Paradise Lost, Along with a Passport

After driving for four hours Erin and I enter what looks like paradise. A small red-roofed village framed by distant Alps. We pull off the road just to bask in the beauty. I try hard to imprint the view in my mind and snap a few photos before we continue. I would like to tarry a bit longer but as a result of the rest area’s closed bathroom I may lose my friend to a burst bladder. The decision to move on is any easy one. Finally, we arrive at Guest House Weiher, our home for the next two days. Our small wood-paneled room has two beds and balcony with a beautiful view of the castle. It is already about 9:00 and we decide to get something to eat and then decide against showering. We head into the town of Schwangau to find a restaurant our host has marked on a map. Only, we can’t find it. The town appears to have one main road with about 4 roads leading off of it, so it shouldn’t be difficult. We decide we are either directionally challenged or suffering from impaired thought process due to hunger. We park and walk the small street where the only thing we can find open is an Italian restaurant. So much for my idea of eating only white asparagus while in Germany, it is the season after all. We sit, we order, and despite the fact that ethnicity of the food was marring my perfect German evening, I find I enjoy it. In fact Erin’s pizza is far better than any pizza I have had in Washington or New York for the past three years.

It is when the bill arrives tragedy arrives with it. Erin can’t find her wallet. We are tired, and dirty, and if we weren’t full of Italian food (and in 2007) we could be Dickens characters. But, I have plastic and an unwavering belief that we are going to find the wallet, filled with cash, passport, credit cards and identification in our lovely auto, or in our room. No such luck. We go to bed. I don’t fall asleep until about 3 am thinking about what we will do if we can’t find the passport.