It cracks me up that I walk into a small Backstube (read-bakery) in the Bavarian region of Germany and Kesha is playing on the radio. Among the smell of bread, the heavy wooden accents, and the language floating in the air, that music seems a bit out of place. It doesn't stop me from nodding my head and tapping my foot to the beat, however, while I enjoy my oh so delicious vanilla and chocolate croissant. There's icing on the outside, and Surprise! Gooey chocolate goodness in the middle that's probably getting all over my face. Good thing I'm facing the door so I can smile and greet the locals in mumbly, chocolaty toothed German. "Morgen!"
The weather is drop dead gorgeous and the plan for the day is to go hike an Alp. I wish I could say I've always wanted to say that, that I hiked an Alp, but I haven't always wanted to, just the last couple of days. Ever since I walked out of our hotel and they'd be nonchalantly chilling there, giving me a head-nod and a "What's up? Yeah, that's snow you see. You know you wanna come play in it." Yes, Mr. Alp. Yes I do. And crunch on it in my snow boots. Alpine glory, here I come.
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