Still, I knew that when a free sample of the product was given out that Himself would be most accommodating when it came to relieving me of my unwanted tipple, so win-win. The bus group would stay the night in the hotel and then head home the next day. The idea that people come from far and wide especially to see this brewery seemed very positive so although the kids moaned a little, Himself and I told them that this was going to be fun and as a special favour to their Papa we should do this as a family.
We therefore joined a large group of German tourists and were led into the brewery by our guide. The German being spoken by the guide is motoring along at the same speed as the autobahn speed limit.
Himself tries but admits defeat after a few minutes. Apart from the younger bus driver, the bus tour group is made up of beer aficionados and all of them are a lot older than us. Some of the bus tour people seem to be speaking a German dialect, which the tour guide also knows. There is no provision for English translation. We understand not a single word. I find a step to sit on. Little Mr gets tired of standing and comes and sits on the knee of my good leg. Several hands shoot up. The questions appear to be as long winded as the forthcoming answers.
More than ten minutes later we move into a small cinema screening area. Sadly there are, many of them, and more than ten minutes later we are finally out of the cinema area. At each stage the long long explanation of everything around us is repeated and the guide asks if there are any questions.
For some reason this group always have questions and with every positive response to this question I groan inwardly. The hours are ticking by. The outside doors have been locked behind us for reasons of security and the route back to where we came in is not a direct one. The bus group move on enthusiastically and at one point I work out at we sat for roughly twenty minutes listening to information and then answers to questions.
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