Going Cuckoo

13 Mar

My sister, mum and I went to some markets in my hometown this morning. I’d gone for a weekend visit to see the family, and often on a Sunday we go out and do something usually involving food.

These particular markets are situated just outside the German Cuckoo Clock shop, a local touristy attraction not too many kilometres from my parents’ house. When my sister and I were still in primary school, we would get dropped off the bus here and walk about 200m to our grandmother’s house and sit in her kitchen until one of our parents picked us up.

I have to confess that I don’t remember going inside too often as a child, possibly because they insist on playing music reminiscent of the chicken dance song and have hundreds of ticking clocks inside. And as I am very averse to ticking clocks, I tend to avoid them.

Anyhow, there weren’t too many stalls at these markets as today was their debut. So after wandering briefly, we went to the cafe next door to eat (delicious waffles) and then ventured inside the Cuckoo Clock Shop for the first time in years. Some Bavarian music greeted us at the door and my sister and I immediately started to bop along to it. We traipsed around the store laughing raucously and examined the many interesting treasures inside.

That’s me in the photo above sporting one of the hats for sale… also looking a little creepy. Proof that my sister and I should not always be in the same store at the same time.

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