An amazing tranformation greeted us...
...as the ground floor was just being finalised. They were bolting the last ground floor wall unit to the other bits. For all the famed Huf Haus reputation for precision, we noted that a large muscle-bound German worker was busily twatting the top of the wall unit with a whopping great rubber mallet. Dunno what he was trying to accomplish, but after a few dozen thwacks, his colleague inserted a couple of bolts and then we were done. Brave lad, those blokes, 'cos they were comfortably stood on the top of the wall units with nowt more than bugger all to catch them if they fell.
Two window units remained on the truck, and we tried to figure out where they were destined... but all became clear when I moved to t'other side for a south-facing photo. The crane swung one of the Keller windows over, and (after some fitting) then t'other. So I guess everything below upper floor height was pretty much in place. If you look very carefully, you'll see even the window glass came pre-installed. And the whopping big sliding glass door we ordered for the lounge area was fully functioning. Must have been 'cos the German body-builder opened it up to move some stuff about.
We introduced ourselves to a couple of blokes that didn't seem to be doing anything. "Aha!", thinks I, "so there is such a thing as a German layabout." But when we talked to them, it turned out they were the drivers of the first two Huf Haus trucks. That's right, the whole ground floor (and two Keller windows) came on the back of just two trucks. Amazing. Even more amazing, these lads had spent the weekend living in a nearby Swiss layby so they would be present and correct on-site at 7am Monday morning, as stated on Page 44, Sub-section 6, Paragraph 2 of the Huf Haus Code of Honour manual. However, I was tipped off that there had been some sort of hiccup with the crane (it sank about a metre into the soft ground!) which had set 'em back two hours.
Two hours! Them Huf Haus people must have been contemplating handing out white feathers and pistols.
I asked one of the blokeys whether they'd at least found a half decent bar near their truck stop. "The bar in mein truck ist always open!", quoth he with a laugh. Man after me own heart.