Piešťany, Day Five. -- The seniors decided that some “team-building” was called for, and thus we all went to the hairdresser together. It worked a treat even if Sarah got a “backcombed do” I haven’t seen since the 1960s. -- The afternoon saw another four-hour (18 km) walk along the shore of Lake Slňava, this time on the East side. The temperatures were below zero, but we haven’t lived in Finland for nothing: no-one complained, and everyone was dressed appropriately. On the way back Sarah and I once more drank from the fountain of youth -- it tastes of rotten eggs. I don’t know what these famous “waters” do to my complexion, but my language has recently become more and more “pubertarian”: for instance, under the influence of my daughters I have started to classify most of my joyful actions as “megapeinlich” ( = really embarrassing).