Mrs. Happy and Mr. Helpful

We rented a car Munich, Germany.  We had flown in from Copenhagen and by the time we got to Munich it was dark.  We had made reservations at some obscure campground and tried to find our way there by using the map given to us by the car rental agency.  When I am King of the World, I will decree that all writing shall be in at least 16 point font.  These maps must be made 21-year-olds.  The next day I went out and purchased my first set of reading glasses.

Anyhow, the map given to us by the car rental agency was utterly useless because it was written in 0.5 font.  Unfortunately, the highway signs in the German countryside weren't written in much larger of a font.  We kept missing every turn because we couldn't read the sign until it was just too late to do anything about it.

It was then that I noticed a little button on the dashboard that said "GPS Navigation."  But no matter how nice or nasty I spoke to the little button, I couldn't cajole any navigation from it.

After circling Munich for about three hours, we found our campground either by divine intervention or sheer dumb luck.  The next morning in the light of the day we pulled out the users manual found out that before you push the "GPS Navigation" button that you need to push the "On" button.  We now had a car and the ability to use it without getting lost.  Yippee!

Three days later we got an e-mail informing us that the company in California could not ship the waterproof cast cover internationally.  Strike one.

After more research, we found the same product being sold by a company in the Netherlands who could ship it to us in Germany.  We tried to order it online so we wouldn't have to test our non-existent Dutch on the phone, but there was no order form online.  So, we called them on the phone only to find that they are a distributor, and don't do business with the public.  Strike two.

So we went to a pharmacy to ask them to please order one of these things.  Of course we couldn't go to ANY pharmacy, we had to go to one that did business with this specific distributor in the Netherlands.  Gratefully, the Dutch distributor gave us a name and address of a pharmacy, but it was 100 miles away.

Not to worry, though, because we had Mrs. Happy.

Mrs. Happy is the name we gave our on-board GPS navigation system.  Mrs. Happy cheerfully and encouragingly calls out instructions such as "turn left in 500 meters" or "at the roundabout, straight on!"  We have determined that for marital harmony, every couple should have two sinks in their master bathroom and an on-board GPS navigation system in their car.

And it isn't just me, the geek who can't brush his teeth without his handheld computer, who loves Mrs. Happy.  September, the family Luddite, admits Mrs. Happy is a useful addition to the family.  But I can tell September is a bit jealous, because she has noted that Mrs. Happy never is the "victim" of a "vigorous rebuke," even when Mrs. Happy makes mistakes.

Oh yes, Mrs. Happy does make mistakes.  The other day she had us happily motoring down a roadway when all of a sudden we noted that the roadway ahead was underwater.  Unfortunately, Mrs. Happy didn't know the Danube River had overflowed its banks and she insisted we just drive straight into the river, and did not like it when I turned the car around.  Mrs. Happy can be a bit vengeful when you don't do what she tells you, and may have you doing circles without you realizing it.

Back to the saga of the waterproof cast cover.  We made our way to the recommended pharmacy in some small obscure town and after drawing pictures and using our highly polished hand signals, we got them to order a waterproof cast cover for us.  It would come in about three days time.

So, we waited for it.

The day that cast cover came, of course the priority was to go swimming.  After making our way back to the pharmacy (we had gone off to visit The Black Forest) we asked Mrs. Happy to take us to the nearest swimming pool.

And she did.  We arrived, and we all stared  mournfully at a pool that had absolutely no water in it.  Strike three.

So, we asked Mrs. Happy to take us to the NEXT closest pool.  And she did.  It was closed as well.  Strike four.

By this time, we realized Mrs. Happy was trying to get even with us for not driving into the Danube River.  It was getting late, and in addition to wanting to go swimming with our new waterproof cast cover that we had to drive all over Europe to acquire, we also needed a place to stay for the night. So we went to the local tourist office to see if we could not only get a recommendation for a room, but also a recommendation for a pool/waterpark that actually had water in it.

We found both a waterpark and a gasthaus (guest house).  We decided to get settled into the gasthaus before going swimming.  That is when we found Mr. Helpful.

Mr. Helpful was our host at the gasthaus, and he didn't speak a word of English.  His gasthaus overlooked a valley of farmland made up of rolling green hills.  You could hear the tinkling of the cows' bells from across the valley.  Beyond the valley you could see the German Alps and beyond that, the Swiss Alps across the shores of Lake Constance.

Mr. Helpful was very friendly, and did not let our lack of German interfere in any way with his hospitality.  He showed us the view from each window.  It was absolutely beautiful.  He named each peak and landmark from each view and made sweeping hand gestures and talked a lot.  September used her one acquired word of German that she had picked up: "Super!" every time Mr. Helpful said anything.

Mr. Helpful pointed at the 6:00 position of his watch and pointed to a picture of the sun setting over Lake Constance.  He then made a sweeping motion like the setting sun.  We understood that he meant that the sun set at 6:00 pm and made a beautiful sunset over the lake.  To which September replied, "Super!"

But we soon found out that "The sun sets at 6:00" isn't what Mr. Helpful said at all.  As the hands of the clock reached 6:00 p.m. we started for the door to go to the (indoor) waterpark so we could take this newly-acquired waterproof cast cover for a spin.  Just as we passed through the door, Mr. Helpful showed up ready to take us on the 3-hour tour he had described to us just an hour previously, that drew such a enthusiastic "Super!" from September.

To make a long story short, we didn't go swimming and we saw the region the way only a local could show it.  Taken by itself, the tour was very worthwhile, and we were awed by the astounding hospitality shown to us by our host.  But it also wasn't in our plans for the evening.  Strike five.

Through it all, the kids were very gracious despite being deprived from going swimming, showing a maturity beyond their years.

And yes, the next morning we finally, FINALLY did go swimming, the waterproof cast cover being every bit as water-tight as advertised.

Hopefully, next time I write it will be about Katrina getting her cast off.  We feel like a moth circling a campfire as we circle about Switzerland waiting for the time when we can go in and retrieve our bikes.  We have tried to make the best of the situation, but confess to being weary.  The cast and the limitations it places on us has been as much fun as a 8 week long root canal.