There once was a decent looking princess….

…who lived high up in a beautiful castle that was built by her father. She loved her castle and rarely, if ever, wanted to leave. She enjoyed her time at the castle with her brothers and her parents-the King and Queen. They were fair and just and were loved by all the land. But one day, her parents decided that it was time the decent looking princess left home to see more of the world and to begin a search for just the right prince.

 

With a heavy heart, she saddled up her white horse and took her most prized possessions to keep her company on her long journey-her black panther-“Oreo”, her favorite red dress and her most cherished books. She knew her journey would be a long one and also brought her favorite provisions to satisfy her hunger-a side horn of coffee, several types of cheese and a few bottles of her favorite wine.

First, the decent looking princess had to cross the Great Ravine that divided her country from her neighboring country. Although the two countries were friendly, she knew that she was no longer under the protection of the King and Queen. She marched on in search of new things to see, new foods to eat and perhaps a prince worthy of the decent looking princess’ love.

After a brief bathroom break or two, and a picnic of cheese and wine, the princess made it into the neighboring country’s market place late in the evening. She saw foods never before experienced, heard dialect never before spoken, purchased fine clothing not available in her own country-and also found a great coffee shop to warm her cold hands.

While gazing upon the city, she heard soft music coming from below. She had never heard this type of music before and curiosity took hold. The decent looking princess searched the market place until she found the source of the new music. Standing before her with a sitar in hand, a crown on his head and a lovely smile, was what she knew would be her prince. For weeks, the princess enjoyed several of his musical performances throughout the city and the two quickly fell in love.

The prince and the decent looking princess were soon married and lived happily ever after. The end.

God’s Great Country-Salzburg, Austria

Dear Readers:
I’ve felt as of late, that I’m barely making it up the mountain in my life, while being passed by others who don’t seem to mind the climb. While reading this scripture this morning, “I will refresh the weary and satisfy the faint.” Jeremiah 31:25, I was reminded of this scenario.

Just outside of the city of Salzburg, Biceps and I found a hostel that perched atop a mountain, promising spectacular views. We had to take a train to get there, but trains meant croissants, hot coffee and jam. Stepping off the train and onto the desolate track, with our backpacks firmly in place, we began the long ascent on foot to Haus Lindner.

A couple of Billy Goat school-aged kids had hopped off the train with us. Dressed in their dark blue uniforms, they immediately passed us by. Their backpacks were only packed for the day-not the entire month. And the Billy Goat kids’ calves and lungs were used to climbing the mountain home.

Biceps and I were sucking wind within five minutes.

With my best attempts at speaking plain German, and hoping they’d understand, I asked how far it was to our hostel. They replied (I think), “Just up that hill.”
The hill was a mountain. And it wasn’t a small one. “Follow us,” they said, looking over their shoulders.
Determined that the whippersnappers would not get too far ahead, and wanting to make America proud, Biceps and I picked up our pace.

Finally, after reaching the top, the Billy Goat kids pointed out our hostel and trotted off for home. My legs ached and my backpack seemed to have gained an extra 10 pounds on the long climb up.

But, the scenery spread out before me-bright, spring-fed grass covered the mountain, the sun had begin peaking its head over the horizon, the terra cotta roofs dotted their way down the lane we had just climbed. It was breathtaking.

The Billy Goat kids had been conditioned for the climb-they were ready. And although I am a runner, my midwest legs only knew slight inclines-I wasn’t ready for the mountain.

But determination of not being the weak link and the promise of more croissants are rather motivating factors for this girl. I knew that I had to just get inside the hostel, set down my backpack and the breakfast would be waiting. The climb had been worth it.

I knew there would be rest eventually for me-“the weary”. If you are, like me, struggling on your mountain climb today, know that there will be rest for you. God in his faithfulness will give you rest and hopefully a croissant.

A Castle, A Beer & A Pizza

There are times when I obsess about and long for a flavor from the past. It is a hunger that cannot be quenched until I tastes of its goodness once again.

There are times when this is impossible-due to the nature of where the food came from.

I have been craving a food from the source of Salzburg, Germany-found only here at this castle.

After a vigorous climb to get to the castle (we were too cheap to ride the gondola up), Biceps and I sat down to enjoy this view…

…at the edge of the castle’s restaurant.

First things first, we ordered a tall Pilsner beer. Then, we ordered a pizza (cheapest thing on the menu) and sat back to watch the tiny cars below zipping around as our food was being prepared.

The pizza was absolutely amazing and ridiculously simple-spinach, tomatoes, mozzarella and a red sauce. I need this pizza. I want this pizza.

Blame my obsession over this fantasy pizza on the long trek to the castle, the fact that I had been subsisting on pastries and cheese for days at that point or that the scenery was unbelievably beautiful.

I don’t care. I know in my heart that my hunger for this pizza will not subside. Biceps, pack your bags. We are going back to Germany. The end.

Prague-A Simple Question

Dear Readers:

I’m not ashamed of my European roots. Both Biceps and I are Germanic. We are huge European supporters. We attend Oktoberfest with glee, wear Lederhosen if need be and drink dark ales just to show how devoted we are to the European cause.

So, without judgement, hate or sarcasm-I have one question.

Why?