on the Weinstrasse

To usher in Daniel's 37th year we spent the weekend in one of his favorite activities: sniffing out wine:) In the end, all he found was on restaurant menus, but we had a good time all the same.

We started in Worms, which is much cuter than its name implies, and checked out a bit of Martin Luther and his wormy diet. After a few adventures with the gear shift of our rented Fiat Panda (heh) and a very fabulous lunch in Deidesheim (three cheers to Hans) we wound up in the Pfalzer Wald, right on the French border. The weather on Saturday was crummy though, so we didn't do much.

Sunday, on the other hand, was absolutely beautiful. We drove across the border into France (because we could) and stumbled across a sign for the Maginot Line. So we went. Because we could. (This, in essence, is why I love Europe, btw: "Because we could.") We decided to take a tour and proceeded to descend 30 meters down into a giant bunker. Our pictures didn't really come out very well, but suffice it to say that after about 30 minutes down there, I was pretty sure I'd rather have the mustard gas, all things considered. Dank. Damp. Thoroughly creepy. We cut out of the tour after an hour--which was only the midpoint--because it was really too beautiful to be 30 meters underground in a giant hole. We drove back along little country roads with blossom petals floating in the breeze. Lilacs, tulips, apple trees, the works. Ah. We spent the rest of the day puttering down the Weinstrasse, all in all, a very nice weekend.