Part III: Escape from Leuven

We woke up bright and early the next day, determined to retrieve the car and be on our swift way to the Black Forest.  After a somewhat rushed breakfast of pastries, coffee, water and pizza (a slice each for Paul and I), we arrived at the severely cramped parking garage and encountered our first obstacle of the day:  the parking ticket, which Dan had sworn was in the car, was nowhere to be found.  At that point, our vehicle had been enclosed for nearly 72 hours, and we were anxious to learn what the cost of this latest misfortune would be.
Luck proved to be on our side, thankfully:  the young attendant in the office was understanding, and Dan was presented with a replacement ticket reflecting the appropriate amount of hours, instead of the maximum fine that was expected and feared.  We drove merrily out of the garage, and on towards the Black Forest.

ARE WE THERE YET?

The drive to the Black Forest from Leuven was, according to Jamie, supposed to last approximately three hours.  As we drove into Luxembourg and towards France, however, we began to regret entrusting the gadget with the monumental responsibility of selecting our route.  Gas was running low, and in order to take advantage of American prices we would have to return to German soil (a savings of nearly $50, thanks to our Esso gas card).  Also, the French are notorious for their frequent tolls, which we encountered numerous times during our brief excursion into the country.
Unfortunately, we did have to stop for gas once before returning to Germany, and this, coupled with the tolls, frustrated Dan to no end.  He insisted on disabling the GPS and returning to Germany, immediately.  I brought out our maps and selected a favorable back-up route while Raul, Kathy and Kristi worked on pacifying Dan.

We had decided to continue on through France and were joyfully anticipating the cuckoo clocks and other wonders which awaited us in the Black Forest, until Jamie belatedly informed us of a missed exit, after which Dan unleashed a stream of highly justified curses.  We turned, reset the GPS (which was no longer worthy of a name), and relied on our map-reading skills to set us back on course.
By that time it was mid-afternoon, we were hungry, and the somber decision was made to bypass the Black Forest completely and continue on to a small German town nearby:  Sankt Wendel.  We arrived relatively quickly, and window-shopped, took photographs, and were generally touristy for a while before settling down and searching for a place to eat.  After an enjoyable meal of flammkuchen, schnitzel, wings, fries and spaghetti, we headed back to the parking garage (anxious to return before the 7pm closing time, which was duly noted and strictly adhered to).  
It was at this point that Dan handed me the keys to the car, and I got the opportunity to subject our guests to an authentic autobahn experience, one I'm not sure they fully appreciated.  Amid the screams from the backseat and retching from the front, I got the car and its occupants safely home, where we settled down for the night.

THE END, PLUS SOME

Our experiences in Munich, Vienna, and Dachau (Highlights:  eating at the Hofbräuhaus, visiting the Hofburg Imperial Apartments, and paying tribute at the concentration camp) were relatively tame compared to the beginning of our saga.  But they were just as monumental, and we were deeply saddened upon parting ways with Kathy, Kristi and Paul.
We miss you guys!

At the Hofbräuhaus in Munich