Deustchland Waxing

Since I was derogatory about the roads in the UK yesterday, and don't want to sound like a broken phonograph, I'll avoid dedicating to much of this post to traffic updates. Having said that, I'm not impressed with the general roadtrip experience in Germany so far. Our merry meandering towards Munich has found itself beset by road closures on all sides. I believe we are now on a road. However, the universal lack of forward momentum, coupled with the abundance of Germans who have exited their cars for a smoke break, leaves an impression more akin to a parking lot rather than motorway. I'm considering wandering over to the adjacent tour bus to ask if i can make use of the toilet they are proudly advertising as a feature.

Traffic aside, there's been several interesting developments:

• The tribulations of our much-maligned cartop carrier continue. It has developed a horrific buzzing noise at speed. Seemingly this is emenating from the straps vibrating, but no amount of creative tying or excessive tape has resolved the issue. The other possibility is that we're being pursued through Deustchland by an 800 pound bumblebee.
• Additionally, there's some debate going on as to whether the increasingly large dent in the roof (caused by aforementioned cartop carrier) will start collecting water now that it's raining and we've stopped.
• I had my first beer since I arrived. It was a hefferwiezen. I ordered it in German and was, thus, very proud of myself. It was also delicious. 
• Patte has, apparently, taken her pants off. I'm not sure why and I don't plan on turning around to find out, but there's something going on in the back of this van that has warranted a pants removal.

There's a certain level of indescribable chaos going on in this van. Punctuated by wild cheering every time there's forward progress. Or sometimes screams of terror depending on how aggressive Bridget (the current driver) is at carving out forward progress.

... and Dad has left the vehicle. Hopefully he decides to come back before the next frantic bout of crazed Bridget-driving happens.