The Hills are Alive...

You guessed it. We made it to Salzburg where the hills are certainly amazing, but not without some exciting adventures along the way. Would you expect anything less?

We began the day with an outstanding breakfast that would probably have easily fed four people. It was certainly hard to believe that we had been in Slovakia for an entire week, and we were kind of sad to have to move on. I was going to miss saying, "Hovorite po anglicky?"

We were no sooner on our way when the weather suddenly turned for the worse and soon we were driving along in the pouring rain in conditions that reminded me of driving on the PA turnpike. Since trucks don't deliver on Sunday we can't help but wonder if they were all out in full force to make up for lost time.

We were on the road in the rain for a couple of hours when I suggested that we detour off the highway to the town where my father's ancestors came from. So, we decided to make a quick jaunt through Zavar and the town just north, where the Mrenna family lived. On our way through Zavar, Marty spotted a cemetery on the side of the road, and I suggested that we stop, just for a minute, to take a peek.

There were three women in the cemetery, putting flowers on the graves, and after attempting to introduce myself, it was clear that none of them spoke a word of English. I told them, in my botched Slovak, that I was related to the Mrena family of Zavar and asked if they could show me where the Mrena graves might be. One woman, Maria Lu'delova, gestured for me to follow her, and within a minute, she was pointing to the grave of Jozef Mrena, my great grandfather, and his wife, Jozefina. I was shocked, to say the least, to have this woman lead me to the correct person so quickly. Marty took quite a few pictures, and I hugged her and thanked her, very much, (in Slovak) for her help. All of the women were waving goodbye as we beeped as we made our way down the road.

Marty and I then headed into the town where we took photos of the church that the Mrena's would have attended. The inside was extremely beautiful. All of the churches, in Slovakia, have gates closed when they are not open for mass because people were stealing statues and selling them for money. That's what Helga told me. But, at least one can walk into the back and see the beauty of the inside.

By this time, we had driven out of the rain, and we headed back onto the highway, stopping for an Austria road atlas and a vignette sticker for the windshield of the car for Austria. Then, we headed out on the Autobahn for Salzburg.

After checking into our Penzion, we decided to hop a bus into Salzburg for dinner. We were disappointed to find the pizazz of meals that we had discovered in Slovakia,, missing. Our waitress had to be one of the grumpiest that we have ever encountered! We're hoping for cheerier encounters tomorrow.