I don't really know where to begin. It's all been a bit crazy since I arrived, tired and sweaty, off the lovely (cough, splutter) Easy Jet flight from Edinburgh to Munich. I have to say, thoughts of "so...what if they're axe murderers...?" did pop into my head but I was warmly greeted by Veit (the father) at the gate and I felt a lot more comfortable trundling along in the big spacious car with the windows rolled down, being given a potted history of Munich by my employer/family member. It was a little nerve wracking to say the least when I arrived at their small but modern and bright house in Wolfratshausen. The boys pretty much ran away in fear but Magdalena (the mother, who is Spanish) greeted me warmly and it wasn't long before we
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