked around the dark cabin and could see little but envisioned the huge aircraft burdened with its four hundred crew and passengers and marveled again at the seeming impossibility that anything could actually climb into the sky bearing this mighty weight. All the bodies, their luggage, the weight of the craft and crew … wow, what an age we live in … ; to think my mother can remember the first domestic flight and now here we are, flying these behemoths through the skies. Now we have walked on the moon and are reaching for other planets but I will surely not see that in my lifetime, she mused.

A wing span of 141 feet; they look so vast. She recalled the information on the aircraft in the seat’s pocket she had read at the beginning of the flight and felt again the awe of her first sight down the forever seeming aisle of the huge aircraft. I wonder if one day flying like this will be outmoded and we will be flashed from one place to another in the blink of an eye or transported like in ‘Star Trek’?

Marci reflected back and back … to her life-long desire to travel coupled with her feverent desire to visit in depth the countries which knew the Roman and Grecian empires. Her voluminous reading of these two subjects in particular had incurred a feverent longing to visit the areas where they had ruled; to view on site and in museums their accomplishments that spanned centuries; to glimpse all facets of their existence – martial power, their art and architecture to the nuances of citizens daily lives of need, class, style of dress, adornment and religion. She thought of Caesar’s astoundingly handsome visage, his mental prowess, roman cruelty then pictured the wonderful sculpture of the Bee Pendant found on Crete - all held equal fascination or her.

Given an early marriage, no university education and two children her working years were profitable enough to support the needs of a single mother and a growing family but not conducive to allowing time nor money for any globe-trotting adventures,. But the children were now in careers and lives of their own and an early retirement from a stable, long term employment gave her the time and the funds, more or less, to finally indulge in some travelling … but with the help of her roommate, Dave, who harbored the same aspirations but lacked a travelling companion. He was very good at planning long trips and knowing Marci’s interest he had arranged a four month tour of Europe and to Marci’s delight, two whole months on Crete then three weeks on the Peloponnese. Leaving in September they would enjoy the last weeks of summer in Crete but then the winter on the Peloponnese and into Europe; both were unwavering in their desire to avoid hordes of tourists and when better to do so than during the winter off season? Given the cheaper rates also at that season it was a win-win situation especially in Marci’s eyes.

Dave was also a divorcee with older children and was now a grandfather; he was lately retired from a manager’s position with a large trucking firm. When Marci met him he was in the throes of a dying long term relationship which was causing him great distress. They developed a friendship and in the interest of cost saving and convenience decided to share a house on the condition, as Marci made very clear, the relationship would remain platonic. She had lost all interest in any romantic liaison, probably forever, and if Dave was not comfortable with that, then the deal was off.

He, however, being an affable type and currently a lonely fellow, agreed. The house was a two story town house with one bedroom on each floor so it was a perfect setup. Dave liked to cook and Marci was more than happy to give him free rein in the kitchen. They each had their own set of friends but that changed over time as some one-time co-workers dropped away and the remaining ones blended into a conjoined group.

Less than year later they decided the time had come to embark on their extended trip of a life-time, not wait for another two years or so when their bank accounts might look more robust but now they were both in good health, had decent pensions and it was time to go.

Dave spent a week on the ‘phone with the same agent who had done a good job organizing his previous trip to Europe with the ex-girlfriend. It was still a frustrating experience but the day came when all was in order and it was time to pack their suitcases.

Marci shook her head as she broke her reverie in response to a sudden drop in the plane’s altitude – an air pocket, I hope she murmmed. She scanned the tv screen set into the back of the seat in front of her to note the plane‘s progress and saw that they were nearing their destination. The darkness in the cabin was beginning to recede as they flew through the breaking dawn over Germany. Marci glanced across the aisle to view her still sleeping companion.

"Well, he should be rested, at least; he has slept almost the entire trip. Oh, I am creaky!’ she said aloud as she stretched then rose to go to the bathroom, a welcome walk down the long corridor to the rear of the plane.

But eventually the forever-seeming flight came to an end and they landed at Frankfurt in the early morning. They found their way to the car rental agency and discovered that indeed their reservation, made from Canada, had been processed and they were soon on their way in a mid-sized Renault. They drove away from the huge airport and negotiated streets that finally left the bustling city and led them onto the Autobahn. Although tired from the long flight and the stress of getting through Frankfurt it was still early in the day and they wanted to be on their way rather than stop too early to sleep and delay their acclimatizing to the time change. Too soon they came across construction and a detour but Dave negotiated well having driven the road once before; he had a good idea of where they were and where they were going.

"Does this bring back memories?’’ Marci asked as they drove. She was referring to the ten year relationship Dave had previously shared with a woman, Lynette. They had travelled throughout Europe and Dave had taken their breakup badly.

Yeah, it does, but that’s all in the past now, Marci. I have you and this is our time.

Marci was touched by his words but a bit unsettled too. She was Dave’s friend, not his lover, but waved such concerns away for the moment and decided to just enjoy the ride.

In a way this trip was an unspoken good bye to further extensive travel or perhaps to life itself. Dave had been diagnosed with colon cancer some months ago and had undergone surgery to remove part of his bowel. The doctors said they had got it all but Marci was of the mind that once cancer invaded a body it did not really go away. It may go into remission and even fool everyone that it was over with, but Marci never believed that it was so.

Sooner or later, it will get you she believed. But Dave was confident that his disease was an issue of the past and Marci would not think of disturbing that belief. Certainly, he looked well, had his full complement of abundant energy and was in excellent spirits.

Their car had a stiff gearshift and Dave occasionally swore a few epithets as they geared down for exits and corners. Traffic was light and the drivers sensible – no speeders or tail gaters as they so often encountered in Canada.

But what seemed like long hours later It’s really time, Dave. I’m starved! And I need a stretch as you should, too. You have been driving for ages.

Well, it is still pretty early, only four o’clock, Marci; do you think you can hold out for another hour? Weizburg’s not far ahead. We’ll stop there for the night. We need to be on a normal schedule as soon as possible. Oh, damn, another detour! There sure is a lot of road construction going on. That’s the third one we’ve hit.

Sure, I’ll live.

Marci’s stomach rumbled and her patience level was on empty when the little ways turned into a 2 ½ detour back to the Autobahn or the Romantic Road as Dave said it was more familiarly known.

Romantic road, my ass complained Marci. I am hungry beyond words and if we don’t reach Weisberg in the next five minutes we are stopping right here at that roadside drive-in just across the highway!

The light rain which had begun a few hours ago had progressed to a serious downpour. The wipers thunked- thunked across their vision; Marci felt chilled and searched for the heater knob as she yawned and remarked it would be an early bedtime tonight. If I survive until then, that is. I am so hungry I could eat a cow all by myself.

At last the small town appeared and Dave drove to the Post Hotel where they booked into one room with two beds. At one hundred and seventy-five dollars a night I might just be able to be in the same room with you, Dave, but if you snore, you will be sleeping in the car! Marci exclaimed as they hauled their luggage up a short flight of stairs.

Their room was large, clean and the beds with their puffy comforters looked inviting. They dropped their suitcases on the floor then Dave flung himself on the bed nearest the window and exclaimed I could sleep for two days.

Come on, Dave Marci remarked as she left the bathroom rubbing hand lotion onto her damp hands. We’ll unpack a few things later but first I just want dinner!

Oh, that smells so good! Marci remarked as they descended the short staircase to the dining room; soft music and the pungent scents of herbs and good things coupled with the warm tones of aged wood, shining silver and colourful tablecloths created an atmosphere that enfolded Marci like a mother’s arms. The dining room held only one other couple and the delectable aroma of soon-to-be dinner excited their hunger pangs even more. They took a window seat and as Marci stared at the rain streaming down the glass panes she remarked I hope it is nicer tomorrow. I know we have a long drive to Bavaria but I would really like to see some of the country in daylight, not through this freezing rain. You know by the time we get to bed we will have been on the go for twenty eight hours. I have always wanted to travel but the pace of flying and the misery of airports sure puts a damper on things. At least ships do not change schedules – well, not much – or cancel trips like airplanes do.

With their so-enjoyed dinner over the couple yawned their way back to their room, Marci unsteady on her feet as exhaustion took its toll.

Dave took the bathroom first … and moments later Marci heard cursing as he burst into the bedroom waving a smoking toothbrush in his hand.

This damn converter didn’t work! he howled. My toothbrush is ruined!

Oh, Dave, I am sorry. How the heck did that happen? The clerk assured me at home that this converter was the right one for Europe.

Well, she was wrong!

I have a couple of manual toothbrushes in my case I brought along for emergencies, Dave. I’ll get you one.

I hope we can make Schwangau okay tomorrow without all the detours we encountered today Marci later remarked. I think we have to go through Fusson first, though?" But Dave was already fast asleep; soft snuffles were beginning to emanate from across the room and Marci groaned in anticipation of a restless night.

Oh, Lordy she groaned Dave is a terrible snorer and that is just one more reason I like my own room even if it does add considerably to our costs.

And so it was. Dave slept soundly for ten hours but Marci was woken several times throughout the long night and finally gave up at 4:00 trying to sleep. There was a small veranda off the street side of their room so she gathered her book and a flashlight, threw a blanket over her shoulders and read for the next three hours as she watched the town awaken and the gloomy daylight begin with its promise of another rainy day.

Enough! Marci cried. She strode across the room and not so gently pulled the pillow from beneath Dave’s head and yelled "Awake, you lousey lout! I am starving and if I have to listen to one more snore I will commit murder!

Dave and Marci set out later that morning with Marci offering to drive but Dave would have none of it. He, the rested one, was in a mood which matched the sodden skies. The windshield wipers sloshed monotonously as they drove the miles to Fusson where they stopped for lunch.

So this is Bavaria. remarked Marci; Sure is a pretty town; hard to believe that this is where Hitler and the Nazis got their start. How sad that so much horror took place in this country during the Second World War. I wonder if Fusson was bombed very badly? More likely the towns near the Ruhr and Berlin were hit even worse.

Lunch over they walked to a nearby drugstore to buy Dave a new electric toothbrush. Marci browsed the store’s merchandise and exclaimed, Ye gods, Dave, these prices are out of this world! Is everything this expensive in Germany? I understand their wages are higher than ours but with prices like this they are no better off than we are!

In spite of the rain splashes of vibrant red geraniums coloured the window boxes which hung from many window sills and filled street planters; they were cheery notes in the dull weather. Citizens scurried by beneath a canopy of umbrellas and light traffic traversed the narrow street.

How about letting me drive a bit this afternoon, Dave? I get bored being a passenger all the time and you could use a break, right?

With rather poor grace, Dave agreed.

Marci was happy to slide into the driver’s seat and start the car’s engine … but that was the easy part. It took both hands to shift gears, the seat was too low and in the process of moving the seat back a bit she hit … something … and promptly fell back in a supine position.

Dammit swore Marci. What happened? And how the heck can you wrestle with that gearshift?

Smirking, Dave helped her put the seat upright, raise its level and suggested she just use a bit of patience with the gearshift.

You get used to it he commented.

Don’t look so smug, Dave. I know you don’t want me to drive but we are going to share this duty whether you like it or not so stop looking so self-satisfied.

Get used to it she did albeit with some blue air and a sore hand but the curvy highway to Schwangau was an interesting, if challenging drive. In spite of the heavy rainfall their hotel was a charming, so Germanic building with weathered shingles and rustic brown wood siding. The usual planters and flower boxes about the grounds and entryway were pretty and entirely satisfied Marci’s idea of what a Bavarian hotel should look like; not an ounce of Americanism in sight. They were happy to haul their heavy luggage into the warm foyer and speak with their affable host, a small man, not in local costume, but wearing clothes that could only be European. His bright eyes welcomed them and he asked about their trip as he helped tote their luggage up the one short flight of stairs and led them to their separate rooms.

Ah, sighed Marci as she flopped onto the fluffy futon. My own space at last! She rested a few moments then opened her luggage to remove some toiletries.

We are only here for the one night but will be back next month for Christmas and New Years. Should be fun to spend that special time here, in Europe, in Germany, where they really do Christmas, I am told. But tomorrow we tour Rohenschwangau - or as it is commonly known – mad King Lud’s castle and am I ever looking forward to that! Coming into town I saw it high up on peak on the mountain; it looks fabulous, like a fairy tale mirage in the clouds. Reminds me of a picture I saw of the castle in Disneyland; surely this castle is the model for Disney’s rendition. That tour is first thing on the agenda tomorrow! But I have read where King Ludwig was not really mad; eccentric for sure but during his short rein he did some good things, too. He surely died a mysterious death, though, and much too young at only forty one years of age and the castle was not even finished. His best friend was Richard Wagner who composed the famous opera, ‘Der Ring’.

A sad tale, really.

She crossed the narrow hall to knock on Dave’s door. Are you ready for dinner? she inquired as he opened in response to her rap rap.

For sure: I could eat an ox!

Dave, I don’t know how you do it, but you eat like a horse – and often all the wrong things - yet manage to stay relatively slim. A great talent; too bad you can’t sell it. Half the world’s female population would beat a path to your door.

The next morning again dawned damp and chilly but Marci was so exhilarated to be touring the magical castle that the cheerless weather had little effect upon her mood. They left the car in the parking lot and took a horse and buggy to the castle where they had booked a tour. But the tour went too fast so Marci went through the German, French and Japanese groups in order to take her time and really look at the amazing art work, frescos, carved ceilings … such beauty and opulence!

The castle was everything she expected it to be. Truly a dream in the sky; tier after tier of tall rooms filled with wonderful paintings, sculptures and rich fabrics. No wonder Ludwig bankrupted Bavaria building this place thought Marci. King Lud’s bed was ludicrously high draped in silken folds; colours and fabrics and tassels of finest design and artistry by the most famous artists and craftsmen of the day curtained around the - to Marci’s mind - too narrow bed. The ceilings were high and in themselves an ornate display of clever workmanship and fabulous paintings; tiled floors of stunning patterns and colours were a marvel of imagination and design. Fabrics and colours of every quality and hue displayed their luxury.

Ludwig built this castle with pleasure in mind and how well he succeeded in pleasing the eye and every sensibility Marci remarked a little breathlessly.

Dinner at their hotel that evening was, in spite of Marci’s joy of the day, a desultory affair. Dave was tired and cranky. They had spent the afternoon walking about the small town in spite of intermittent rain showers and freezing temperatures and had also visited Ludwig’s parent’s castle. They had gazed down upon the quaint, colourful village spread along the valley floor below for the castle was high on a hill. They enjoyed the old world culture, the architecture and cobbled streets of the beautiful little village.

"You know, Dave, Ludwig grew up with Germanic history, with opulence and wealth all around him. No wonder he was so imbued with the majesty and grandeur of Germanic myths and warriors from the past. No wonder the power of Wagner’s Die Meistersinger or The Ring as it was known, a series of four operas which lasted for many hours, immerse him in that imaginative reality. Especially Die Valkyrie touched Ludwig for he identified with the Swan knight’s tragic loneliness and death in Lohengrin. Did you notice how often the swan motif and figures occurred throughout the castle? Did you see the large swan sculpture above his bed? So graceful and beautiful.

Back in town they went shopping for a new toothbrush for Dave and Marci continued to be astounded at the high cost of everything so purchased nothing but all was not lost when Dave found the necessary item. But his continuing state of near exhaustion did not make him a happy companion.

They had chatted with a local couple during a late lunch; Marci and Dave had no German but the couple had a smattering of English so a conversation was possible. Marci was pleased to find them affable but she sensed a coolness … a distance … in spite of warm smiles and friendly manner.

Is it just me, Dave, or do you sense a certain … I don’t know … apartness … a touch of arrogance?. … in the German people? I cannot help but wonder if even today, seventy years after the war and the horror of Hitler’s era, if they feel a reluctant guilt … or … still feel some anger over losing the war or again, being reminded everywhere they turn of what their people did during those long and incomprehensible years and must even today stand in judgment for that time. It is a horrible history to live with and we tell ourselves it must not, cannot, happen again but I wonder … The Germans have always thought of themselves as the master race, from the time of early man they have been dominant; always a clever, brave people but just a cut above everyone else.

Or is the attitude I sense just that of the more sophisticated European that is different from our western culture? Perhaps a blend of it all … I suspect that given free rein it can happen again in this country, although Germany is certainly not the first society to practice genocide. It just did it better than anyone else.

Oh well, I am musing and am probably wrong in what I feel … or am I simply too sensitive to what I have read about what happened here? People are the same the world over but I suspect Germany still thinks of itself as superior to all other peoples. They have long broken the terms of what they agreed to after the war such as a limited army, etc. I believe that today they have one of the largest, best equipped armies in the world.

Marci noted Dave’s drawn face and its tired lines. I suppose he is not in love with castles like I am and I kept him too long in the castle this morning she thought. And I suspect the weather is getting him down. Oh well, we leave for Austria and Italy tomorrow; perhaps the drive and new scenery will cheer him up.

CHAPTER 2

The morning showed some lifting of gray clouds and the heavy rain of yesterday had dwindled to a spattering of showers. Dave and Marci said a cheery goodbye to their host and verified their reservations for the Christmas week. Dave’s touchy mood of the previous evening had given way to a much improved outlook for their drive to Italy and their departure from Venice for Greece.

I am so excited to see Italy, Dave remarked Marci as she drove onto the highway. To think I will actually be in Rome; to see the Coliseum; the plazas; the Palatine –even though I know we are just driving through this time - and the wonders of Venice … It takes my breath away. And then to sail for Greece … This is truly a dream come true! The one week our university group had in Rome and Greece – three days, actually - last year was marvelous and I got to visit the Acropolis but it was a flurry of flights, ferries, exhaustion and no serious time anywhere. I have read about the history of the Romans and Greeks all of my life so the two weeks we will have in Italy and Florence on our way home will be an absolutely incredible experience! Then to have three weeks including Christmas in Germany and a short visit to Switzerland is a trip to Wonderland and I am so grateful that we can do this! It is nice that you have driven Europe before; you have a pretty good idea of where we are going. You must have had some wonderful times with Janis in your ten years together; a shame that you could not make it work.

Yeah, I was pretty broken up at the time when she called it quits; turned out her rich husband had more pull that I did and she went back to him after that long separation. I had really wanted to marry her but she kept putting me off … Guess I was some kind of sucker but I know that she did care for me. Certainly I loved her but I guess it was just not to be. Now, if I could only persuade you …

Come on, Dave; we have been through this before. You are my friend and thus it will ever be. I am single and loving it.

Well, I live in hope … but in the meantime I am just happy to see you happy, Marci. I know how you love archaeology. I have been to Italy and most of Europe more than once but never to Greece so it will be a change of pace for me, too.

Gee, Dave, you never know … I might meet some handsome Greek God and fall in love!

Not on my time, you won’t was her friend’s laconic reply. Heavy traffic plagued the long drive to Austria. As they traversed the high Brenner Pass through the Austrian Alps Dave pointed to the famous mountain peaks on their right hand side.

That’s it? exclaimed Marci. I have heard so much about these mountains – mostly seen pictures of people skiing the steep slopes but really, that’s it? I see mountains as impressive as that every day at home!"

Yeah, that’s true Dave agreed. But it was a scenic drive. They passed the mountain side city of Innsbruck; it flowed over the steep hillside and dotted the thick forest with clusters of white houses and criss-cross road patterns.

That place sort of looks like it has been daubed on the mountain with a swishing finger dipped in poster colour said Marci.

A swishing finger? queried Dave.

Yeah, well, you know what I mean.

As they passed into Italy the sun appeared and road construction once again reared its unwanted head.

"This area used to be Austria but after the Second World War it was given to Italy and called Tyrol. Look at the farms on the mountain slopes; they are farms in the growing season but in winter they become ski runs. Some put up chair lifts, like that farm over there.

Beautiful! Those canny Austrians, eh; never miss a bet to make a buck. But good on them; why not use their land like that? Gorgeous mountains and it must be wonderful skiing on those steep slopes but I would not want to have to hike back up!

I can’t believe these speeds! Marci exclaimed as their speedometer steadied at one hundred and twenty kmph. "And driver after driver is passing us! It is amazing that people aren’t killed left, right and centre. But on the whole, I think drivers here are whole lot better than in Canada; they can be aggressive but the attitude is different. So many of our drivers think ‘Me first. I am more important’ or ‘My time is more important than yours’. Just really rude. I think the Europeans drivers are more skilled, but then, they have had this free-for all speed way, the auto-bahn, since the Second World War,