Ah, Bavaria. A place I had not had the privilege of visiting for a long time.
Kurtis glanced over at me.
"So, we need to locate the Watzmann Glacier. Let's get a map."
"That seems to be a reasonable idea. My knowledge of German geography is rather limited."
We made our way over to the Information Bureau. A young man, at a guess only just post-pubescent, greeted us with a smile, and a friendly smile. He gladly handed us a map, and began telling us about all the places we should visit. Trying to remain patient, I gently told him that we would definitely get round to it. As we were about to leave, I noticed he was looking at us in an analytical manner.
"Is there a problem?"
"No, of course not. It’s just you both seem familiar.”
Kurtis and I realised at the same moment that it would be wise to make a swift exit.
Soon we were out in a small town, called Berchtesgaden. We had both decided to spend one night here, to prepare ourselves for tomb exploration.
The morning crept through thin muslin curtains.
The preparations involved loading weapons, putting batteries in torches, and being ready to get dusty. Soon we were clambering into a hired Jeep. The wind whipped the loose strands of hair from my face, and was beautifully exhilarating.
The Watzmann Glacier was approaching.