Where's Bertie? He's still at the Stellplatz in Diesdorf.
Weather: Rain until early afternoon, then sunny intervals.
I often offer Mick the opportunity to write these blog posts. He always politely declines. However, tonight I'm going to solicit his input. The question I'm about to put to him is "What was the best or most interesting thing that you did today?".
His answer:
"The cooper thing."
I agree, but we'll come back to that in a little while.
First was the fact that, after just one heavy shower in the night (a night that, like the one that preceded it, commenced with an incredible hooting of owls), it started drizzling when we were about five minutes into this morning's run. That became a steady, but light rain, then about three minutes after we got back to Bertie it became heavy rain. This was not the ideal day to be visiting an open air museum, but that visit was the only reason we'd stuck around here.
The forecast said the rain was going to stop at 10. Then it said it was going to stop at 1, and the second prediction turned out to be true. So, after lunch (and a slight delay when I managed to drop my phone in a relatively inaccessible place under Bertie's floor), off we headed to the museum*.
The last time we went to one of these open air museums, comprising historic buildings from around the region that have been painstakingly relocated to the museum site, was in July 2018, in southern Germany. It was rather good.
This one was nowhere near that standard, but still didn't give bad value with its €4 entrance fee. Of course, all of the information was in German, but there were so few signs, and the summaries thereon so short, that it was feasible to Google translate everything.
Artists impression of the entire site
Remember the surprise windmill I snapped on yesterday's walk? Turns out it's part of the museum. Alas, this exhibit didn't even have scant information.
Four other snaps, all crammed into a collage
The best bit? That comes back to Mick's statement at the top. In the old hops drying building, there was a comprehensive display about the lost skill of barrel making, and upstairs was a video of an old cooper making a barrel. Whilst we could understand only a few words of the commentary, we were able to follow what was going on, and I agree with Mick that it was the most intersting bit of our day. I'm not sure what the museum would think about the highlight of our day being a video!
(The barrel that was being made in the video was also on display, together with similar barrels in various stages of construction; it really was interesting, but I failed to take any photos.)
Walking back to Bertie (the museum is just outside of the village) at gone 4pm we had a 'stay vs go' discussion. Mick, quite rightly, pointed out that there was little value in moving on at this time of day, and that we may as well stay somewhere that we know will give us a quiet night, and move on in the morning.
Weather: Rain until early afternoon, then sunny intervals.
I often offer Mick the opportunity to write these blog posts. He always politely declines. However, tonight I'm going to solicit his input. The question I'm about to put to him is "What was the best or most interesting thing that you did today?".
His answer:
"The cooper thing."
I agree, but we'll come back to that in a little while.
First was the fact that, after just one heavy shower in the night (a night that, like the one that preceded it, commenced with an incredible hooting of owls), it started drizzling when we were about five minutes into this morning's run. That became a steady, but light rain, then about three minutes after we got back to Bertie it became heavy rain. This was not the ideal day to be visiting an open air museum, but that visit was the only reason we'd stuck around here.
The forecast said the rain was going to stop at 10. Then it said it was going to stop at 1, and the second prediction turned out to be true. So, after lunch (and a slight delay when I managed to drop my phone in a relatively inaccessible place under Bertie's floor), off we headed to the museum*.
The last time we went to one of these open air museums, comprising historic buildings from around the region that have been painstakingly relocated to the museum site, was in July 2018, in southern Germany. It was rather good.
This one was nowhere near that standard, but still didn't give bad value with its €4 entrance fee. Of course, all of the information was in German, but there were so few signs, and the summaries thereon so short, that it was feasible to Google translate everything.
The best bit? That comes back to Mick's statement at the top. In the old hops drying building, there was a comprehensive display about the lost skill of barrel making, and upstairs was a video of an old cooper making a barrel. Whilst we could understand only a few words of the commentary, we were able to follow what was going on, and I agree with Mick that it was the most intersting bit of our day. I'm not sure what the museum would think about the highlight of our day being a video!
(The barrel that was being made in the video was also on display, together with similar barrels in various stages of construction; it really was interesting, but I failed to take any photos.)
Walking back to Bertie (the museum is just outside of the village) at gone 4pm we had a 'stay vs go' discussion. Mick, quite rightly, pointed out that there was little value in moving on at this time of day, and that we may as well stay somewhere that we know will give us a quiet night, and move on in the morning.
Today's cake purchase. Käsekuchen. It was good!
(*A neighbour accosted us as we were on our way out and asked, with some incredulity, what someone from the UK was doing in a small village like this. How did we even know the place was here? I explained how we'd come to be here, and said we were on our way to the museum (as he seemed to think there was nothing to do hereabouts; I didn't mention having already visited the dolmens or the pinecone oast house), but unfortunately didn't ask him what he was doing here. On the one hand, I see his point, in that it's not unreasonable to expect foreign tourists to go to the touristy hotspots, but equally, if there's nothing here, why would a native come here either? Bertie is currently one of seven motorhomes; something must be attracting them - unless it's just the free parking with services.)
(*A neighbour accosted us as we were on our way out and asked, with some incredulity, what someone from the UK was doing in a small village like this. How did we even know the place was here? I explained how we'd come to be here, and said we were on our way to the museum (as he seemed to think there was nothing to do hereabouts; I didn't mention having already visited the dolmens or the pinecone oast house), but unfortunately didn't ask him what he was doing here. On the one hand, I see his point, in that it's not unreasonable to expect foreign tourists to go to the touristy hotspots, but equally, if there's nothing here, why would a native come here either? Bertie is currently one of seven motorhomes; something must be attracting them - unless it's just the free parking with services.)
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