Full Circle, Part 1

We haven't done a lot of traveling around Europe with our little family. My husband and I had the chance to do some traveling before we had kids, before we moved here. We have always said that our move here was about the experience of living in Belgium. But we still had a short bucket list of places we wanted to go with the kids. So when time and the tight budget allows, we do what we can and try to choose destinations that the kids will remember.

One of the destinations forever on our list was Austria, and more specifically, Salzburg. When my husband, John, was in college, he worked hard (to bring his grades up) to earn himself a place in the study abroad trip to Salzburg, Austria. He stayed with three other friends at the home of an older couple, the Peskas. At the time, they were 70 years old. It was there that he learned to speak German, just by talking to them at their kitchen table. He fell in love with Europe and discovered a passion for connecting with people from other cultures.

Salzburg is an 8-hour drive from Brussels, which just seems really far with little kids. We pushed it down the bucket list priority, in favor of other destinations: warm, sunny Spain and easy-to-get-to London. But here we are, with a time-clock ticking, and one last week of precious school vacation. So we threw together a six-day road trip adventure (cue Chevy Chase's Holiday Road music).

On Monday night, we got everyone in the rental car. (We rented a minivan so as to avoid putting miles on a car we are about to sell. More about how this was a bad idea, later.) We took advantage of John's jet lag (he had just returned from a trip to the U.S. two days before) and drove through the night. We arrived in Munich at 2 in the morning, to one of the best hotels this family of five has ever found. (Double-decker suite - the NH is awesome.) Usually, a family of five has to have two hotel rooms in Europe, and that can add up in a hurry.

The next morning (late morning) we drove the last hour or so to Salzburg. Actually, we drove past Salzburg to explore the German mountain town of Berchtesgarden (more about this to follow in Part 2). We arrived in Salzburg just in time to walk to dinner. At a beer hall John remembered fondly from his college days (the Augustiner).

Now, my husband has seen a lot of the world. There are not many places that he walks around in awe. One of the first times I saw his eyes gloss over in amazement was at the Rock of Gibraltar. Another was in the town of Tel Aviv. But he walked through the town of Salzburg that night in complete wonder, with a look of nostalgia in his eyes. (But do keep in mind that we were also operating on very little sleep.) My goal, however, was to get three hungry, tired kids to dinner and back to the hotel for a decent bedtime (for myself).

The beer hall destination turned out to be a perfect choice - ready made sausages and schnitzel all around, we were out of there in 30 minutes. By the time we got back to the hotel, it was clear that John needed to go wander around by himself for awhile and get some reminiscing out of his system. I happily volunteered to stay with the kids. In his wanderings, he checked in with some friends from his study-abroad group and learned that his "house frau" might still be alive.  

So the next day, we hopped on the bus, and rode the route he used to take to go home from school. And we walked down a little street and around a corner. And rang the bell on the gate. And there, in the window of a little house, an old woman peered out the kitchen window. She came and let us in, and upon seeing John, threw her arms to the heavens and said "Johann. My Johann." She is 93 years old.

It was pretty cool.

We followed her into the house and she gave each of the kids a bottle of soda, and cut up a cake (that the kids later said tasted like cardboard). She made us coffee, gave Johann a beer, and talked to us in German. We listened to Daddy tell stories that we had heard before, but meant so much more sitting in the house where they happened.

For all of us to get to meet Kathe Peske in person, and see the kitchen table that sparked the passion that grew to the point of us being able to live here, was priceless and worth every hour we spent in the car last week.