the Barossa Valley yesterday. My brother wanted to take his son-in-law to see some of South Australia's German heritage. His son-in-law comes from similar heritage and, as his father died before he was born, it is of even more importance to him than it might otherwise be. Of course there is also the attraction of any number of wineries.
My father, a teetotaller, is always rather uncomfortable in these places. He went to look at the construction of the building in one place, some art work in another.
As alcohol gives me a rash (and I do not care for the taste) my sister-in-law and I took the baby to see the two alpacas in the adjacent enclosure. I rather like alpacas. They are intelligent and usually curious. Provided that you are not foolish enough to try and pat them on the head they are generally prepared to be friendly. That proved to be the case.
We watched infant and alpaca in conversation and we looked down the valley. By Australian standards many of the buildings here are old. Some are deserted but others have been restored. The valley is dotted with small Lutheran churches and schools. Not so long ago services were still held in German. Some children still started school only speaking German. Even the television age made little difference to that. It was only increased internet access that changed all that.
In the event only two wineries were visited and only single bottles of something new and not, by Barossa standards, wildly expensive were bought. A "conversation" also took place between infant and alpaca. I wonder whether it was being conducted in a version of English, in German or Alpaca?