Vienna, now this is the place I was aching to see. PJ is mad at me because I refused to go with her to taste “sacher torte”. To me, it seemed like the most obvious thing to do in Vienna. I couldn’t stop her from going on her own, though.
France, eventually. For a while, it seemed like we wouldn’t be able to make it. We spent more than three hours waiting for a ride at the Spanish – French border in Pyrenees. The scenery was cool, though. Finally, an old man in the rusty Seat took us on board. As if unaware of his vehicle condition, he drove like nuts so that we sat in silence with terror in our eyes. He couldn’t speak English anyway. However he took us all the way to Montpellier.