Day 2

Our second day was spent with Uncle Dave and Aunt Isobel - relatives of my sister-in-law, and they fed us. And fed us. And fed us. This was a brief hiatus on our journey to touch base with family - I have attached a pic in front of their fireplace of Russ, our trip mascot and some tea mugs and chocolate goodies that we stuffed our faces with. Meanwhile the nightly battles continue as Richard and Kerry and Carmen crank up the camper's central heating to counter the windows and hatches that I leave open to ensure fresh air at night, but that admittedly allow an arctic wind to blow through our movable house. It also caused a certain level of tension the next day. We were breezing happily along on the way to Church on Sunday morning, and heading along the highway, when a loud bang alerted us to the fact that I had forgotten to close the hatch and one of the windows. I rushed to the back of the van to close it and made progress on the second attempt (I was rudely tossed back into my seat the first time because I forgot that my seatbelt still buckled me in) and leaped up to close the hatch. Still somewhat annoyed by the antics of the possessive seatbelt, I leaped up and pulled the hatch closed, and it must be said, rather forcefully. One of the restraining brackets remained in my hand as I jumped back down and the hatch flew open again. The 100km wind wind generated by our highway speed howled through the van with utter abandon. Kerry spent the remainder of the trip holding onto the hatch for dear life and managed to secure the other open window with her foot. (You need a diagrammatical illustration to understand the geometrey of the situation, but suffice to say that I was impressed by the speed at which she moved and her flexibility. Needless to say, nobody was impressed with me. We have managed to secure the hatch for now with a bungie cord so so far so good. I am hoping that the bill will not be as painful as the blow to my ego.

One last thing I must just mention is the size of this van. When we rock up at the shopping centres, it never fits into a parking bay. Next week, we will be visiting the home of Porsche at Stutgart where they have a museum as well. Let's be honest: If you arrive in a rental car, well maybe you are a tourist on holiday and well, who knows - maybe you are a Porsche driver at home? Nobody is going to buy that if you rock up driving a winnebago like something out of Chevy Chase's family holiday. Here come the Griswalds! Hmmm, I better go check that the hooter doesn't play a tune... See you tomorrow.