Chapter 6 3 of Spades... It's strange to say that someone decorates the forest floor with stones in the mountains far away from the crowd...

When I woke up the next morning, I found that we had reached the village of Dürf.Dad was lying on the bed next to me, fast asleep.It's past eight o'clock, but I know Dad will sleep a little longer, because no matter how late it is, he always has a drink or two before bedtime.Only he called it a "little drink." In fact, once he drank, he would not stop drinking until he was happy. Looking out of the window, I saw a vast lake.I hurriedly dressed and ran downstairs.A stout woman came forward with an amiable manner.She wanted to strike up a conversation with me, but she didn't speak Norwegian.

She called me by my name "Hans Thomas" several times.Dad must have introduced me to her last night when he carried me upstairs in my sleep to my room.I don't know about other things. I walked across the lawn by the lake and came to a swing.This Alpine-style swing can swing so high that it almost exceeds the roof.As I swing, I browse the view of this small Alpine village, the higher I swing, the farther I see. I began to eagerly hope that Dad would wake up quickly.I bet he was hooked as soon as he saw the village of Dulph in broad daylight.The village of Dulf looks like a village in a fairy tale world.There are only a few narrow streets in the village, scattered with a few small shops.On both sides of the street are towering mountains that are covered with snow all the year round.I swing the swing into the sky, and it feels like looking down on a small village below me from a Lego world.The hotel was a three-story white house with pink-painted windows.Many small stained glass windows dot the entire roof.

I was playing on the swing by myself, and I was getting bored. At this time, my father came over and asked me to go in for breakfast. The dining room where we dined was probably the smallest in the world, with room for only four tables, and we, father and son, were the only guests.There is a large restaurant next door, but it is not open yet. I could tell Dad was guilty of oversleeping, so I took the opportunity to ask him to let me have a soda (ordinarily I drank milk) during breakfast.He immediately agreed to my request and ordered himself a drink called a viertel in German.The name sounds weird, but when Dad poured it into the glass, I suspected it was a red wine.Now I knew it in my mind: Dad didn't plan to drive on the road today, and we will continue our trip tomorrow.

: Dad said, we are staying in a GastLaus, which means "inn".Apart from the windows, the inn looked like any other hotel.The name of the inn is "Schoner Waldemar", and the lake in front is called "Waldemarsee".I suppose that both the inn and the lake are named after the man Huadema. "We were tricked by him, the dead father said suddenly after taking a few sips of wine. As soon as I heard it, I knew he was talking about the dwarf we met on the road.It seems that he is the man named Hua Dema. "Have we come full circle?" I asked. "Isn't it? The dwarf's place is as far away from Venice in kilometers as it is from here. In other words, "All the distance we've traveled since we asked him the way was for nothing." "

"Damn, how dare he play us!" I blurted out.Living with my father for so many years, I have learned some of his three-character classics for sailors. "I only have two weeks left on my vacation," continued Papa, "and besides, there's no guarantee that we'll meet your mother as soon as we get to Athens." "Then why don't we hit the road today?" I couldn't help asking.I am also anxious to find my mother just like my father. "How do you know we're not on the road today?" I didn't bother to answer his question, I just pointed to his cup called "Quarter".

Dad laughed.He laughed so loudly and earth-shatteringly that even the fat lady couldn't help laughing too, though she had no idea what we were talking about. "Son, we didn't get here until after one o'clock in the morning!" Dad said, "You should give me a day off." I shrugged.In fact, I have long been tired of driving every day, and I wish I could stay on the roadside city road for a day or two.I just don't believe that Dad will take advantage of this rare opportunity to take a good rest.I worry that he will waste another day drinking alcohol. Dad rummaged through our Fiat for a while and pulled out some luggage.

When we arrived here at midnight, he entered the inn with nothing but a toothbrush. After my father tidied up the car, he decided to take me for a hike.The fat lady at the inn told us that there was a mountain nearby with a very beautiful view, but it was almost noon now, and I am afraid we would not have enough time to climb up the mountain and then walk down. With an idea, Dad came up with a brilliant idea.For example, if you just want to walk down a high mountain and don't want to climb up, what should you do? Of course, you will ask people if there is a road leading to the top of the mountain.The fat lady at the inn told us that there is indeed a road leading to the top of the mountain, but if we drive up and go down the mountain, do we have to climb up the mountain to get the car? "We can hire a taxi to drive us up the mountain, and then Come down," Dad said, and we decided to do it.

The fat lady called a taxi for us.The driver thought we were out of our minds, but when he saw Dad take out a few Swiss franc notes and wave them in front of his eyes, he immediately agreed to take us up the mountain. Obviously, the fat lady is more familiar with the terrain in this area than the little man.Even though we come from mountainous Norway, neither Dad nor I have ever seen such a majestic and stunning mountain landscape. Looking down from the top of the mountain, the village of Dulf is just a cluster of small spots, while the Huadema Lake has become a small pond.It was midsummer now, and the wind on the mountain was icy cold.Dad said that where we are now, the altitude of any mountain in our hometown in Norway is much higher.

When I heard it, I felt awe.But Dad looked disappointed.He whispered to me that the purpose of his trip to Shansong was to see the Mediterranean Sea, but he never expected to see it.I know he even fantasized about seeing his mom in Greece. "When I was at sea for a living, I saw a completely different landscape," Dad said. "I stood on the deck all day, and I didn't see land in a long, long time." 'I tried to imagine what it was like. "I prefer that kind of life," Dad seemed to guess what I was thinking. "If I can't see the sea, I will feel very depressed."

We started walking down the hill.There are some tall and lush trees growing on both sides of the path.I vaguely smell the aroma of honey. On the way, we stopped in a field to rest our feet.I took out the magnifying glass that the little man had given me, while Dad sat by and smoked.I saw an ant crawling on a twig, but it wouldn't stop, so I couldn't look at it with a magnifying glass.So I had to shake the branch to shake it off, and then put the magnifying glass on the branch to observe.The magnified tree branch looks beautiful and charming, but it does not improve my understanding of the tree.

Suddenly, there was a rustling sound among the leaves.Dad thought there were bandits on the mountain, so he jumped up in fright and looked carefully—look, it turned out that it was frightened like an innocent roe deer.Since then, I have always imagined my father as a roe deer in my heart, but I never dared to say it to his face. Although Dad had a glass of wine at breakfast, he was in good spirits all morning. Our father and son ran all the way down the mountain until we saw piles of neatly arranged white stones in the woods, and then we stopped suddenly.These stones are round and smooth, there are hundreds of them in total, and none of them is bigger than a sugar cube. Dad stood still, scratching his head. "Did these stones grow?" I asked. Pa shook his head and said, "Hans Thomas, I think someone did it." "Isn't it a bit strange to decorate the forest floor with stones in the mountains away from the crowd?" I said. Dad didn't answer right away, but I knew he agreed with me. The most intolerable thing in my father's life is that he cannot give a reasonable explanation for what he has experienced.This kind of personality is a bit like the British detective Sherlock Holmes. "It looks like a cemetery here. Each small stone is allocated a space of several square centimeters..." I thought Papa would say that the people of Dulph Village buried Lego dolls here, but looking back—thought Papa wouldn't be so childish. "Perhaps the children buried the beetle here." Dad was puzzled, so he had to put forward such an opinion. "Maybe!" I squatted down and extended the magnifying glass to a rock. "But the beetles can't move those stones." Dad laughed quickly.He stretched out his arms and put them around my shoulders.So we, father and son, cuddled together and walked down the mountain, at a slower pace than before. Soon, we came to a cabin. "Do you want someone to live here?" I asked. "Of course." "How are you so sure?" Dad held out his hand and pointed to the chimney on the roof.I saw a wisp of cooking smoke curling up. There is a stream outside the house, and a water pipe sticks out of the water.We put our mouths to the hose and took a few sips of water.Dad called this pipe the water pump.