A drive back into the clouds, more snow and a huge cuckoo clock

Neither of us slept well, and then the beeping of the on site digger woke us rather rudely. It was cloudy, and a bit miserable, but we did our jobs, and then headed into the Black Forest.
The small roads were great fun to drive. They were in great condition, quiet and with some wonderful views.

Firstly we were heading to Feldberg. The road gradually led up into the mountains, through very lush woodland where we could see for miles. Gradually we began to see snow, and before we arrived at Feldberg, we had driven into the clouds, there was snow everywhere, and we found some ski slopes.
The road down the mountains took us to a lovely lake next to the wonderfully named Titisee, where we stopped for our picnic.

Further North we reached our destination of Triberg, where we quickly found another great car park, toilets, and the biggest cuckoo clock in the world (I am saying that last bit in my head with a gruff, low voice, trying to make it sound legendary).

The clock was above a shop which had hundreds of different cuckoo clocks for sale. It was an interesting place to see, but I could not quite decide if I would really want one; especially looking at the prices, and the very keen saleswoman.

We walked down the high street, and back up. There was not much else open, so after admiring the incredible stream that runs through the village, and our favourite car park of the holiday (so far), we headed out. This is a photo of the car park, next to the torrent of water, with a garden, benches and wooden "Easter Island" men. Why they are here in Triberg; is a mystery.

We tried to find another cuckoo clock at the next village, but with no luck. So we set off home.
The drive back was not as much fun, especially as we hit the rush hour. There was one road, which became so narrow the cars coming towards us got priority, and they did not stop; you just had to dive out and put your foot down. This same road became a dual carriageway later one. There was also a lot of traffic at the turn off for Mullhouse, with lots and lots of lorries queueing again to get across the French border.