Once at the top (10 km of winding road) we can eventually stop and get out other car to look around. It's beautiful.We head to The Smokehouse for lunch, which was lovely. It was like being in a rural country pub in the UK on a lovely summer’s day, and made me feel a little homesick really. I would have liked to eat outside, but it was a bit stuck in a time warp and the restaurant was quite formal, so alfresco dining was not really the thing to do here, so they declined when asked if we could eat on the patio. Not to worry – it wasn’t that important… to us.
A few minutes later this old German guy with two r I d I c u l o u s camp queens on his arm minced in and sat next to us.
- Like us, they too wanted to eat.
- Like us, they wanted to eat outside
- Unlike us, they kicked up a complete stinky drama when told that the restaurant was indoors and eating outside was not allowed, shouting at the poor manager and saying shit things like “I've been coming here for 20 years and I WANT to eat outside" and "I am going to tell all ze foreigners not to some here”
What a complete cunt.
Anyway, they left in a strop, him virtually goose stepping and them giggling and mincing away out of the place – nightmares.
Lunch was nice: a bit 1970s (heavy cream sauce on my lamb shank) and after taking a few photos of the place (which probably could do with renovation and bringing into the 20th century) we leave as it had stated to rain by this point too.
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