It was not long after arriving that we realized this was not your ordinary hotel, and it is certainly worth a blog, in the style of the British comedy, "Fawlty Towers". Here is a link to a popular episode if you are not familiar with the TV show: Fawlty Towers: The Germans
An older gentleman met us outside and introduced himself as Herr Brenner. He is the spitting image of Jon's grandfather, Christian Jahnke, down to the color of his hair. We walked into the dark entrance and immediately noticed the old fashioned decor, and musty smell of a house that hasn't been used in a while. Although the booking site told us we had managed to book the last available room, we never saw any evidence that another guest was in the house. In the entry way were an odd assortment of "snacks", including a bowl of fruit, mushrooms and a bag of peppers. Being hungry, we helped ourselves to the fruit, but left the mushrooms.
Herr B helped us to our room and we found out he spoke less English than Manuel. This led to a confusing session of him trying to explain how to use both the TV and the coffee machine, which he seemed to be trying to figure out for the first time. He gave us the keys, and stood in the doorway to our room. We were waiting for him to leave, but he just stood there. I decided against trying to ask him any questions, thanked him for his help, and wished he would leave.
Finally left to ourselves, we then checked out the bathroom. DC complained that it was dark because it was only lit by one small night-light. The biggest surprise came when we turned on the shower to find the shower head was lit with a discotheque like blue light that turned to green as the water heated up. This was just too much to DC, and when the water also refused to drain, she decided this was the creepiest bathroom she had ever been in, and she has quite a history of bathrooms.
The coffee maker overflowed, the small refrigerator tipped off its precarious perch, and the bed was uncomfortable. Maybe the breakfast would be better.
Herr B served us breakfast by himself, which led to speculation as to what had happened to his wife and child from the booking site photo. Was she somewhere in the house? Had she left him?
The hard boiled eggs arrived, and DC immediately explained that she needed hers to be boiled longer, she likes them "very hard". Herr B didn't seem to understand, but went back to his kitchen. A couple of minutes later he came back with more eggs, these were even runnier. We couldn't seem to communicate with him the simple need to have him cook them longer. DC asked for hot water in order to try to cook herself an egg, while Mo and I quickly looked up a English to German dictionary on line. After a new effort and the German word for "harder", Herr B tried again to cook us eggs. He was quite pleased with these, "8 minutes!" he said, indicating how long he had cooked them. DC declined the egg, with "no, 12 minutes!" She showed Herr B the soft egg yolk, and offered it to him. I really thought he was going to eat it in order to prove to us the perfection of his cooking time. Instead DC and Herr B came to some agreement as to how the egg should be cooked tomorrow morning.
Relieved that that was over, I was then shocked to see Herr B sit down at the breakfast table with us and try to begin a conversation! He gave suggestions for where we should visit in the area, and that we should try to get up earlier. "You need breakfast at 8:00."
We did have a beautiful day out in Salzburg, only returning to the B&B later that evening. We found that the shower drain was still plugged, but now a bag of green beans had been added to the fruit and mushrooms on the entryway snack table.
I want to see a picture of your host.
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