Touring Europa I

We're back from a blissful two weeks in the great land of offline. I guess I peaked at the Blackberry a few times, but otherwise mail meant neat stack of unwritten postcards carried to beaches and trattorias and the only website we saw was the big spider's behind the tomato plants. More on the agrictultural adventures of Karl in a later post, since it's quite obvious that the lawn pictured here has nothing to do with agriculture and a lot with luxury and conspicuous consumption. Well, first stop (more a stopover) was Tessin, that Italian part of Switzerland where European billionaires go to hide from the real world. We got an early start. Karl's intensely into cars now, which must have something to do with the genetical programming of boys, since neither Fred nor I care much about motor vehicles other than using them as a means to get from A to B. Karl though wants to be involved in everything having to do with motoring, even his services as a squeegee and when we let him climb onto the drivers' seat we literally have to pry his fingers from the steering wheel, unless we want to wait until fatigue gets it's way after a few hours of whiggling and jumping. And then there's all the temptations of the road.

Genetic programming's definitely at work in the next photo - Haribo is the classic German candy company that makes all the gummy bears and candied licorice. They present their products on great big stands that emit clouds of candy aroma luring little kids into the business of finding the right tone to nudge their parents into a purchase. In German supermarkets Haribo candy is strategically placed next where the line for the cashier forms and marketing calls it "Quengelware" (literally "whining products"). We did rescue Karl from this evil consumer trap, albeit with brute force. Later that afternoon we arrived at La Locanda del Notaio near Lago di Como (where George Clooney makes his second home), which Fred found in our trusty travel guide published by the makers of Michelin tires. As usual they didn't disappoint. Oh the simple fun a boy can have in a multimillion Dollar landscape design carpeted with world championship sports lawn.



And of course a day on the dusty roads of Europe has to be finished with a nice, warm bath, preferrably in a Hugh Hefner sized bathtub that could fit about 300 rubber duckies (rough estimate).



To be continued (not quite as extravagantly as it started) . . .