Unhandy as a building shape

As I said last blog, we were kinda happy to move on from Metaponto. Lack of life in the town made for a lack of life in us. Up we get nice and early in the morning once again because we have the most reliably early alarm clock. One place I had on my list of must-sees was Alberobello. We got there at a good time, parked the car, and were approached by an Italian asking us to interpret the parking sign… Even when I said I-a speak-a englisha, all I got was “no problem, what does that parking sign mean?”

Alberobello’s attraction is its Trulli. Awesome smallish buildings made out of stone, usually circular in shape and with dry stone roofs. Their walls are rendered and painted white, while the roofs are left natural, apart from some which have magic symbols painted on them. They are freaking amazing and people still live in them. The doorways are fairly low, and circular is really unhandy as a building shape, but they have their charm and I may have to build next to my round tower. I think Puglia must have had too many stones or something, so it made sense to build houses out of them. Certainly there are also a lot of stone fences about – enough to make you think you are on Craggy Island… with olive and citrus trees as well as plenty of cocaine – I mean raisins!

Wandering about these stone marvels, we found a few pastries of course as well as a playground. I got all misty eyed about my grown up daughter climbing onto the play equipment and going down the slide with no assistance whatsoever. I had better be buying that mountain bike for her for Christmas.

We drove on towards the Adriatic coast as we were set on another beach town for accommodation. This time we didn’t book ahead as we wanted to scope out the place before we committed and make sure there was some atmosphere. We got a bit tetchy again trying to negotiate the bigger cities which all seem to have essential roads blocked off. Managed to get out of Monopoli and were relieved to find a nice place up the road where we could find lunch. It was probably a bit fancy for us, but we made do. Stayed in a swanky hotel as well, right on the beach. It was blowing a bit of a gale but, so we put Anya down for a nap and caught up on blogging and organised the final places of our holiday!

Made ourselves swim in a shallow rock pool and felt better for it, but it still wasn’t great. Actually sat out for dinner in Polignono a Mare and really enjoyed…. Pizza! Anya had her first carousel ride which we think possibly maybe she enjoyed, but we weren’t real sure. We should probably just give her some gravel next time. The highlight for me was gelato again for dessert and eating it in the massive town square/piazza where it was totally humming. It was exactly what we needed after our ghost town experiences. Anya even got a kiss from a 7ish year old Italian boy!

Sunday the next day so breakfast was not until 8:30. Sounds rather civilised until you remember that we get up at around 6:00 and have limited space and supplies to keep a toddler entertained. That particular hotel also had paper thin walls, so we got out at first light and walked the coastline/beaches for an hour or so. Found a real gem of a beach, so we had to go back on our way out of town after breakfast for a dip! By the time we got there with bathers and a full belly of croissants, and custard filled pastries we were surprised to see Italians lining the inlet with their fold up chairs, towels and budgie smugglers. Anya had heaps of fun doing sandy things and playing hide and seek with the local cats. Dogs are still cool, but cats are the best.

Parking space available

Time is running out! We have less than a week left to pack adventures into! We have less than a week left to eat pizza from the source! We have less than a week left to keep our Panda whole! Less than a week left for Anya to charm the socks off Europe… Ciao Bella! Bellissima!

Since I last wrote we have been back in time to Pompeii. I’m not exactly sure what to say about it. I found it hard to believe that it’s about 2000 years old. I had a little bit of fun coming up with conspiracy theories – after all it’s a great money spinner for Italian tourism. The level of detail preserved by rock and dug up forever later very carefully, is actually very interesting. I guess I was more excited about the ‘mechanics’ of the operation than the history laid bare. I would have liked to see the archaeologists in action. I would have liked to see the buildings being built in the first place… And also when they were buried, albeit sad. I also enjoyed thinking about the Romans being the first to pave roads. Especially when so many of their highways are potholes at the moment. Great civilisations come and go!

The next day we drove up and over the hill we were staying on and came upon the Amalfi coast. Myra and I had both lowered our expectations, thinking it probably wouldn’t be as good as it’s hyped… We were impressed. The sheer cliffs, with sheer buildings. Roads passing through the rock, people’s houses perched over the top of hooting cars and buses. I honed a few skills simultaneously; driving, spatial awareness, wife-soothing, driver-abusing, pedestrian dodging… Never say a man can’t multi-task… Along the way there were some corners that had pictures and names of people. Not sure if they were people who had come to grief there, or whether they were famous racers and the corners were just named after them. Still a sobering thought, imagining a car catapulting over the rock walls and finishing up who-knows-where.

Stopped at a cave which surprisingly had parking space available, and caught a lift down through the rock to sea level. There we hopped into a little square bathtub with 5 others and were rowed around a cave by a singing, but totally bored Italian. The attraction of this particular cave is that the sea water comes through a subterannean tunnel which the sunlight also comes through. The result is brilliant emeraldine water that glows. If you’re still into conspiracy theories you would say that there is a blue light just out of view… Anya was happy to jump in and check it out for us, but we managed to hold on to her just.

We travelled on to Amalfi itself and parked the car deep in the rock. There aren’t many options left for the Amalfites, so I’m guessing they’re going to get good at tunnelling. Checked out the local market set on a wall jutting out into the sea. Myra got excited about apples again. She’s a good Tassie girl. After that we decided enough was enough and we jumped into the water. The Amalfi beaches are gravelly, but the water was beautiful, and it made us all very happy.

Driving on we had lunch in Minori, which was much more like us. Still the Amalfi coast, still steep and crazy, but only a handful of tourists. Myra got a bit of a shock when her pasta came out piled high with shellfish. “What do I do with this!?!?” She figured it out, ate it, and enjoyed it. This is what travelling is about. Explored the alleyways about Minori, but kept running into copious amounts of stairs which we weren’t up to with our full bellies.

Final Amalfi stop was a little town called Erchie that we almost passed by without noticing. Probably if it hadn’t had such a cool name we would have kept on, but we took the narrower road down the hill, ignored the parking ticket machine because it didn’t work in English, and walked down to the beach. I wondered fleetingly if it was a gay beach because there were mostly men lounging about, but then I remembered that the women were home doing the laundry and getting some pasta ready for later… A beautiful setting for a beach, good fun swimming and lounging with Anya, and another crazy lady who couldn’t get enough of our fair-haired daughter.

You may think we should have done enough swimming by now, but we decided that our next place should be on the beach. We picked Metaponto out on google maps, checked out a few of the local images and thought “she’ll do”. The drive there was quite a long one, on some of Italy’s better freeways. A lot of tunnels and bridges, which I still find fascinating. Stopped along the way at a place called Craco. We picked it out of a coffee table book that someone gave me. Something along the lines of 1000 ultimate places to visit and Craco was in the ghost town category. Amazing, picturesque place.

They started to leave the town in the 1960’s, and only fully evacuated in 1980. The oldest buildings are well preserved and date back at least to the 1200s, but the town had been there since a few years BC. The reason for evacuation was landslides and an earthquake to polish it off. The oldest parts are built on rock, but when they ran out of that they started building around it on the clay. 2 different sorts of clay that don’t mix, to be precise… With the added weight and complications from water building up in the wrong places things started to go downhill. Literally.  There were numerous attempts to save the town with retaining walls and masses of concrete, but mistakes were made and it was quite simply impracticle. The town lost quite a few houses, a few bridges and a sports field from a place where you couldn’t believe now that there was ever land there. There was also a braying donkey.

In Metaponto we had our usual struggle finding the accommodation but then got down onto the beach and did some more sculpturing with the sand. Anya is so happy being able to run around, as long as the waves don’t catch her as they come up the beach. Unfortunately this town is also pretty much a ghost town as tourist season is over. Every apartment block is shuttered up, the camps look derelict, and food is hard to come by. We are enjoying the beach, but will be happy to move on to somewhere more gezellig tomorrow.

We found lunch in Bernaldo today though and it was great! I needed a pizza which we managed to find at a very swanky place. We were dining with the drivers of a troupe of Lambourghini SUVs. I counted 12 of them parked all in a row along the street. They must have somehow reserved parking… None of them had a messy toddler with them, which explains why I’m not driving a Lambo I think. Topped off our delicious pizzas with some genuine Gelati and the day was made!

Realising that the awful flight home is fast approaching, wishing we could fit more in, experience more, taste more and swim more, but it will also be nice to relax in Turners Beach and see you all.

Good gravel it seems

Ok. I will try to write a little about what we have done here this past week!
I love Austria. 47% of the country is covered in trees. They harvest and use them of course, but that doesn't mean that they are planted in rows with massive coupes harvested all at once. They do bits and pieces here and there. From what I saw the biggest coupes would have been around 5 acres. I wish it made sense for us to copy them…

We went for a walk with our Austrian friends through forest and field, by tiny chapels with amazing views. Parts of the walk were through farmers fields, and that is totally ok. We walked past smells; dairies that simultaneously please and offend, windfall apples and pears beginning their demise, a pile of pulpy remains from other apples and pears that had been pressed and cidered… I’m a country boy. There were copious amounts of acorns on the ground – apparently a bumper year. Our host told me he makes faux-coffee with them…something I would like to try with your acorns Pa?

Sitting around the table in the evening and the reasons we are friends with these people are obvious. Getting out in nature, making produce with the lands’ bounty, music, travel, making things yourself rather than buying an ok ready-made product… We have our differences sure, but so much in common. While we are chatting the home made drinks start to come up from the cellar. Schnapps-like drinks made from a certain pine cone from above a certain altitude. Medicine. I found it dried my throat out… Then a yummy “girly” one came up made mainly from walnuts but also a lot of other things. They assured us they don’t drink much, but we had a bit that night…

Anya really enjoyed being with a family. She was adored by everyone, and picked up a new nickname. She is our little ‘mousey’. We enjoyed a few times when Anya was happy to be carried or looked after by our friends. A little chance to hold hands again, and look around at the lakes, mountains, autumn colours… A beautiful land. Maybe one day I will plan a multi-day hike in the Tyrol.

So although Austria borders Italy we took a flight from Vienna down to Rome as we are exploring a few places south of Rome. Rome airport was fine albeit packed with people. For a budget airline, WizzAir did a decent job. They didn't try and charge extra for our mountain of luggage. They were on time. We did have to take buses either end to get on and off the plane but that all went fine.

We picked up a hire car at Rome Fiumiccino airport and had our first tantrum when tomtom began his instructions by telling us to head south-east. Who knows which direction is which when they're on the other side of the world, driving on the wrong side of the road, and trying to ignore complaints from the backseat? Not to worry, we managed to fluke this 50/50 decision, and then spent the next 2.5 hours trying to spot someone using their indicators...

I have a theory that when so many cars have smashed indicators, maybe it's best not to bother using them and give drivers any false ideas. It's nothing to create 2 lanes in 1 here. 4 lanes in 2. Overtaking seems to be favoured on blind corners. Speed camera signs on my right coincide with vehicles overtaking speedily on my left. Intersections are a free for all. U-turns can be done anywhere, anytime and in front of anyone. Tomtom does not necessarily direct you the best way... There may be a shorter road directly up the mountain between buildings, scooters and cats which explains the scratches on our Fiat Panda's mirrors... Sometimes it's best just to wind your way up with the rest of them. I don't know. I'm not Italian.

We spent a few lovely days in the seaside town of Gaeta. The beach was lovely, water warm enough and beautifully clear. The sand was good for building Gothic cathedrals very similar to what can be seen in Cologne. Unfortunately my daughter is more destructive than an approaching tide...

We explored the park and old town that reside on a knobbly bit of land at the end of the beach. In Germany I had my wild boar, now I'm getting my fill of Romans... I got a little excited at mtb'ers going up, down and around, but I think I just have to wait patiently for home for that. Heaps of tunnels and circular pits and things that I believe were artillery placements in a war sometime. It was very cool to explore some of these with the pithy light of my phone and try not to clear the cobwebs with Anya's head as she was perched up behind me in the pack. She was pretty happy when we stopped at a 2000-odd-year-old circular tomb for whatsisname on top of the hill. She got to eat all the sultanas from our fruit and nut mix and then play with the gravel on the floor. Romans had good gravel it seems.

While walking in the old town through alleys, and down stairways we did see a gelateria but didn't go in. I am so keen to have some icecream as there were thousands of eiscafes in Germany and Austria but we held off thinking we'd be eating real Gelati here in Italy. 4 days later and I'm still to experience a cool smooth Italian icecream on my tongue. Pizza however, we have had. In Gaeta they had a local specialty which is pretty much a Pizza-Pie. It was good, but I'm not really a big octopus in pizza man I guess. Here in the hills above Pompeii where we are currently, we had the best pizza yet. Cappricciosa which probably isn't pronounced the way you have been saying it for years... Just saying.

While on the subject of food I will talk about our adventure to get to this little place. Imagine all the things about driving I have already mentioned, and then go up a windy mountain road with buses and trucks, dogs and scooters, and even Nonna pushing GreatNonna in a wheelchair. Fun. Then realise that your directions don't really lead you to a place, just a vague area. Great. We drove our little rental through gaps a lot narrower than our driveway. We got hot and shitty. We have no data, no credit and no italian. What to do?
After finding somewhere to park eventually, we walked to a pasticeria and ordered some very nice pastries. I had sfoggliatella, which just happens to be a local specialty as well as the best thing I have eaten in a long time. No exaggeration.

Anyway, as we pay the bill which is ridiculously cheap considering the impact on my taste buds, the lady serving asks what our go is. (I think. No Italian for us, and no English for the locals, so all dialogue here is possibly wrong...) We explain we aren't ok and are looking for our Airbnb. There follows a long and voluminous discussion with the other patrons, some who are sure they know where we need to go but are ignored, and others who just point and be noisy... Eventually someone recognises the owner of the flat we have rented and has him as a contact of course. A lot of this I have figured out in retrospect. I had not much idea at the time, after all I'd just eaten sfogliatella! A friendly got us to follow him in his car the 3 minutes up the road we had to go, and there it was. We would never have found it.

Italy is a lot more stressful than where we have been previously. All three of us are wound so tight that we fit in a bit better with the locals. Driving requires all your attention and you still sometimes don't see a bus coming right at you, not to mention the scooters doing all sorts of manouvres. When your toddler has a bedtime of 19:00, you realise that dining out for dinner is not going to happen without some leeway as restaurants often don't open until 19:30. However we are still loving the willy-nilly of it. Anya gets sweets in every shop we go into. Our little troupe gets whistles of admiration. Cheeks get pinched and conversations misunderstood. This place is alive

Quite a few dogs, sticks, ducks....

In the morning we will be leaving another country behind. Germany will be behind us as we look south to a brief stop with friends in Austria, and then fly on to Italy where we hope it will still be sunny! We have been lucky with weather. We almost complained about the heat while drinking wine in the sun midday today. We did this while our little toddler was sleeping in her room...

I’m a fairly optimistic person, but even I didn’t think travelling with an 18mo would be as easy as it has been so far. Anya has been the most resilient of the 3, bouncing along behind Myra or I in the backpack. Yes, she has her tantrums, but so do we… 

I’ll forever be wondering what she is thinking and noticing. While us boring adults are comparing 12^th century architecture to buildings back home; comparing lush, green deciduous forests turning orange and red to our wild, grey bush; she may be thinking about that banana she ate in the car. Whatever it is, it’s a good long story with quite a few dogs, sticks, ducks, mums and dads in it. And a few clocks for good luck.

I may be a fool for mentioning it before our time here is over, but I have to mention sleep. Anya spent the first 11 months of her life trying to convince us that sleep is not necessary. All she proved however, was the contrary. When booking flights to Europe we thought we were probably headed back to a few months of sleeplessness. After all, travel is non-compatible with 2 naps a day and a set bed-time, not to mention a wee time difference! Awesomely, our wonderful princess daughter stepped up and has slept marvellously.

We throw everything at her. Weird foods at weird times. Set up her cot in the strangest places, including in cupboards, doorways and halfway under tables… She has learnt very quickly that the cot means it’s time to sleep, so that is what she does. While cycling along the Rhine she had to sit in a bike seat for the first time. At first she complained that she was “Stuck!”, but it wasn’t long and she worked out that this was just the new thing we did. She even fell asleep with her helmeted head bumping around against the bike seat arms and my backside. There are so many things we are doing differently every day. Our only routine is that we get up sometime, move around somehow, and eat a bit much along the way. We can’t even make up our minds which language to speak.

Our 19mo daughter is a champion. She’s my champion, and she is making travelling better, not worse. I have a very good excuse to try out a lot of different playgrounds. We can order another item from the menu which needs sharing of course. I can blame her for food stains on my clothes… But they are just small things. Anya is usually happy and she lets the world know about it. People coming towards us are often smiling, because they can see her süss little face and pigtails peering over my shoulder. She is delighted at the smallest things. It's amazing to watch her learning in a new playground, figuring out other kids, deciding that schnitzel is better than sauerkraut…

Myra does an amazing job keeping us organised. I’m not sure exactly what I do the best, but I have my part in our little ensemble. Meanwhile, the most resilient member of my little family has definitely earnt herself a lot of love, and I am oh-so-happy to give it to her.

Mortared and grouted by hand

Fences built with hand split local timber, each paling hand wound with multistrand wire. Rock walls, non-uniform stones placed one at a time, mortared and grouted by hand. Half-timbered houses, timber preserved and maintained for literal centuries. Decades-old grape vines trained around houses, al fresco areas and over streets, pruned diligently every year. Magazine arrangements displayed on window sills inside and out. Window boxes full of healthy colour. A distinct lack of low maintenance flaxes…

Australia, we are lazy.

Travelling always opens my eyes to this fact. I come home brimming with good ideas and plans. Many of these plans from 5 years ago on our previous Europe travel , such as installing window boxes, haven’t happened. Why not? I’m a lazy Australian, who is part-time European.

Some things that I am enthused about at the moment, I will write down here and publish them to the whole world. I will know if anyone actually reads my rambles, by who keeps me accountable and reminds me of these things…

• ·         I still want to build a round stone tower.
• ·         I have a horizontal flag pole, and multiple flags. Let’s make it a vertical flag pole!
• ·         Window boxes. By Christmas.
• ·         More fun in the backyard. Things to play on and build cubbies with. Sand to eat…
• ·         More fruit trees, espaliered maybe.
• ·         Bikes. Be a bike ambassador. Get on one. Abuse abusive motorists. Lobby for cycle paths.
• ·         More flowers in town. I’m not going to be liked by colleagues, but I’m going to like my town.
• ·         Renewable energy? It’s a no-brainer.
• ·         Sustainable house building. Insulation. Yep.
• ·         A container deposit scheme and no plastic bags (yes, I’m a bit of a greenie)
• ·         Playgrounds can be fun!
• ·         Make a decent Weissbier. Although my liver may not be delighted.
• ·         A half-timbered shed should be on the cards.
• ·         Most power is underground here. It does make a huge difference to photos. Now they just need to cut down on ugly signs(as do we).
• ·         Trees. Big ones that make the footpath a little bumpy. Just watch your step guys. Take a little responsibility for yourselves so we don’t become any more of a nanny state.

There are things we do better too. Just a few being…

•          Double beds are one big bed with one big doona. Not two beds pushed together with 2 single doonas on top.
•      We don’t smoke as much as Europeans, at least not in Tassie.
•      Our public toilets may not be the best hangouts, but they’re free and they exist.
•      More vegetable included with meals when dining out.
•      The best beaches

      I believe I will always call Tassie home, but there is so much here that I feel at home with. Our natural, uncrowded state has so much that I love to offer, but more often the people here have the same values that I have. Here I have the feeling that I’m not the only one caring about an issue or local space. Perhaps it’s just the enthusiasm that quickens us while we are travelling, but I feel as if I could make a difference here. Change the world, they said…

Anyway, here’s to the friends I have that are cool and do care about stuff! Come around one day and drink a beer with me in the shade of my trellised grape vine. Enjoy the marigolds in the window boxes, climb to the top of my round stone tower and meditate in the cool silence. Load your bike up with some of my excess plums, and marvel at the blooms about town on your way home...

Vegetables are unnecessary

I reckon it was about 22 years ago when I was lucky enough to visit this part of Germany with family. I remember castles and vineyards and rivers. It was back then that I decided I wanted to cycle the Rhine.

Saturday found us in Mainz, after a small hiccup where we decided to travel along the same bit of train line back and forth for 2 hours longer than necessary… Deutsche Bahn trains haven’t been living up to their punctual name for us this trip, and while I’m not blaming them, if they hadn’t been 28 minutes late, we would have happily avoided the hiccups! Get on the right train guys… On a side note, ICE trains have a special compartment for small kids. Makes travelling with a tot so much easier.

We are not big city people. We got a bit lost in the back streets looking for lycra, eventually finding a good deal where we should have gone sightseeing in the first place. I think the shop assistant would have taken Anya in exchange, but she’s worth a bit more than that to us. She is costing us a bit though, guzzling through a doner kebab that night like a little turk…

We got up bright and early as usual on Sunday and got dressed in our lycra and cycling vests. We smashed back a weeks’ worth of breakfast, as we do when it’s a buffet begging to be eaten. Unfortunately I still have not managed to try every item available, despite shoving bits and pieces in my pockets for later.

Stepping outside with our bikes and the degree of cold took our breath. We found out later that it had dipped below freezing over night. Oh wow! No time to wallow in the icy tears crawling down our faces though, because we needed nappies. On a Sunday? Hah! No chance of that, as some places in the world still make a stand against consumerism and observe a day of rest. We rationed out the remaining nappies, cautioned Anya to hold on a bit, and confiscated her food and drink*.

Finally I get to the bit where we ride along the Rhein! So what you do is you sit on the seat, make the pedals go around in a forward motion, and point it at the path with those handle-y bits. You should be prepared for the following along the way;

• ·         Signs marking out the cycle way. Without these you are lost.
• ·         Castles. They probably won’t fall out of your way when you bump into them, even though they’re old.
• ·         Bäckereien. You will see them and you will know what to do.
• ·         Wine. As above, but do it until you don’t know what you’re doing.
• ·         Very steep vineyards. I don’t know how they exist either.
• ·         Meat and fries will sustain you until breakfast. Vegetables are unnecessary, nor are they an option anyway.
• ·         Town walls. The people aren’t rude or allergic to foreigners unless you have traded your bike for a horse, shoot arrows at them, and finish them off with your mighty long sword.
• ·         Prestige German cars. Even the bogans are driving them.
• ·         Boatloads of tourists will get in your way. I’m beastly careless how you treat them actually.
• ·         Cobblestones. Don’t worry, all cobblestones lead to Rome.
• ·         Trains. Real trains. Also known as “The Fast Way”. You can take this option instead to save time, but make sure you get a carriage with no windows to save yourself having to look at the scenery.

I know I should be writing poetic descriptions about the half-timbered houses, surrounded by monolithic** walls, protected by the benevolent church, protected by the warlord in his*** castle, forcing the slaves to pick his grapes, stomp on them, blah blah, beautiful waters of the Rhine…

This time I’m not going to. I need to finish this beer and get some sleep, so I’m ready for the breakfast buffet in the morning. Experience it for yourself. Rhine not?

*We didn’t really,

**I think this means what I think it means,

***or hers

Finely structured

Man. Man Man MANLY Man.
That's what I am.
Because I am in GerMANy!
I drink massive beers.
I wear tight leather pants.
I eat meat meat meat.
That I hunted. Jäger Meister.

Wild boar in fact, if you are interested in an Asterix reference. It was yummy, but I'm not sure that homemade cranberry sauce is really to Obelix's taste. His would be a much nuanced taste I imagine due to his ethnic background. Oh, and I didn’t really hunt it either, but apparently the MAN running the restaurant did…

So anyway, amongst all this man business, we have seen some awesome stuff the last few days. Somehow we managed to stay in an awesome place called Blankenberg. I think the accommodation was relatively cheap or something… Amazing. There were too many towers for me to keep track of. Awesome buildings originally built in the 12th century, mostly restored, perching yet upon this little knob of land that we had the pleasure of climbing with all our assorted gear. Half-timbered houses (which I knew about from playing  Patrician II – a very boring game) everywhere –with little knobbly bits sticking out of the joints probably playing some small part in holding these masterpieces up. There are fruit trees in all the green spaces, herbs growing wild, pots of colour clutching at walls, windows, steps and lampposts. Church bells ring early to coax the congregation up the hill.  The community winepress from ages past, waiting patiently to crush another harvest…

Places like these make me burst out in spontaneous laughter. We are so far removed from knights and castles and even most modern wars in Tasmania, that these remnants of history can seem like fairy tales. Here in Blankenberg the people are living amongst it. I trailed one man of the house taking his rubbish out. He wheeled his two bins almost half a kilometre uphill to empty them outside the old town gates in a community bin. Too bad if you live further down the hill! There was even a hotel/gasthaus for sale… Myra was non-committal.

That’s enough from me for now. Big Beers and Schnitzels. I’ll leave you with the delightfully translated description of one such beer…

First, it attracts the eye with its bright honey colour on itself. Opal and finely structured the yeast turbidity shows. For the smell experience the nose needs two attempts.
If only distinctive fruit flavours emerge, such as bananas and honeydew melon, then fine cloves follow. It drinks and convinces with a full and soft body. The finish shows a balanced game…which goes off quickly in a harmonious nightcap.
Fine yeast sparkling and tingling refreshes it and at the same time thirst for more…

It was a very enjoyable beer in a very enjoyable place. Prost!