Following a traditional Rhenish breakfast of goats udders served in a bowl of pig water, we leave for the last leg of our Herculean perambulation. I believe my "companions" have let their sanitary standards drop since the start of this walk; we are constantly followed by hordes of insects and buzzards are constantly hovering overhead, waiting to pick off the weaker members of our group. I am forced to give frequent rousing talks of the Anzac spirit to inspire the stragglers.
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| Translated: This dog is best served at breakfast with many potato dumplings |
Eventually we crawl in on all fours to the Deutsches Eck-the confluence of the Rhine and Mosel rivers, a bedraggled and sorry lot.
We now realise we have the most difficult part of our journey to complete:the rebuilding of our haggard and malnourished bodies, trying to return them to their former god-like magnificence. Unfortunately for some of us this may prove to be an impossible task but we will all give it a red hot go. Those familiar with the cuisine of the fatherland will understand that calories are not plentiful!
Eventually we crawl in on all fours to the Deutsches Eck-the confluence of the Rhine and Mosel rivers, a bedraggled and sorry lot.
We now realise we have the most difficult part of our journey to complete:the rebuilding of our haggard and malnourished bodies, trying to return them to their former god-like magnificence. Unfortunately for some of us this may prove to be an impossible task but we will all give it a red hot go. Those familiar with the cuisine of the fatherland will understand that calories are not plentiful!
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