It came Bounding out of the Sky

It might have been a wild mountain goat, it might have been a curly horned ram or possibly a small deer with the antlers of an elk.  Whatever it was, it was real and mythic and nearly knocked Theo N. off the trail at 10,000 feet high.  Theo was one of 12 who biked from Salzburg to the base of Untersberg Mountain. They followed the river, cut over through farm lands to the canal, and then ended up on the highway before exiting at Grodig.  From there they took the Gondola to the foggy, hazy top.  Michelle C., Christine D., Devon D., Emily R., Chelsea T., and Katie U. lead the way up, but the boys, following, started the antics.  David S., regressed to playing Golum and nearly hopped off the mountain.  Michael A. grabbed a silver tin saucer and tobagganed down a glacier tumbling off just above the crevice.  Both are caught on camera video.  Another video showed three bright yellow-billed ravens following Barry K. where ever he went.  The video shows him pointing and instructing the birds to stop mimicking.  They wouldn't hear it. Mickey B., Alec D., Gary I., Cameron K., and Jordan R. followed a path that said Verboten and ended up at the highest, coldest, foggiest point beneath a giant cross of Jesus that nearly converted all of them (just kidding Marcie and Julie.)  But the highlight was not caught on video.  It was the surprise attack by the goat-deer.  All reports contradict.  But I believe them all.

We have made it to Lucerne, Switzerland.  Not only is this the most beautiful city in the whole world, but there usually is absolutely nothing to do here.  And that's fine by me.  I ditched the group at The Saddest Lion in the World.  Cameron K. and Drew H. were here, what, five years ago, and they are absolutely giddy leading the group to this Lion carved in the rock ala Mount Rushmore.  However, I joke not when I marvel at the beauty here.  A city on a glistening lake. Modern and historic Swiss architecture nestle comfortably side by side.  This is an extremely progress city of artisans and businesses.   Every shop window is perfectly rendered and each cafe has its Karim Rashid or Phillippe Starck furniture so plastic and colorful that you wonder when the future will arrive in the USA.  I'm sitting on a Charles Eames reproduction chair at my Kappel-Bridge-view cafe and I feel my quality of life, mostly my butt, improving by the minute.  If only the Swiss knew how to brew beer. 

Coach Hall is exchanging money now, and we're meeting for dinner together at 6:30.  There is a yodelling festival going on--no lie, and tonight they are attempting to break the world's record for the most singers singing a song.  50,000 choir members from all over Europe will sing something at 8 O'clock.  I hope it's not "We are the World." They are all dressed up like barbershop-quartets-from-The-Alps.  Disney could not exaggerate any better the ethnic stereoptype.  Well, maybe a Saint Bernard with a jug under it's neck would do it.  No wonder we could not get a hotel in Lucerne this year.  We are staying 40 minutes away in Ingelberg, I think.  I hope we can convince our fearless leader to stay for the historic vocal performance. Afterall, we have world class choir members on this trip--Melissa L. and Siobhan S. --who sang at graduation--and Emily R. and Neil S.  I think I can sing baritone if Neil can do the bassline. I think we should stay.

I probably won't let you know what happened.  I don't anticipate posting for the next three days as we will be in Zermat, and while there are internet connections, it is too expensive.  Hope you all get phone calls.  The trip is going better than ever.  Your kids are great.  Barb, I can't get any connection to email here, for some reason, so I hope you at least read this.  Say hi to Louis, Jake, Nora, and Maddy.  Nora, you're gonna love this trip next year.  Let's start saving now.

Wryly but sort of truly,

LV

P.S.  I often have to send these out as my cafe time limit is expiring.  Sorry about the lack of proofreading in the last entry.  The spelling, the spelling, the horror, the horror.