Austria. Summer 2004.
No lonely goatherds on this Austrian hillside farm slash village. Just a couple of cows, a cat, and a nice young man named Fritz who charms us all with his good humor and makes the girls swoon with his sun-kissed cheeks. There's a church at the bottom of the hill with skeletons in its basement, which had us all crowding around the tiny window to the catacombs the night before trying to spy on the bones, but that's forgotten now. It's warm, but the fog rolled in early this morning, and shows no signs of rolling out back out, so we've all pulled on our long sleeve shirts. It's a little stuffy, but it keeps the chill away.