Bye bye Vienna (and see you later?)

So... we haven't written a blog post for over a week, huh? But I can explain everything! It wasn't our fault at all!!! The reason for the sudden silence is actually capitalism! Yes, that's right.

The capitalism probably made the owners of the website Jimdo say: 'Well, we offer the possibility to create a pretty cool website for free. But HOW do we make money out of it? We need to have some big disadvantage of the free version so that people have to buy the Pro version. I would say, let's restrict those weird bloggers who like to upload many pictures and give them only 500 MB of storage space. HA! That will probably only allow them to write 10 posts or so! Genius.'

And that's how our blog post from 23.02. just wouldn't upload because we had already used up 499 MB... That's why those of you who we unfortunately don't have regular phone contact with haven't heard yet how things went with us and Rosti since the little 'incontinence incident' (as we lovingly call it). But I'll keep it short as I have many more days to catch up.

Thursday, February 23, 2017

Just like the past few days in Vienna, this day started with us still having no concrete idea about the origin of the mysterious liquid. So David had to clean the engine again, let it run, and examine it. By now he was quite sure that he saw diesel coming out of the fuel injection hose. We had enough of calling hundreds of garages back and forth. That's why we simply turned to the faithful ADAC, who recommended another garage nearby that should take a look at it. The boss of the garage personally took care of our case and even spoke a few words of English with us! He and a very experienced colleague who never spoke to us but sometimes to himself localized the problem just like David at the fuel injection nozzle, replaced its hose, and tightened a screw. Done. Rosti was dry. 70€.

So we had spent four days worrying about a loose screw!

But anyway, luckily that was all behind us now. So we started planning eagerly where we wanted to go next and ended the day with a farewell beer at the Bar de l'Hotel de Ville (this time without Pierre, but with his equally nice cousin who said they would miss us).

Friday, February 24, 2017

When we left Vienna, I had mixed feelings. On one hand, I would miss it and regretted not having seen much of this lively city yet. On the other hand, I was glad to leave behind the place where we had been anchored for so long because of Rosti. We could now go wherever we wanted and leave behind the constant tension and irritability.

We were finally on our way south again and on our way to another architectural uniqueness.

The small town of Hauterives was small, deserted, and not very beautiful. Its only livelihood was the lingering fame of having had one significant resident 100 years ago. Every street corner and every tree was named after him. His name was Ferdinand Cheval, he was a postman and in my opinion a role model for all of us.

One day in April 1879, on his way home from his daily tour as a rural mail carrier, the then 43-year-old stumbled upon a very special stone that reminded him of his lifelong dream. And from that day on, he spent 33 years building every night and all alone on his Idéal Palace in his small vegetable garden behind the house. This palace is unique worldwide because its builder had no knowledge of architecture whatsoever. He was inspired by nature, the newspapers he delivered, and since 1890 by the popular postcards from all over the world. And so, by the hands of a single man and after 10,000 days and 93,000 hours of work, a structure was created that doesn't care about fitting into artistic trends and whose only purpose is to bring joy to other people (and animals).

Here are a few thoughts from David again:

The Idéal Palace is a great contrast to the Ronchamp church, you can feel the spirit and wit of the builder in every corner. It is an honest structure full of hidden meanings, the palace of a dreamer, a madman? Every tiny loophole is accessible and lovingly adorned with frescoes and inscriptions. It was designed just like Notre-Dame du Haut, although less consciously. Because the good postman knew exactly what his palace would become one day and so he adorned it with anecdotes to various regions, invited believers of all religions (he even created a small mosque), all with the intention of inviting other people to dream his dream with him. And so the palace is a maze in which young and old can lose themselves, in the charming madness of a dreamer.

In short: We were very inspired and gladly take this man as an example to continue pursuing our dreams.

At the end of the day, we left the town of Hauterives and returned to the beautiful Rhône, where we spent the night at a campground by its banks.