As I come out of the room (in search of hot water for tea) to the veranda, a couple is already sitting eating breakfast. I stop to chat. They are Australian (Pat and Bertha Mary Wells) and have been on the road for months, their travel path has included Iran, Egypt, the various “stan” countries (Kazakhstan, etc.). They are very interesting, tour a lot, and, after a few of us have met them, invite us to visit and stay on their property in Australia. Apparently others pull their campers onto the property and stay for a while. They introduce us to some Australian – rubba duck (dingy), sundowner (early evening drink). Referring to some guests that came to visit them, he says in his strong Australian tongue “afta thee werk ewt a few weds in Austrayin” – (after they work out a few words in Australian). They recommend Wolf brand backpacks with wheels for “geriatric” backpacking. Their blog site: http://patnberthawells.blogspot.com/. Her email address: berthawells@icloud.com.
The evening prior, Marlene tried to confirm with Violet that she will serve scrambled eggs for breakfast in addition to the hard boiled eggs that she normally serves. Someone had assured Mar in an email that eggs would be available any style, but Violet is hedging. Mar is persistent. After talking with Pat and Bertha a bit, I go down to the kitchen on the first floor where Violet is preparing the breakfast plates. She starts asking me about how we like our scrambled eggs. The next thing I know I’m cooking them for everyone. Violet is fine with that. She is busy enough with other stuff.
After breakfast Violet orders a taxi for us. She accompanies us down the hill to the spot where we were dropped off the day before. The six of us, with our luggage arrive … we look at the taxi driver in his little Mazda … he looks at us … we all say somewhat simultaneously “we won’t fit”. While he could fit 6 of us without luggage, it really appears there is no way. However, after trying to call 
Nicola (the driver from the day before), and after he puts a few items in the car and tells us that it is not permitted to put that many in the car, we volunteer Jeff for the small rear seat (with a bag on his lap) so that Mar, Frank, Lynn, and Cathy can sit in the middle seat. I sit up front with a bag on my lap.
pill viagra for sale But if you want to take the medicine from online pharmacies. Symptoms like bloating, fullness, upper abdominal pain, nausea viagra sample overnight and dizziness etc. The only good thing is that every owner will http://deeprootsmag.org/2016/12/13/you-have-come-to-the-world-i-pour-out-praise-for-you/ sildenafil tablets note that this is very unusual behaviour and try to contain the negative impact it has on their customers. It’s purchase generic viagra Prices not considered as harmful as a steroid.
Somehow we all fit – but just barely. He tells us as we pull away “Japanese school bus”. We all laugh – except Jeff.
On the ride over, he tells me about how Germans and Croatians are different. Germans always follow the rules and would never permit the car to be overloaded like this. They always check to see that he has his seatbelt buckled in his car, with him driving – before the car pulls away from the curb. He says Croats are improvisors and kind of go with the flow. He says he has a metaphor that sums it up. A German, when hanging a picture on a wall, will analyze and measure and drive one nail that will result in the picture being hung perfectly on the first attempt. Whereas a Croat will start by putting a nail in the wall and then hang the picture on it. If it does not look right, he’ll move the nail a little and try again, and so on until the picture is where it looks right. I asked how an American would hang it; he said the American would just leave it where it was first place. I added that the Italians would do it much like the Croats but would make a lot more noise.