Biking to Weimar

Last Saturday, we had a family bike trip to Weimar. It's not very far, 25 kilometers (15 miles)by the bike path, and it was the perfect way to enjoy the weather.

Sadly, as we were leaving, Michael discovered that he had a flat tire. Fortunately, he and David were able to make the necessary repairs:

David is pretty happy in his bike seat, as long as: (1) he can see me, and (2) he gets regular breaks. When he can't see me, he yells "maMAAAA! maMAAA!" Then, when I manage to catch up (this is often on an uphill) he says, very sweetly, "hi Mama!"

It's mostly cute, but sometimes not. Like when I'm gasping for air pedaling up a steep hill, trying simultaneously to say "It's alright, David, I'm right here..."

I'm totally on board with the regular breaks, though!

David loves taking pictures together now, where I hold the camera:

You just have to love this face:

We did eventually manage to reach Weimar, and even stopped at a beautiful palace just outside the city:

We had a bite to eat there, and David grabbed the Soljanka we were supposed to share and made clear it was not to be shared. Oddly enough, this is one of his favorite foods:

The palace grounds were beautiful, and we spent our time there just wandering around outside:

David's favorite, of course, was walking up and down the palace stairs. (And up, and down, and up, and down...)

He also enjoyed standing up there, his personal stage, and telling us elaborate, very dramatic stories, often about a bumblebee. Or just surveying all that was his.

Once we got to the city itself, we did some more wandering and some more eating. (Very, very mediocre bratwurst, unfortunately.) We capped the afternoon off with MY favorite: Ice Cream!

Michael ordered a coffee-ice cream float (an eiscafe), we ordered David a scoop of mango ice cream, and I ordered the sundae that's named after the city--the Weimar.

I think it's safe to say I chose wisely. Michael chose poorly, and so I had to share the rewards of my wisdom.

David was VERY pleased with his own decision. He usually eats strawberry ice cream, which he calls "pink ice cream." (Don't offer him strawberry, he won't eat it.) This time, he did NOT want pink ice cream, so I suggested orange (mango.) Yes, orange ice cream, that was what he wanted. And he was right.

We had to wait a full half hour as David, slowly but surely, finished that scoop of mango ice cream. We had long since finished, and he was getting colder by the minute, but he was determined (and feisty!)

It was a great day.