Okay, I guess Soße Anglais mit Pudding Reis is a bit, er, unusual, even in a land of food weirdness, Max was certainly a bit dubious, not helped by Dad insisting on adding strawberry jam to his. It was closer to eight than seven when we finished consuming.

“We're going for a walk,” I announced to anyone interested as Max stacked the dishes.
“Don't be too long,” Dad suggested, “long day tomorrow.”
“Yes Dad,” I allowed with a roll of the eyes.

“Where're we going?” Max asked as I dragged him out the door.
“Where do you think, Bonn Bahnhof?”
“Erm.”
“Come on dummy.”

It's not far to the entrance of the exercise route and we were soon climbing the trail towards our favoured hidey hole.

“Quick!” Max instructed pulling me off the path and into the rows of vines.
“What..”
A hand was slapped across my mouth, “shush, she'll hear.”
“Who?” I whispered once I'd removed Max's hand.
“Frau Busybody.”
“Frau Holdorf?”
“The same, she's just coming down the path.”

Its not Frau Holdorf that's the problem of course, its her dog, Fritzy seems to have a thing for me.

“Fritzy! Come back here this instant!”

I had to stifle a laugh.

“Shsshh,” Max instructed from behind a finger.
“Soz.”

The “wroof!” was far too close but the following padding of feet was away from us at least.

“What have you got there boy?” there was a few seconds of silence then, “a wallet? Probably one of those jogger types dropped it, best take it to Sergeant Meijke. Come on Fritz.”

We stayed amongst the vines maybe a little longer than strictly necessary, I could hardly contain my giggles.

“We should go back,” Max suggested sometime later.
I sat up onto his stomach and looked down at him,”worn out already?”
“No, but its nearly ten,” he pointed out.
“And?”
“And we'll both get it in the neck if we're too late getting you home.”

My Handy chirped for attention, I located it in the top of my knickers – well a girl has to be inventive when she hasn't got pockets! I opened the mail and sighed.

“That'll be your Dad then.”
“Yeah,” I sighed, “guess we'd best call it a night.”

I climbed off him then tugged him upright as you do. I did a quick appearance check using the phones screen as a mirror.

“Ready?”
“Er,” Max managed as he did the stuff check, feeling into pockets to confirm original findings, you know like his mofa keys, “I'm sure I brought my wallet.”
“Its probably back at the house,” I suggested.
“Yeah,” he didn't sound convinced.
“Come on then, last one to the gate goes home naked!”

So okay I'm not the best of runners as you know but I did have a head start.

“Is there a good reason why my daughter is waving your shirt around her head?” Mum queried.
“Not really Frau Bond,” Max allowed snatching his shirt from my grip.
“He lost a bet,” I crowed.
“You cheated!” he accused, “you haven't found my wallet have you Frau Bond?”

So that started a search of Schloss Bond for the missing leather goods.

“Bum!” Max stated as we came up empty handed.
Then a thought hit me, “didn't Fritzy find a wallet?”
“Not her please!” Max over dramatised.
“Her?” Dad queried.
“Frau Holdorf, she was walking Fritz up in the vineyard earlier,” I supplied.
“Is it worth popping round?” Mum suggested.
“She was going to take it to the Polizei.”
“Why didn't you say anything then?” Dad asked.
“I didn't know I'd dropped it then,” Max supplied with a sigh.
“Come on lad, I'll run you round to the station,” Dad stated.

“Do I want to know about the shirt?” Mum asked after the men had departed.
“Probably not,” I admitted.
“Just remember girl, boys have feelings too.”
“I know,” I almost whined.
“Hmm, don't tease him too much eh, he's a nice lad.”
“Mu-um!”
“I checked your case, I've put you some socks in, you only had one pair.”
“Yes mum,” was that it? I must be improving.

“Wait for me,” I squeaked.

The others were thirty metres ahead chatting away while I struggled with my case and bike box – the borrowed one from Han is one of those hard plastic things which does at least have wheels.

“Come on slow coach,” Gret encouraged in her own unique way.

Of course being in the minibus we had to park miles from the terminal and even though Bonn/Köln is only fairly small as airports go it still left us with a fifteen minute walk to the internal check ins. We must look a right sight, Angela pushing a trolley of stuff and the rest of us towing cases and bikes through the terminal. Finally though we reached the Air Berlin desk and we started the job of checking in all of our luggage.

We eventually got through to the gate – it was less fuss than when we went to Japan, well we are only going one end of the country to the other I guess rather than halfway around the world. Gret and Tal were quite excited but I'm an old hand at this flying lark now, America, France, Japan, yeah a right jet setter aren't I. It wasn't a long wait and we were making our way down to the A319 that's gonna whisk us south.

The flight left the terminal a couple of minutes after the advertised eleven forty and we hardly seemed to be airborne for a couple of minutes before we were approaching Munich.

“Is that the Alps?” Gret excitedly asked which resulted in Tal and myself craning to look out of the tiny porthole.
“Must be,” I surmised, “there's even snow on some of them.”
“Cool!” Gret stated.
“I hope the race doesn't go up that high,” Tali opined.
“Don't be daft, its only on the very tops.”
“I thought Bayern was all mountains, it looks pretty flat down there to me.”

As the aircraft banked around more of the pancake like plain that sits to the north and east of Munich came into view. Its probably not as flat as it looks from up here but its certainly not mountains.

“How far?” I complained.

We've been landed fifteen minutes and we haven't even got to the luggage bands although we have had a short ride on a train thing.

“It can't be far now,” Dad suggested as we waited to board another escalator.
“At least we aren't carrying our bags all this way,” Angela offered as we followed the other passengers downwards again.
“I can see the bikes,” I told the group, the bags and boxes came into view stacked in an area adjacent to the luggage bands.
“Right,” Dad started, “I'll collect the bikes and I'll meet you at the luggage pickup.”
“On your own Dave?” Angela queried.
“They'll all fit on a trolley,” Dad stated.
“Band 12,” I advised spotting a board with the info on.

Once off the escalator we split up, our bags were already doing the circuit by the time we arrived – maybe the long journey to reclaim is so they can get the bags here before us? Anyhow Gret found a trolley and by the time Dad joined us with our stack of bikes we had the cases balanced on it. Now we just need to get to the car hire stations.

“How do we get all this lot in one car?”
“All sorted,” Dad advised.
“How?”
“You'll see.”

The five of us made our way outside into some sort of plaza then across to the Avis office where all of us bar Dad were surprised to find Dieter and Sonja, Gret's parents.

“Mum! Dad!” Gret ran the remaining distance to greet them.
“Everything okay?” Dad enquired.
“As clockwork,” Dieter advised, “you just need to go in and sign the paperwork Dave.”
“Best go and do it then.”

Dad disappeared inside, the rest of us settled on a bench to wait.

“So how's the Exhauster going Angela?” Sonja asked.
“Its certainly keeping me busy, you haven't driven down have you?”
“No, flew from Berlin, we got here what, two hours ago?”
“Ja,” Dieter confirmed.
“Why didn't you say?” Gret demanded.
“Thought we'd surprise you, Roni not with you?”
“The seniors drove down yesterday,” Angela supplied, “they're probably out training by now.”
“Think I'd rather fly,” Tal stated.
“That was quick,” Dieter suggested as Dad rejoined us.
“No one else in there, shall we get off then?”
“We gonna eat sometime?” I enquired.
“Let's get out of the airport first eh kiddo?”
“Yes Dad,” I sighed.
“I've got some of the 'flap jack' in the box if you can wait until we get to the bus,” Angela offered.

You've done the car hire thing right? After another mini hiking adventure we found our transport for the next few days a pair VW T5 buses. For speed we shoved the bikes and cases all into one and the human cargo all clambered aboard the other. Which meant I didn't get the flapjack as we were already on the autobahn heading towards the Münchener Ring by the time I remembered.

In fact it was over an hour before we pulled in to the Seeshaupt rest area by which time I wasn't the only one flagging, we haven't eaten since frühstück.

“I could eat a horse,” I suggested as we made our way into the restaurant.
“You aren't in Belgium you know,” Tal giggled.
“Har de har.”
“They don't do they?” Gret queried.
“It has been known,” I confirmed.
“That's like, like...” Gret spluttered.
“Like eating snails?” I giggled.

Maddy Bell © 14.08.17