Black Forest tunnel blues - perhaps we should purchase a cuckoo clock and other such gibberish

At first, I hadn’t yet clued in that something was not quite right.  Nestled cosily in my seat, alternating between napping and absentmindedly staring out the window, I wondered if the next stop would finally be ours.  Stuttgart should be coming up soon, either the next station or the one after, as we’ve now been sequestered on the train for well over 2 hours and cabin fever was starting to set on in.  Racking my brain, I struggled to recall the exact words that the heavily accented German lad at the Departures Kiosk had meticulously spelled out, but no such luck, as I hadn’t been paying much attention to anything that he was saying.  I was more engrossed in admiring the eye-catching multi-hued satchel that the elegantly garbed French woman was clutching, mentally calculating just how many Euros such a magnificent possession would set me back.  That, and also trying to oh so discretely not gawk at her jaw-dropping midnight blue back-pack, which from far away, looked like a tiger crawling up her back.  Must be FENDI, I reasoned, as the cat theme was all the rage and must have been acquired either in Milan or at a Parisian haute couture event.  Would it be rude to just tap her on the shoulder and say “Excusez-moi, Madame, but would you be kind enough to tell me how much you paid and would you possibly consider selling your exquisite one of a kind bags to me for a cheap price?  My budget is a tad low but perhaps we could make a trade and I’ll swap you for my ratty old Longchamps?”  On second thought, might as well hold my head up high (even though my rigid non-rubber neck was tilted at an uncomfortable 45-degree angle), bug-eyes firmly fixated on Fashion Lady’s coveted baggage, and try and preserve whatever dignity I had left and just continue to ogle and salivate.

“Hey, come on, hurry on up, will you?” Travel Bud bellowed.  “We’re going to miss the train if we don’t get going now”. 

Like, really, you are so incredibly annoying.  Who cares about the train when there are more important issues at hand - handbags, that is. I pondered whether I would have enough time to sprint over to the satchel shop just around the corner in the hope of snagging a replica of the exotic treasure Miss Fashion Statement herself was sporting.  But alas, no such luck, for we still had to hustle to the far end of the station and schlepp suitcases up mountains of stairs to get to Track #01.  But, then, Eureka! Travel Bud mumbled something about the train being delayed and that it would pull into the station a few minutes late.

Bingo!  Music to my ears!  The train is a tad behind schedule and those extra few minutes would give me ample time to dash over to the leather goods outlet and shop, grab and go.

Rolled eyes.  Exasperated sighs.  Wails and cries.  Travel Bud knew that it would be pointless to argue as it would just be best to agree with the handbag-obsessed shopaholic and let her scamper to the shop and be done with it.  

“Okay, you have exactly three minutes and you better be quick!  And, I’m warning you, if you’re late, I’m getting on the train without you!”

A mere two minutes and forty-three seconds later, seasoned shopper (Acquisitions Expert, if truth be told) that I am, was 40 Euros poorer and the proud owner of a faux crocodile merlot satchel that was a steal of a deal at 70% off, a treasure rescued from the clearance bin.  And, to boot, my pink-sneaker clad feet high-tailed it to Track #04 in record time!  And onto the caboose I scrambled, huffing and puffing, bags a flailing, pleased as punch at my Olympic medal worthy luggage tossing skills.

“I think that we’re going in the wrong direction”.

To say that Travel Bud appeared to be out of sorts was an understatement.  Usually calm, cool and collected, my pal Oz was a tad on edge.  Muttering incomprehensible gibberish, all that I could make out was “lost, going east, tunnels, Alps, Black Forest, Vienna”.  Yikes!  Did I just hear what was a reference to those dreaded tunnels?  Before leaving on my overseas vacation, I had spent countless hours researching train routes from northern Germany to the southern border, just to make certain that the journey involved as few tunnels as possible.  I have no issue veering miles off the beaten path and I will do whatever it takes to avoid those confining tubes but the route that we were currently on seemed to be dotted with an endless parade of tunnels – and, to make matters even worse, I could feel the walls slowly closing in on me, trapping me in their underground lair – with the postcard perfect view of lush evergreens and snow-capped mountains disappearing into an endless black hole with no light in sight…

Gulp!

And all that I could hear was Travel Bud chirp: “Looks like we’re on our way through the Black Forest.  Guess we’ll have to buy a cuckoo clock”.

Seriously?

Who needs a cuckoo clock when you’re stuck on the choo choo with the cuckoo?

The journey continues….

Next post!  In a few days!  Believe it or not, I’m back on track and will finally post the sequel to this tale the weekend of Jan 13th/14th.  The never-ending story of veering off track en route to Stuttgart - and, yes, we do eventually get there!!

And, since it is my first post of 2018, I would like to wish all of you, my dear readers, a very Happy New Year and thanks so much for trekking along with me as I meander and stumble along road-blocked paths towards my next destination.

And, what is old is new again - Seems like my ongoing technical issues have followed me into the New Year - so, guess what?  No pictures!!  Is it me or is it Blogger?  Hope to have this hitch of a glitch figured out very, very, very soon.







2 Response to "Black Forest tunnel blues - perhaps we should purchase a cuckoo clock and other such gibberish"

  1. Unknown says:
    2 January 2018 at 06:35

    Happy New Year! LOVE the pink typewriter, so please, keep on writing! Sandra

  2. Nora K says:
    2 January 2018 at 20:50

    Thank you so much for your kind words and for following my crazy ol' adventures around the globe. And my recent acquisition of my beloved vintage pink typewriter just makes blogging so much more fun!

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