'Wo kimmd ihr ha, wo gäd ihr hi?’
Nice pic. Pity no pralines.
Crossing a bridge which leads us away from the river, we enter a small village. Every single half-timbered cottage with its identical-looking flower-box-filled balconies looks like something straight off a Milka chocolate box. One quaint little house has a sign on the garden gate warning ‘Vorsicht, bissiger Hund.' I scour the grounds sceptically. Not a single sign of a vicious dog anywhere. Either it doesn’t exist (Germans often put up such signs just to scare off curious passersby) or it’s having a midday nap.
|"Free-roaming dog. If dog comes, lie on the ground and wait for help. If no help comes, good luck."|