If travel is searching, and home has been found...

I'm stopping. This is the last entry of my "travel blog." My trip is over. Even today, the beginning of routine has started to creep in.

Compare this picture of me with how I looked when I started. Except for the hair, pretty similiar, no?


The last day of the trip was mostly uneventful. Because of jet lag, I woke up early. C and I got on the road by 8, stopped for Dunkin' Donuts (my 5th trip to DD in the last 2.5 months: first at JFK, then twice in Berlin (where internet access is very conveniently offered) and then once in Manhattan) and got on the Merrrit. All the way to JFK. C pointed out to me some of the scenic bridges, as well as a poorly disguised cell phone pole. Said goodbye!

Got to the airport early.

Waited a couple of hours and read Devil in the White City (which gets more and more gruesome as it progresses) and got on the plane.

Plane ride involved reading, listening to my iPod and not talking to the guy next to me, who was annotating sheet music of religious hymns.

Rudy picked me up, not only on time, but early. Drove to my Dad's office. Drove to my parent's house to pick up my stuff. Drove home and first encountered my very ugly pile of mail, which includes such wonderful treats as a jury summons (which I long ago missed) and some shameful bank and credit card statements.

I was too irritated by my mail to call anybody or make Saturday night plans, but after a dinner of Bristol Farms sushi (just like how I used to before I left), I spent some relaxing time on the internet, read some letters (a nice surprise, especially having written so many while I was gone) and went to sleep early.

And that's my vacation to Europe!

And shouldn't I wrap the whole thing up?

Important Musical Influences

1. Phil Collins - Showed up everywhere. Always let me know that the positive sides of bland reality still existed and always made me feel comforted.

2. ABBA - Singing along to Waterloo with strangers on the beach in Cinqueterre made me friends. Singing Money Money in a restaurant in Strasbourg gave me fame. Heard Take a Chance on Me and Mama Mia somewhere else or another.

3. Robbie Williams - only in Krakow, but watching his videos non stop for a weekend couldn't help but leave an impression.

4. Silversun Pickups - The last show I saw in L.A. before I left, and whenever I didn't know what to put on my iPod, I'd always come back to their song "Kissing Families." I may want to look into the whole album later.

Nationalities of people I met on the trip

This may not be interesting to you, but it was interesting to ME. These are people that I met in countries outside of the one they lived. "Meeting" means having a conversation that got as far as "Where are you from?":
1. Albania
2. Argentina
3. Armenia (sort of)
4. Australia
5. Austria
6. Bosnia
7. Canada
8. China (born in China, but lived in Canada...does this count?)
9. Denmark
10. Finland
11. France
12. Germany
13. Hungary
14. Iceland
15. India
16. Iran
17. Ireland
18. Israel
19. Italy
20. Japan
21. South Korea
22. Luxembourg
23. Mexico
24. Netherlands
25. New Zealand
26. Norway
27. Peru
28. Portugal
29. Romania
30. South Africa
31. Spain
32. Sweden
33. Switzerland
34. UK
35. U.S.
36. Scotland

Special Thanks to These Guys for Providing Relevant Titles!:
The Fiery Furnaces, Bjork, The Smiths, The Who, Morrissey, The Talking Heads, The Decemberists, The Beach Boys, R.E.M., Weird Al, The Magnetic Fields, Jonathan Richman, The Go-Gos, Bob Dylan, B-52s, Pulp, Pixies, The Police, Camera Obscura, Eddie Money, Belle and Sebastian, Sugarhill Gang, The Jefferson Airplane, Arlo Guthrie, They Might Be Giants, Hedwig and the Angry Inch, U2, The Eagles, Joni Mitchell, Joe Dassin, Leonard Cohen and finally, Billy Bragg.

And I apologize for the extremely lame "stretch" titles I had to give some because I couldn't think of a relevant song.

Also, thanks to:

1. The extremely friendly people working at Il Chiostro Bed and Breakfast in Naples who were amazingly kind in a country full of not so kind people

2. the woman at the post office in Naples who translated for me with the clerk who was screaming at me

3. the guy working at the post office in Naples who despite being no actual help (not his fault) did the best he could and was friendly and polite

4. the owners of the Domus Guesthouse in Reykjavik who were friendly, helpful and gave me some discounts they did not have to give

5. The Canadians I met in Reykjavik running the marathon for Team Diabetes who invited me to eat with them on my first day in Iceland

6. The guy at the gas station in the middle of nowhere in iceland who gave me an extremely good and overpriced map for free because he could see I was lost

7. The couple from Geneva who gave me and Tara a bowl of soup in the hostel in Hvol.

8. The guy who gave me a discount on pasta in Nice.

9. The internet cafe guy who let me use the phone and internet for free to cancel my credit cards after being robbed in that same cafe.

10. The woman from the Roman catacombs that let me ride in her cab back to town when I had almost no money.

11. Mark from the hostel in Budapest who gave me a great music magazine to read on the train and was super friendly, unlike the other staff.

12. The hostel in Krakow that accepted credit cards, even though the price per night was very low.

13. Alice's family for taking such good care of me. Really.

14. Sarah and her friends in Germany for taking equally good care of me. There's nothing like accomodating a 4th in an apartment barely squeezing in 3. And for directing me around town, showing me the cool stuff and helping me to navigate the U-bahn.

15. Jannes' and his friend in Berlin who invited me over for pasta and wine. Delicious.

16. The girl working at the hostel in Heidelberg for being possibly the first person working anywhere in Europe to laugh at any one of my jokes, or make her own jokes (with the exception of the owner, Peter, of the Domus Guesthouse in Reykjavik, who made tons of jokes.) Gave me and Angela good suggestions for food and what to do in town.

17. The bicycle salesman in Colmar who appreciated the Beach Boys.

18. Eva and her boyfriend in Reykjavik for showing me an amazing time.

19. Julien and his mom for providing me with a terrific place to stay, food, places to go and the best time ever in Paris.

20. My brother (and his roommate) for putting up with me and my irregular hours in NYC.

21. Colleen and Mk for providing, movie, lodging and entertainment for a night in New Haven. Thanks for capping it all off, guys! (And enjoy the rest of that anchovy pizza...)

22. My roommate Adam for mailing my ATM card to Paris, emailing me my Credit card PIN and telling me the balance and account number on my stupid Banana Republic credit card account. I've already thanked hiim in person though. Wow.

23. Julien again, for attempting to get me my ATM card in Naples, and failing that making sure that it was in Paris by the time I arrived. Probably saved me well over 100 dollars doing that.

24. Every bank that gave cash advances on credit cards, especially the one in Budapest that was both friendly AND helpful (this was after hours of going from bank to bank without luck).

25. Everybody who invited me to join them when I sat alone somewhere, notably pubs in Strasbourg, Dubrovnik, Cinqueterre, Nice...

25. My parents, for providing a lot of emergency money and not emergency support when I was in trouble and not in trouble.

27. God, for inspiring centuries of slaving Europeans to build all those cathedrals and synagogues.

28. Anybody I forgot.

But have I changed?

And what does it all mean?

I probably lost some weight. Definitely got into much better shape, especially after 2 months of studying for the bar. I know a lot more about Europe, and have a much better idea of where I would want to go if I were to go again. I learned about what sorts of people are "out there" and what kinds really aren't. I learned that on foot even the smallest city can seem fairly large. I learned that I can handle more physical abuse than I had imagined (more like exhaustion, not being beat with sticks -- although I DID win both a wrestle and an arm wrestle in Budapest, with scars to prove it). Having had such a concentrated period of rich experiences, I find ordinary life much easier to accept. I don't feel so much that I'm missing anything, because I have already seen so much. I confirmed my fears over the past year that I can handle quite a bit of time alone.

Maybe I'll update again if something comes up relevant to my trip that I believe warrants remembering forever.

And if not, goodbye!

I don't want to change the world, I'm not looking for a New England

I'm actually home now, sitting in my apartment. it's all over.

But I write about yesterday, not today, right? If all goes as planned, tomorrow's entry about my journey home will be the last. I've had all sorts of grand plans about "wrapping it all up" but who knows if I will have the patience or the energy to do so.

Yesterday ended my short but very socially productive visit to NY. In 2 and a half days I managed to see 7 friends, not counting spending time also with my brother (who I stayed with) and parents (who were visiting). I pat myself on the back, even if that meant cutting most interactions shorter than I would have liked.

Yesterday's was the last of NY. I met up for breakfast in Chelsea with Alex, a girl I met in Dubrovnik. I most elegantly brought along my large backpack as I would be leaving soon for Grand Central Station (to take me to New Haven.) We had a nice conversation over eggs and coffee, but I never repeat the content of actual conversations here, do I? Fortunately, as I had already returned my brother's roommate's very useful map fo Manhattan, Alex walked me to the train station and I was able on my own (with Colleen's very specific and helpful instructions) catch the proper train to Westport.

C had warned me that I would be disappointed by this year's autumn leaf colors in New England. But how wrong she was! While I spent most of the train ride concentrating on Devil in the White City (which keeps on getting better), the view of orange and red trees and the window was a nice contrast to the not so colorful autumn I observed in Europe and would observe in LaLa.

But all worked out well. She was at the train station not only on time but early and drove me (dodging past slow drivers in the left hand lane) along the Merritt Parkway. Which was even more stunning than the train ride (which had included some not so pretty scenery too). I got a quick tour of Westport and then New Haven, where I had not been in 9 years.

Being that I was quite hungry, and that New Haven is famous for its pizza, I made an exception to my general "no pizza" rule (unless it's free) and ate about half of a medium pizza at Modern Pizza. It was GOOOD especially as it had spicy peppers and anchovies, both toppings almost impossible to find on either 1) single slice servings of pizza or 2) free pizza, which is about all I ever eat. And a beer pint for just over 3 dollars! I haven't seen that since I left home, that's for sure!

Pizza was followed by movietime back at C and Mk's apartment. We watched Batman Begins, which was perfect, as it was a movie I had specifically wanted to see. With the exception of Amorres Perros on Alice's computer screen in Warsaw, I hadn't seen a movie since Red Eye, the night before I left. Which was terrible. Batman Begins was great, even if it shared an actor in common with Red Eye (Cillian Murphy).

C, Mk, another friend of theirs and I then went to Karaoke. I didn't sing, BUT Phil Collins reminded me that he is still watching over my trip! 2 dudes did a fabulous version of Phil Collins and Philip Bailey's "Easy Lover", one of my favorite songs when I was 6 years old or so. I had been half intending on doing karaoke at SOME point during the trip, but the opportunity never came up. Besides, with the exception of one exceptional night walking around in Cinqueterre, I haven't heard my own singing voice in long enough to trust it in front of strangers. Also, sadly for me, I didn't really get to enjoy the 1 dollar bud lights the bar was serving, because I was too tired from jet lag to have any. Boo.

The night was finished off with Rudy's, a New Haven bar I have heard so much about. I broke another of my dietary rules: no French Fries. They just smelled and looked so good. I couldn't resist enjoying more than my fair share of Rudy's Frites. Now remember, I don't not eat these things because they are unhealthy -- we've already seen me eat my weight in wurst, eisbein, candy, pain au chocolat and hot dogs. French Fries and Pizza just consistently make my stomach hurt later. Which they did. But i don't mind, because they were both unusually good yesterday.

And that was New Haven. Lunch, a movie, a few drinks, karaoke and another bar. I did see Yale and a notable cemetery from the outside. But how much can you do in fewer than 24 hours?

The streets are paved with diamonds and there's just so much to see, but the best thing about New York City is you and me

I feel some regret for not scheduling at least a few more days in New York City. Unlike during my last visit here less than a year ago where I had the sad realization that I had very few remaining friends in NYC, this trip's lesson was that in fact, I have more than enough. Strange how a few key migrations and added acquaintances can completely change the nature of a city as it relates to me, but so be it.

Ironically (is this the correct word?) I spent the morning with my parents (who are visiting NYC this week), eating at Dean and Deluca's and delivering my brother his cell phone.

Mom and Dad walked me to Washington Square Park, near NYU law school where I met up with Alex. Her slight lateness allowed me to begin Devil in the White City, which promises to be very good. I just haven't had the chance yet to really dig into it. Hopefully I won't be too tired on the air flight home tomorrow (!!!)

She showed me around Greenwich Village a bit, including an amazing rooftop view and we had sandwiches and salad somewhere around town. Followed by an ice cream, a walk to one of the piers (unusually pretty day, amazing how cold it got by the evening), and then another cafe for coffee.

Took a somewhat confusing walk to around Union Square where I met up with Mona at 119 Bar, which in the true spirit of my trip's other coincidences was the same bar my brother took me Tuesday night. We then caught a subway to Williamsburg, to another bar, where we drew on coasters, were misidentified by the bartender as guests of last week, and met up with her sister. This was followed by me consuming the largest pumpernickel bagel I've ever had, which made me feel slightly sick, and then walking to a nearby music venue (North Six) to see the Mae Shi play. We hung out at the bar there for a bit, talked briefly with Jeff and Tim and then Mona left and her sister and I went to see the show. The last time I had seen them, I thought they were only okay, but this time I was quite impressed. I don't know if it is because of the mood I was in, or the nature of the venue (probably not, as Spaceland is just as hipstery as North Six was), the sound (most likely -- last time it was so loud I could barely hear what was going on, and this time the sound was perfect) or because the band just got better. Regardless, I enjoyed it.

Took the subway home (early still, only around midnight) and fell asleep quickly, as I have not yet adjusted to Eastern Time. Adjusting to Pacific Time starting tomorrow will be no great pleasure.

New York is cold, but I like where I'm living

Actually, it isn't cold at all until night. During the day, I have found it too warm for even my light jacket.

For several years, I thought I was in love with New York or at least I loved it very much. And perhaps, I love it still. Yet, something about my experience today made me feel less excited, less enchanted by the U.S.A.'s greatest city. All the great sights and food and oh so very interesting people are still here, yet I feel just a tiny, bit less excited about it.

But why?

1. The subway system just isn't THAT great. Compared to Paris' Metro where there is an appropriate stop for every desirable location, NY's stops are few and far between. The stops are poorly marked (compared to stops in Europe,) the stations are dirty. Inside the cars are typically two maps of the subway system, with no overhead map noting the upcoming stops on the line.

2. The streets are much dirtier than I remember. Sure, I love grit and all, but there is no need for SO much gum to be stuck to everything.

3. I didn't find it as easy to find cheap egg sandwiches as I recalled it to be.

4. People have way more attitude than they ought to have.

I guess that's it. I suppose there is no reason to be disappointed. The other big problem is that because of the jet lag I am waking up way too early and hitting the streets when they are full of people commuting to work (boring!) and getting tired early and missing much of the nightlife.

Yesterday I accomplished much more than I had planned, and for this I am glad.

I was unable to make any plans for the morning (understandable considering everybody works!) so got myself a Dunkin Donuts coffee and donut (hooray! Back in America! (although I must admit, I DID have a few of those in Berlin too)), bought Devil in the White City from a nearby Barnes and Noble (as it had been recommended to me at a Silversun Pickups show right before I left L.A.) and had breakfast at Katz's Deli in the Lower East Side. Hooray for Reuben sandwiches!

From the Lower East Side I walked all the way up to Columbia to meet Cal for lunch. This walk took about 2 and a half hours. In honor of my 100 block walk on Thanksgiving with Sean in NY 7 years ago, I thought it would be fun to do something similar. 7-8 miles later, I was surprisingly sore.

Lunch was good. Haven't seen Cal since December and we had plenty to talk about. I visited his office at Columbia and met some of his fellow grad students.

I spent a few hours on the Columbia campus just walking around and relaxing, mostly talking on the phone. It was a much more pleasant than I had remembered it being 8 years ago, the last time I was there.

Took a subway down to the East Village to meet up with Matt, told him about my trip, caught up on our lives, retold stories of our cross country road trips and had dinner at a Venezuelan place in the neighborhood. This was followed by a sake bar called Decibel where we met up with Patrick, who is now a lawyer.

Fortunately, they couldn't stay out super late (because of work and school) because I was extremely tired by midnight and fell asleep soon afterwards.

The endless streets I walk along, you made them seem pretty, but now I dream in country songs and wake in New York City

Back to the States! Julien kindly drove me to the (not so) wonderful Charles de Gaulle airport, we said our goodbyes, I waited in some lines, I used my last euro coins to purchase a sandwich and off I was!

For approximately 7 hours in the sky with nothing to do but listen to my iPod, nap, finish Persuasion (I liked Northanger Abbey better) and talk to the woman at my left about the joys of travelling and her experiences sailing across both the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans.

This was my first time on an aeroplane since flying to London from Iceland and I recalled why I hate them so much. Not so much the fear of crashing but the confinement and the constant regulation. Metal detectors, safety instructions, parking, arriving at the gate early, customs, expense, long passages between the ticket counter and the gate. Even the most complicated train stations were usually more conveniently located than airports and permitted one to literally "hop on" just as the doors were closing. Usually, trains don't have assigned seating, so I don't get stuck in the back as I ALWAYS do on trains. Yuck.

At least the view out the window of Newfoundland was pretty.

Arriving safely in NYC at 3:45 in the afternoon, I discovered the joy of using the subway to get from JFK to Manhattan. I have always been a light packer yet have also always blown way more money than I should on cabs. For only 7 dollars, I took the Airtrain and the subway to my brother's apartment in not much over an hour.

And wasn't it good to reunite with family? Rob and I had a delicious dinner at some place where he used to work (I ate grasshopper tacos, simultaneously satisfying my urge for Mexican food and something extremely exotic) and then a beer and then some cupcakes before meeting up with my parents who are conveniently visiting NYC at the same time as me!

au soleil, sous la pluie, a midi ou a minuit

For my last full day in Paris! Yet by no means the end of the trip. Remember, friends, (and myself someday in the future) there are 5 more days of the trip, spent mostly in New York City. Halloween day and night were my last chance to enjoy Paris for what will likely be a long, long time. And I repeat: I am again surprised by how much I love Paris. If only I spoke French! But actually, I probably learned about 10-15 words of French while I was there, which is much more than I can say for everywhere else in Europe I visited. Perhaps the explanation for this is Julien, who would readily answer any questions I had about the city.

I may have mentioned that for this trip, I had no definite plans to go to any museums in Paris. I visited the Louvre and the Musee d'Orsee when I visited 5 years ago, and felt this time that it would be better to enjoy more of the city itself, strolling down the boulevards, etc.

But on Halloween I decided to go to the Georges Pompidou center, considered by some to be the finest collection of modern art in Europe!!! It was fortunate that the museum I had chosen was the only open one in town. Why do I keep forgetting that everything is closed on Monday. I'm not exactly sure what I was looking for in this museum, but I waited through three fairly long lines (listening to my iPod and reading Persuasion) until I entered the special exhibit on the Dada art movement. Lest anyone forget (and I welcome you to forget that I just used the word "lest") I was slightly obsessed with the Dada artist Man Ray while attending University. So, yes, I very much enjoyed seeing so much of his works (including the short film Return to Reason), as well as some by Picabia, Duchamp and Arp. The exhibit was organized into a large grid, where one could walk from one room to any adjacent. This allowed a free flow of people throughout the exhibit without creating that "lost in the museum" feeling I often get when there is no clear top down organization. One of my favorite rooms was that called "Dada Sounds", where bizarre music and voice compositions played, while museum guests entered, responded and exited.

I had PLANNED on eating lunch at the museum cafe on the 6th floor as it looked SUPER cool, but despite this being my last day, 30 euro plates and 15 euro drinks were enough reason for me to lose interest. I walked down through the Marais neighborhood (again...I liked it!) and found a cafe restaurant where I could enjoy a pate sandwich, a salad (the people next to me liked the looks of it so much they asked what it was) and a small pitcher of wine.

This left me enough time to wander over to the Île de la Cité for a final visit to Notre Dame Cathedral. I sat down in the second to front row where I could contemplate the rose windows to my left and right and maybe, just maybe reflect on the end of my trip. Before long, I somehow caught the attention of a priest who was slowly passing by. He asked me if I spoke English, a question which (naturally) led to a conversation about nice things like God, Jesus, Mary, Salvation and Baptism. I was inspired enough to stay until first vespers, beginning All Saint's Day. I enjoyed the incense and the prayers in both French and Latin, especially in as awesome a cathedral.

I made it back to Julien's place in time for a shower, some internet checking and dinner with him and his mom. I should note that everytime I ate at Julien's house his mom presented a selection of cheeses to eat after dinner. This made me happy.

A few nights before, Blanca and I had decided that it would be nice to meet up before I left for NY, so Julien and I went to her neighborhood and hung out with her, her boyfriend and a Quebecois who had once taken a bike across Canada. Blanca and I caught up on our lives between age 18 and 25 (much has happened to both of us) and she and Julien played "the name game." Also, her cat scratched my neck while jumping from the floor to the top of a door. I was more impressed by this feat of leaping than hurt by the scratch. As expected, it was good to see Blanca after so many years and to reconnect.

Julien and I stopped at one more bar to chat and wrap up the trip. More than occasional Halloweeners passed us in the streets, often with face makeup and witch hats.

Is that it? A beer? A cabride home? Goodbye Europe?

with the roar of cars and the lulling of the cafe bars the sweetly sleeping sweeping of the Seine, lord I don't know if i'll ever be back again

I woke up yesterday morning after the party in a dark bedroom and looked at my watch. To my horror, it was already 11:30! Fortunately, after I stumbled into the den and started talking to another just waking guest, I learned that we had gained an hour over night.

I took advantage of this unnaturally bright morning in rural France to explore Nico's yard, which appeared much bigger at night than during the day. I realized that the darkness behind a first row of trees led to a few acres of agriculture! I only know that some of what was grown was radishes (because we ate them the night before), but otherwise it was all a mystery. I saw the "old house", still on the property, built 200 years ago, a goose, some chickens and some hay.

When people tell me that they live in "the countryside", I usually don't believe them. I assume they are describing their neighborhoods so because in comparison to Los Angeles, they are accustomed to significantly less development. But usually I expect something more or less suburban. When we got in the car to drive back to Troyes, I saw that we had spent the night in a tiny village of old buildings, a historically designated church, surrounded by farmland.

Unfortunately, the next train to Paris was at 12:20 and there would not be another until 3:45, so I decided to take the former with L, one of Claire's friends that I had heard much about in L.A. before actually meeting her two nights ago. This was to be the final train ride of my trip. I was glad to have company, because otherwise I might have felt sad.

I met up with Julien and Nicholas around Tour Marbourg and visited with their friend Marie, who was taking a short break from studying philosophy. We listened to Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band while eating falafel sandwiches and talking about how bad a recent French movie was, that none of us had seen.

Last night, Julien took me to the Pop In, a great bar where he used to work (and where Nicholas currently works.) Here, i was able to use real life examples to make clear the definition of the work "hipster", which I had taught him a few nights before. I really enjoyed this bar. We have ones like it in L.A., but never this happening on a Sunday night. Of course, I was also made much more comfortable that for an hour they were playing a Smiths compilation.

I also heard a lot of English, both American style and U.K. I wondered whether this was because this was a bar very popular with English speakers or if there are so many visitors in Paris at any time that there are bound to be some in any good bar. Hmmmmmm....

Be we in Paris or in Lansing, it Doesn't Matter When We're Dancing

During the month of June 2005, I had 2 French roommates named Claire and Nico. While they sadly left soon after July 4th, they invited me to visit them in Troyes when I came to France. And this I did.

Little did I realize that they did not live in Troyes proper, but in a tiny village outside! And a good surprise it was. I took a train to Troyes yesterday afternoon and watched as they prepared dinner and drinks for a party of about 20 friends they made growing up. This was a striking change in scenery from Paris. It felt far from the city (I could see the stars) and I could vaguely smell trees. Dinner was a delicious stew of sausage, pork stomach and some other unidentified forms of pork and beans which I saw go from raw to steaming hot and delicious. I maybe ate too much, because I felt fool even when I woke up.

There wasn't any actual dancing, but it was an excellent party. Only a few of the Troyens spoke any English, but I had a few "conversations" with those that didn't by using the handful of French words I've learned these weeks, the handful of English words they knew and the old favorite: hand signals!

Claire and I recalled the old days of being roommates. She remembered some funny stories that involved me that I had completely forgotten. That's what friends are for, right?

I played a game called Badaboum! that involved stacking oddly shaped wooden blocks upon each other. On the box (from the early 1980s at least) was a picture of a very awkward looking family. The father's mustache was hilarious. Made me wish i had mine back again.

Later in the evening, Nico invited me downstairs with his other friends to his father's wine cellar. And he offered me a glass of wine from 1986! Quite good, only I wish it had been my FIRST glass of wine rather than my last. Soon afterwards I went into my bedroom to get something out of my backpack and fell asleep. When I woke up again at 4:30 to find the party still bumping, I felt embarassed when everyone saw me.

Earlier in the day, I took the Metro to La Marais for lunch at a Jewish bakery (pastrami sandwich!). I had had a slow day, tired from the night before. Julian and I had slept at his friend's house, and took the Metro home at around 9 in the morning. After getting a few more hours of sleep, a pain au chocolat and some quality time on the internet, it was well into the afternoon. La Marais was a good place to go then, just to chill out and do some oh-so-refreshing walking.

I'm glad I got to go to a party in the countryside. One thing my trip has somewhat lacked is non-touristy interaction with local people. This was not a problem in Paris or in Poland (and that weekend in Reykjavik with Eva), but still thank you Claire and Nico for having me over!

And again, that dinner was super.

Now hear the boys singing Bee Gees songs under the skies, And on the steps of Montmartre they harmonise

First the most shocking thing to happen yesterday:

I was sitting outside at a bar with Julian and his friend Nicholas when a girl comes up to me and in French asks me if I am from the United States. I vaguely get a sense of what she means, so say yes. She switches to English and informs me that she is Blanca, the French girl who lived with my aunt and uncle for a summer in 1998. If I recall properly, she stayed with my family too for about a week or a weekend. I hadn't seen or heard from her or any reason to believe that I would, especially since 1998 was before email because nearly universal.

I was shocked. This was even more shock than when I saw three law school acquaintances in one day in Cinqueterre or when I saw the same girls again in Rome and Warsaw. Or when I saw that guy again in Chamonix. This outdid all previously experienced shock. She now lives upstairs across the street from the bar we were at and was celebrating her boyfriend's birthday with a bunch of their friends. We exchanged information and I think will try to get in touch before I go. Bizarre.

Yesterday morning, I took a train to Chartres (made the train by about 2 minutes, running through the station) to view the cathedral. The cathedral was worth seeing, and because it is probably one of the very last cathedrals I see on this trip, I spent more time than I usually do. Instead of just racing up to the top, racing down and doing a quick round of the interior, I sat up on the top for about 20 minutes taking in the (yes, again) "breathtaking view" of the town. Some Japanese tourists smiled at me.

Downstairs, inside the cathedral, I sat for about half an hour, admiring the stained glass windows (especially the Blue Virgin) and repeating empty Hail Mary's in my head.

For lunch, I spent an hour searching the town (which itself was a disppointment - B-O-R-I-N-G!!!) for the most "typical" restaurant. I found a good one, and had an entree (which in French means appetizer!) of herring and main course of tripe. I've had a lot of tripe on my European vacation, and have decided that in L.A. I hadn't given it a fair shot. True, I occasionally get tripe at taco stands, but when prepared properly for dinner it can be surprisingly good!

I slept on the train ride back to Paris, listening to DJ Earworm mashups of the Scissor Sisters, Fischerspooner, George Michael, the Eurythmics, Avenue D, and Depeche Mode. Although I was half asleep, it made me want to dance.

Metro to Montmartre. Ran up the steps, toured the Sacre Couer church. Sat on the steps for a few minutes staring down at Paris for one last time...

Walked all over the Montmartre area, which was more touristy than I had imagined, but also really good. Paris is mostly flat, so it was fun for me to walk up and down hills as I would (and will be doing all too soon) back home. I walked down the kind of disgusting Clichy street, which is lined with mostly porno theatres (with very aggressive door people who try to physically pull in anybody who as much as glances at the very attention grabbing advertisements), past the Montmartre cemetery (closed) and back up the hill to meet Julian at the Place du Tertre.

We had an unexceptional dinner at the bottom of the hill but then walked to a much cooler bar (I heard "Gut Feeling" from Devo) and met up with his friend. And I ran into Blanca.

Later went to an even better bar, which although a bit too smoky, had great music and people watching. Made me all the less envious of the L.A. scene.

Again, a great day.

If You Don't Think Paris Was Made for Love, Maybe Your Heart Needs a Telegram From Up Above

I have found it surprising how much I love Paris, (or at least "like it very much, as a friend") considering I'm not much one for "romantic" cities. When I got off the train 5 years ago when I visited for the first time, I was almost immediately enchanted, even though my expectations were very low. I had a similar, although not quite as intense experience two days when I explored by foot many of the touristy areas of Paree. Why? How is Paris able to make me feel that special feeling when a city like Venice was not? I think part of the reason is that while Paris is appropriately reputed to be all about love, it also idolizes reason and order, as demonstrated by the street layout. I got so excited by the wide boulevards, circles and squares that made so much sense. With my Paris Nord to Sud guide, I never got lost!

I saw so much on Thursday and WALKED so much, it's hard to say much meaningful about each individual place.

1. The Eiffel Tower - The last time I went up the Eiffel Tower was when I was 20 years old. I have a picture from that visit, taken by one of two Italian girls I met up there asking me to take their picture. You can see in my face that I'm about to explode with joy. This trip I was not QUITE as enthusiastic, as I have had SO many "breathtaking views" from the tops of cities, but still the combination of nostalgia, collective excitement from the other tourists who reached the very top and the thrill of seeing all of Paris simultaneously is worth mentioning.

2. Arc de Triomphe - Bigger than I had expected or remembered from last time!

3. Champs Elysee - Of course, just like last time, I couldn't help humming the song to myself as I walked. Unlike last time, I didn't stop in the Virgin Megastore to buy Radiohead's Kid A which had just come out.

4. Jardins des Tuileries - Relaxing walk. I stopped at a cafe for an espresso and pulled out one of the few blank pieces of paper I had and began mapping out my trip to NY.

5. The Louvre - I decided to skip the Louvre. Controversial decision, I know. But I went last time and I found it overwhelming. It takes hours and hours, I've already been to a million museums and it was too beautiful a day to get stuck inside. I walked past the outside though.

6. The Opera House - I didn't want to pay to go in to where they keep the cool stuff, but I walked in and saw statues of some all time famous composers like Gluck. I sat on some stairs and poured over maps.

7. Le Marais - Paris' Jewish and gay neighborhood (kind of like West Hollywood, eh?) Really liked it. I plan on going back if I can. Stores selling cheese and sausage and wine! Smaller streets. Some enticing and not too expensive restaurants. Place de Vosges, where I sat on a park bench for about 45 minutes not moving, next to another guy also not moving. This day involved too much walking, so I was pretty worn out at this point.

8. (Metro to) Pigalle to meet Julian at a great bar/cafe whose name I cannot remember but had a chandalier made of wine bottles. I read a bit of Persuasion before he got there. We talked about our days.

9. A fondue place (don't know the name) - Extremely close sitting which forces both physical and social contact with one's neighbors (which I like.) We talked to two English folks teaching in France. The cheese fondue was good, and my stomach was able to handle it because of the wonderful pills that I brought from home. The wine was served in baby bottles. I had never seen such a thing.

A Free Man in Paris

I felt unfettered and alive.

I'm not one much for palaces. I've seen a few on this trip, notably the one at Wilanow in Warsaw, but I felt that my trip to Paris would be incomplete without a visit to Versailles. Yeah, yeah, Louix XIV isn't exactly my type of king, but you can't criticize it until you see it, right?

It wasn't so bad after all! Julien's mom drove me there (very nice of her) and I had a great time with the audio tour, checking myself out in the Hall of Mirrors (those who know how much I love mirrors should only imagine...) and I actually thought some of the rooms were more "majestic" than "obnoxious."

The real gem of the Versailles palace was the garden. Again, I'm not a huge fan of gardens. Usually when I go to carefully arranged gardens I think, "uh...so it's a forest where the trees are arranged in parallel lines". But this was different! For one, the size. First, the Versailles gardens are HUGE. I walked through them for at least an hour (quickly) and only caught a small bit. Secondly, something about the order of it, the straight and diagonal lines, the cruciform canals, made me feel good. Looking straight down the canal and immediately sensing the order of the whole area was comforting without taking away from the grandeur of the place.

I spent the time listening to DJ Danger Mouse's "Grey Album", which mixes up the Beatles' White album and Jay-z's Black album. I rarely listen to it in its entirety, but it was super, super good. Maybe I DON'T hate all hip hop! This was followed by some Magnetic Fields.

Got back to Paris and did as much as I could around town before meeting up with Julian at 6:30 in Place du Sorbonne.

1. Sainte Chapelle - When I was 20 years old, I came to Paris for a week during the fall break granted to UCL students. I had taken AP Art History at Harvard-Westlake only 3 years before, so the image of Sainte Chapelle and its stained glass windows was still fresh in my mind. I was so excited about being there, that I attempted to take a picture of myself with the stained glass windows in the background, using my disposable camera. Unfortunately, the picture came out super bad. On my return, as a hardened 25 year old, I spent a few minutes with my digital camera making sure that I had something at least slightly more presentable. this time I gave much more attention to the details of the stained glass than I did last time. Each panel uses a completely different scheme as that adjacent to it! Who knew!?

2. Notre Dame Cathedral - I saw the exterior of Notre Dame 5 years ago. I believe I may have been walking with Kate at the time, but I am not sure. More importantly, I did not go inside until yesterday. And I had missed so much! The place totally scared me! Wikipedia calls it "the finest example of French gothic architecture." Sure, why not? There was much more to see than was possible in the 20 or so minutes that I spent inside. I'm angry though, because the tower was closed so I didn't get to go up and see the gargoygles. Which reminds me that I think the whole "low season" in Europe thing is EXTREMELY lame. They say it is "low season" so they don't have as many people working or as many buses running or places don't stay open as long so stuff is just as crowded and inconvenient as it would have been in high season. My stupid bus from Dubrovnik to Split ran half as frequently as the Let's Go book predicted because of "low season" (except the streets of Dubrovnik were FULL of people) and I had to take a later bus because the next one was full! The tower to Notre Dame was closed because of not enough staff, even though there was a huge line of people to see it! And it costs along the lines of 3 or 4 euros per person for the right to climb some steps. I don't get it. The demand is there. France has an unemployment problem. Why not hire a few more people? It probably takes about 2-4 tourist entry fares to pay for an extra employee!

3. The Pantheon and Foucault's Pendulum - After having recently completed Umberto Eco's Foucault's Pendulum, I couldn't help but visit Paris' Pantheon where it is now housed (in the book it was in the Conservatoire National des Arts et Métiers but it was moved in 1995). I didn't find it as philosophically significant as the narrator, but it was pretty neat to have the earth's rotation proved right in front of me! Underground the Pantheon is a crypt containing a bunch of dead famous French dudes like Voltaire and Marie Curie who wasn't French, but was super cool (and I think I did a report on her in elementary school.)

4. The Place du Sorbonne - where I had a beer and a water (it is amazingly hard to stay properly hydrated in Europe when water costs 2.50 euro for 50 cL.

We went for sushi (first time I've had sushi since L.A.) and then to a bar to discuss everything.

A nice day and a nice night. That's how I like it, right? Sightseeing during the day and dinner and drinks at night. Why can't life be like that all the time!?

Before you left your garrison you'd had a drink maybe two, you don't remember Paris, hon, but it remembers you

Remember how in Cinqueterre I ran into three people I know from law school? Remember also how I met two girls there that I ran into again in Rome? And then ran into them again in Warsaw?

Yesterday in Chamonix, while leaving my hostel I ran into this Australian guy that I had met in the same hostel in Cinqueterre! Seems that he is now working in Nice and was up in Chamonix for a visit. Again goes to prove that people one does not expect to reappear will do exactly that. We talked for 5-10 minutes and I used words like "flabbergasted" and "shocked" and "gosh!" but no matter how much I shook my head, the moment could not be explained with satisfaction.

I had an espresso in town and realized that unfortunately, when I return to L.A., I will at least temporarily become one of those jerks who complain about "how hard it is to get a decent coffee in America."

Within seconds of getting on the train to St. Gervais, I realized that I was much more dehydrated than I would safely have planned to be. I drank the remainder of my magnesium enriched bottle of water but knew that without more and soon my approaching headache and sickish feeling in my stomach would not get better.

I had to resort to drinking the water on the train, happily labeled "do not drink". After a few centiliters of this, and an extremely overpriced bottle of Vittel at the next station (and more "do not drink" water on the next train) I felt fine. Disaster averted. Phew!

On the rapid train from Annecy (where I happily checked my email) to Paris I sat next to a French dude who upon realizing that I was American informed me that he had lived for two years near Century City! I was intrigued. "Where exactly?!" and "why!?," I asked. This led to more questions. It turns out that this guy had gone to law school in France, had completed an L.L.M. at B.U. law school and had just taken the New York state bar exam in July. We exchanged stories about taking the bar (the word "sucked" was used repeatedly) and tried half successfully to recall the meaning of terms like "fee simple," "piercing the corporate veil" and "burden on interstate commerce."

I arrived happily in Paris (although not happy to again shoulder my travel bag, which had just become one book heavier -- join the pile, Umberto!) and found my way with amazing grace and ease to Julien's apartment. I know Julien from one encounter in Hollywood's Beauty Bar, after being introduced by my brother. What fortune! I think he and his mother were a bit surprised by my appearance, which was worn. They provided me with a delicious dinner of potatoes, quiche Lorraine (and water! so hard to find!) with a selection of cheese and my laundry being done for dessert.

we live on a mountain right at the top

Along with all of Iceland, Cinqueterre and Dubrovnik, Chamonix is one of my favorite spots on the trip.

I arrived at night, and only had the cold, thin air to remind me that I was somewhere near mountains. When I woke up and stepped outside, I found myself surrounded by snowcovered Alps, some with sharp, steep edges and others smooth and white (like mont blanc).

I gather than when moving quickly (as I have been) places with natural beauty are much easier to appreciate than cities with cultural charm. I could wander all over Berlin by myself looking for the perfect cafe, or the perfect bar, or the perfect group of super cool artsy looking friends, but without guidance, I am completely lost. In a place like Chamonix, all I have to do is open my eyes and my jaw drops.

On the other hand, I think I would get extremely tired of places like Chamonix or Cinquaterre if I had to live there. Not enough people. No music scene. Nothing really to do but hike or ski. Which you can only do so much of.

But my one day of hiking yesterday? Fantastic.

First, I took a lift up to 3800 meters (Chamonix is at 1000) which was slightly scary (and very expensive -- 35 euro!) but very worth it. While the weather in the town was pleasant enough, it was icy at the top of the mountain. I had a terrific view of Mont Blanc (actually not THAT impressive, kind of flat) and all the other nearby peaks. I had to move slowly because my lungs were not so adjusted to the altitude.

After lunch and descending the mountain, I put on my hiking shoes that I bought in Iceland and haven't used since and took another gondola up to the other side of the mountain (2000 meters). I walked for about an hour, going up 500 meters before stopping at the peak, meeting a fantastic French couple from Annecy and then walking down the mountain with them. Probably the steepest hike I've ever completed but also one of the most worthwhile. I felt extremely hot from the walking, even though there was ice on the ground around the top.

Hung out at the hostel and had happy hour with some Canadians, had a mediocre Chinese dinner (listening to the amusing interfamilal bickering of some English at the next table) and returned to the hostel for chatting and a viewing of Mars.

Another perfect day.

There ain’t no way to hide your Lyon eyes

Okay, really running short on time here...

Yesterday was spent almost entirely on a train. As I may have mentioned before, I feel that it is on train rides that I center myself, and that only on trains now do I really feel at "home." I change cities so often that nowhere feels that familiar, or at least not more than any other. I've been on a million trains though.

I thought that getting up at 7 AM would ensure that I would arrive in Chamonix by the late afternoon at the latest. Boy, was I wrong.

Due to infrequent and booked trains, the best deal I could get was a morning 5 hour train to Lyon (which as the crow flies, is kind of out of the way), a 4 hour layover there, and then another 4.5 train to Chamonix, to arrive at 9:35 at night. That's 13 hours, including the layover.

I took advantage of my time in Lyon to have a delicious 4 course meal and walk around for about 45 minutes. The meal was at a tiny restaurant near the big central square. For only 10.50 euro I had an appetizer of pate (cooked, with tomato sauce), the rarest lamb I've ever had for an entre, a bit of Creme fromage and then an apple tort for dessert. SOOOO good. And free water. And a bit of local wine. Probably one of the most satisfying meals of the trip. The guide book says that Lyon is famous for its food. It deserves the reputation, I think.

What Lyon is BAD at is internet. I wasted a lot of time, searching all over town for internet, and never found it.

I met an old French Armenian woman on the subway from the old town to the train station who told me all of her life story that she had time to tell within 4 stops.

I arrived in Chamonix late at night. So understandably. Little was I prepared for the view of the mountains surrounding the town that would appear the next morning when I woke up.

The trip from Lyon to Chamonix was lonely though. The train was small, the riders sparsely spread among the cars. I read a lot of Foucault's Pendulum and listened to my iPod, and thought a lot. Thinking about memory. Thinking about how I am probably going to be thinking about this trip regularly for the rest of my life.

Alsatian Cousin

Now TWO days ago was almost as good as THREE days ago. But I have little time to write. I am sitting in a very expensive internet cafe in Chamonix, France and want to get out to the gondola in time so that I can go hiking in the French Alps before I go to Paris tomorrow. Appreciate my attempt at brevity, then?

After my bike around Strasbourg, I was inspired to bike around the Route de Vin, a scenic highway that curves through the vinyards of Alsace, connecting about 100 small, primarily wine oriented towns.

I took a train to Colmar, the northern "hub" of the route, and rented a bicycle from a guy who, while initially gruff, noticed my Beach Boys/Bjork themed wallet and said, "That's Brian, right? And that's...that's Carl!" Soon, he and I were talking about the Beach Boys and soon after that he informed me how very much he loved music. The most unusual among his favorites was Grandaddy. I'm glad to know that indie rock lives on among middle aged bicycle store owners in touristy Alsatian towns.

Before embarking on the bike ride, I went to the town's biggest museum (forgot the name) to see the Isenheim Alterpiece, painted by Grunewald. This particular work of art was a good part of the reason that I went to Colmar at all, rather than beginning my trip in another town. While no expert at art, I've always loved Grunewald's depiction of Christ's crucifixion, mostly because it is so terribly gruesome. I think I liked it so much (especially in high school when I first discovered it in Art History class) because it depicted death as something horrible and painful, unlike many of the other famous crucifixion portraits from the middle ages and Rennaissance. I was very excited to see it. Rarely do I get so excited about seeing any one painting in person.

The bike ride was beautiful of course, but as all of the towns COMPLETELY shut down between 12-2 in the afternoon, I found my goal of "wine tasting" to be partially frustrated. I did find two wineries that were open to provide a free tasting, and I bought a bottle from the second (although perhaps foolishly, as he proudly informed me that a major wine store in Los Angeles is one of his clients (and I could have gotten the same wine in L.A.))

There wasn't much to DO in the towns, but they were old and separated by only 1-3 kilometers, so I was about to see about 5 in the course of the afternoon, while taking my time.

For lunch I stopped in Equisheim and had a delicious chicken in a Riesling sauce (one of the very few times I've consumed chicken on this trip) with some pasta that tasted like matzoh meal and a few glasses of Vin Nouveau. Vin Nouveau is not real wine (as one might imagine, from the name...especially considering that Beaujoulais (sp?) Nouveau is very much a real wine.) Instead, it is juice that has been fermented for only a few weeks. It has only the faintest taste of alcohol, but when served cold was extremely refreshing, especially after a few hours of bicycling.

In the evening, I returned by train to Strasbourg, had a merquez sandwich for dinner and met some of the people from the night before in the hotel bar. By this point I felt sad to be leaving Strasbourg, as I was just getting the hang of it. I love the Alsatian food, the people are nice and the city is fun to get around (on a bike, not so much on foot.) Unfortunately, I felt that while it might have been nice to "chill" there for a while, my time was better spent doing something really special.

I sat in that hotel bar, studying my Let's Go Guide, trying to decide. Amsterdam? I've been. Cologne? Probably nice, but would it be that different from other places i've been? Bruge? Maastrict? Antwerp? I've seen enough old buildings and alterpieces to last me a lifetime.

So Chamonix it was. Home to the first winter Olympics back in the 20s and at the foot of Mt. Blanc, the tallest peak in Europe. Little did I know how much trouble it would be to get there.

Andy would bicycle across town, in the rain, to bring you candy

You know, none of the pictures I post are my own. I do not know how to upload from my camera, so all pictures I put here come from somewhere else on the web.

Yesterday, my first full day in Strasbourg (the jewel of Alsace) was one of the best days of my entire trip. Not because Strasbourg was one of the best cities I've visited -- although I have no real complaints -- but rather, because yesterday contained most of the elements of what I am looking for in a trip, very little went wrong and I felt consistently content or excited by what I was doing. Because I did so many things, I will list them with numbers.

1. I rented a bicycle. Which brings me to "regrets." I have few true regrets on this trip. True, I have made many MISTAKES. And I have had many things go WRONG. And I do not doubt that I have made choices to visit cities or sights that were ultimately not the best ones I could have chosen. I can't feel regret over these because no person and no trip is perfect. I couldn't have done better. I DO feel regret over not renting a bike until yesterday. I've KNOWN since day 1 that I would enjoy exploring some of these cities on a bicycle. I see people riding everywhere and I know that most European cities are much friendlier to bicycles than they are in Los Angeles. Still, for some reason, I was too lazy or too cheap or too unmotivated to get up that much earlier in the morning and rent one. Renting a bicycle yesterday was the best decision I ever made. I got to explore the entire city of Strasbourg and get more of the exercise I have been craving. I was able to carry more in my basket that I can comfortably carry on my back. I got to feel the cold and refreshing air of Alsace on my face rather than soak in the heat my body produces when I walk for hours. True, while Alsace is amazingly bike friendly (lanes EVERYWHERE) it is one of the most confusing cities I have ever visited (including Durham, North Carolina) with no real way or orienting oneself, an irrelevant north/south/east/west, no one major central river and no center street. I was glad to be on a bike because when I made mistakes and got lost I was able to correct them fairly quickly.

2. I visited the Strasbourg Cathedral. I've seen far more cathedrals on this trip than I had ever planned (it's funny how once I am in a new city I feel a moral obligation to visit the cathedral), and it has been weeks since I began to grow tired of them. Still, this one was one of the best. Very tall, very scary, very ornate without being tacky (lots of carving, rather than colors), stained glas windows, dark...

3. I climbed up the cathedral steps for yes, a "breathtaking view". The 330 steps to the top also left me "out of breath."

4. The Astronomical clock in the cathedral. Boring. Totally missable, but I waited outside for 45 minutes to see it perform as it always does at 12:30 (the apostles dance out and Jesus blesses them).

5. Lunch! I know, I know...I try to eat as much "typical" food as I can, but this time I broke my rule and had that sort of modern California-ish, healthy, not so oily, "Asian" food that grows more and more popular. And this was some of the best I've ever had. Spare ribs, noodles, some Alsatian wine (pinot noir) and I was so happy. I spent more than I would have liked (ever since I hit Germany), but the trip is almost over, so no matter.

6. Bicycled to and through The Orangerie, the most famous of Strasbourg's (many) city parks. Here, I felt a real jolt of happiness. I felt relaxed, even though I was pedaling my feet.

7. I BOWLED. I came across a bowling alley in the middle of the Orangerie park. I haven't bowled since I left home, and I had nothing better to do, so I paid a few Euro and bowled a game. According to the machine I scored a 101, but I think I was given an extra pin by mistake (giving me a spare on the 10th frame) and thus allowing me to break 100.

8. Biked around the international buildings (Strasbourg is one of only 3 cities that are not world capitals that are base to major international organizations!)

9. I biked out of town to the north into a quiet suburb, looking for something different. It was boring.

10. A boat tour around the city. Not really my thing, but it was included in the 10 euro ticket I bought that also got me the bike and entry into the cathedral. I felt sleepy, especially as night fell.

11. Dinner at a touristy Alsatian restaurant near the Cathedral. As often happens when I dine alone in Europe, I find myself talking to the person next to me. This time, it was a Dutch woman who commented on my attempt to speak French with the waitress. We talked for the rest of dinner, only interrupted by...

12. This woman who was singing with a microphone in the restaurant and occasionally making the audience participate. She started singing mostly French and German songs that I didn't recognize, but when she started singing "Money Money Money" from ABBA, she must have seen my eyes perk up because she ran over to me with a microphone and made me sing the chorus. She had done the same for many of the other tourists in the restaurant who, not knowing the words, mostly grunted into the mic. But she must have been surprised that I knew the words. Later on, she was singing a song that required dancing and pulled me and a big fat German guy from our seats to perform it. She had this guy and me twirling each other around and alternating kicks while she sang. It was all terribly fun, especially since I'll never see anybody in that restaurant again. And, I heard something I'll probably NEVER hear again: "Good singing! And good dancing!" Oh, what people will say for tips!

13. Back to the hotel bar where I was reading over a campari and soda when this French guy starts talking to me and invites me to join his table of friends. By the end of the night I was standing outside the hotel singing Leonard Cohen's "Famous Blue Raincoat" with another, Strasbourger.. They all invited me to a party (which was tempting), but I wanted to get up early today so I could visit the Route de Vin. Which too, was a lot of fun.

O the wind is blowing, it hurts your skin, as you climb up hillside, forest and fen

Yesterday was the kind of day I was hoping for when I decided to go to southern Germany.

Sure, I have loved the cities I've visited: Warsaw, Berlin, Prague...

I've been looking for something not only small, but also outdoorsy. I remember fondly the days of hiking around Icelandic glaciers and seek the chance, just once more time before I hit the office life, to see forests, to breathe fresh mountain air, to say "Yes! I climbed to the top of that mountain!"

Angela and I stayed in Heidelberg one more day, but this time we crossed the river Neckar in search of the Philosophenweg, a path high above that overlooks the city and serves as a base for hikes up Heidelberg's "Holy Mountain." I only saw a few of the sites atop this mountain (as time and physical energy are limited), but that which I saw was green, and fresh and full of trees. Just what I wanted.

The path up to the Philosphenweg was narrow and steep, covered in moss. Reminded me of the narrow path I took in Lopud, one of the Dalmatian islands, that took me past stony walls and green floors (and a donkey) from one side to the other. This path alternated cobblestones and stairs. When we got to the top we met a group of German tourists who directed us in a direction (I have no idea if it was the best direction) up through a forest.

I loved this forest. I've been taking it too easy lately. Ever since I hit eastern Europe I've been spending too much time on buses and trains, sitting, eating sausages and drinking beer and coffee. Getting soft. Here, I got to run up the path, Heidelberg beneath me, the air chilly (but not enough to prevent me from getting super hot) until I hit an auditorium built during Hitler's reign (but Hitler only came to Heidelberg once, the Germans remind me) that was once a Celtic religious site. I took a few pictures and ran up and down the stadium stairs (partly so as to not be outdone by the old man who was running up and down for exercise).

Angela and I only had a little bit of time left in Heidelberg so we went back to the Irish pub from the night before and had an "Irish Breakfast" of sausage, bacon, eggs, tomato and potatoes. Although not German cuisine, this was yet another example of consistently satisfying food I've had in Germany.

We took a bus to the train station, said goodbye (although probably not for long, as we both ultimately end up in L.A) and I grabbed a train to Strasbourg and she back to Berlin.

Why Strasbourg you (and I, years later, trying to remember) ask?

I wasn't quite ready to leave Germany, but felt that I should be getting closer to Paris, as I need to be there sooner rather than later for my flight out and I have a lot that I want to do there. I kind of want to go to Munich, Cologne, Leipzig and Hanover, but not so much that I am willing to deal with another big city. Strasbourg's culture is a mix of French and German, so I get to cross over to France without entirely saying goodbye to Germany.

Besides, Joe Frank was born in Strasbourg, so it can't be that bad, right?

The train was that bad though. WAY too crowded. But full of students, so I was more energized by their "youthful energy" than uncomfortable since I was standing on a train for an hour. A girl let me put my bag next to her seat (again, proving that people from Heidelberg are nice) so I didn't have to hover over it the entire time and for the most part the other travellers (probably commuters) were smiley. I was in Strasbourg before I knew it.

My trip to Strasbourg began optimistically (as I liked the feel of the city and felt excited to be in Alscace) but the hostel suggested by Let's Go was full and it took me 3 hours to find a place to stay.

In the process, I went to an Internet cafe on the French/German border where I met some children (11 years old, but they say 11 funny in France (seven plus four?)) who were very excited to hear I was from L.A. "Do you know 50 Cent? Do you know Snoop Dogg? Tupac?" Of course, my answer was "yes." They were also very proud to demonstrate to me their English. One of them pointed to one of his friends and said "motherfucker" and the other responded by saying "suck my dick." I was very impressed.

I love my hotel, although it is costing me 40 euro a night. Yes, hotel. I couldn't find anything cheap so I chose the second cheapest option in the book. I get my own room, my own BATHROOM and....

A TV!!!! All the stations were in French, but I found an old Clint Eastwood movie (dubbed) that I left played (with the sound off) while I slept. I took a shower and brushed my teeth in peace and it felt like one of the most luxurious nights of my life.

And dinner? The Zen Cafe next door, featuring several Alsatian options. I noticed "pickled pork with potatoes" and was intrigued before I noticed that the German translation was "eisbein" which I tried in Berlin and (though I loved it) do NOT need to try again. I chose something else, not knowing what to expect.

Alsatian saurcraut (meaning, an entire jar's worth of saurcraut -- I've never had so much at once) and about 5 kinds of sausage. And some Alsatian wine. All of which was fantastic.

Yesterday was a terrific day. And today was even better. Shame internet is expensive and I have only 5 euros in my wallet.

October damp on down the street: remember?

I take that back...I REALLY liked Heidelberg. If only I were a college aged, extremely smart, German speaking student I think I would love to go to University there.

1. Great student scene (EVERYONE there is young, unlike say...Venice...)

2. Good food: delicious wurst, great local beer, saurcraut, the best doner kebab I've had on the entire trip (even better than the one I had in Nice or the one I had in the Turkish neighborhood in Berlin).

3. Not TOO expensive (although definitely no Warsaw).

4. The most friendly people I've met in Europe (consistently: people on the bus, waiters, people working at the hostel, random people on the street asked for directions...what other city can offer this?)

5. A beautiful castle that Angela and I walked up to. We took a narrow and extremely steep path from the Old City center up to an area high above the city (for yet another "breathtaking view".) We took a tour of the Pharmacy Museum (who would ever have thought that I would go to TWO Pharmacy museums on one vacation -- recall Dubrovnik...) that was located in the castle, explored the walls and had a mouthwatering lunch of rindswurst, saurcraut and mustard. Or rather, that's what I ate.

And it finally rained! After weeks (well...since October 1st...) I have been praying for rain, something to cool me down from the just a bit too hot for a jacket/just a bit too cold to stand outside without one weather I've been experiencing and finally got it yesterday. Nothing too serious. While i was in the internet cafe, the clouds decided to break and when i came out the street was damp. Remember? It'll be so long until it's June!

Uh...what else happened...

Oh yeah, I was a glutton. Besides the hostel breakfast and the sausage lunch at the castle, I also ate a hamburger (I called it a Heidelberger -- isn't that clever?) at the Ernest Hemingway cafe (while writing postcards and having a conversation: aren't I a great multitasker?), a plate of Pad Thai at a surprisingly good (you guessed it) Thai restaurant and then a doner kebab to follow up the Guinness I enjoyed at the town's Irish Pub (and ALL European cities seem to HAVE Irish pubs for some reason...)

We walked across the old city bridge at night, sang songs about how terrific Heidelberg was and by late night took the long bus ride back to the hostel.

I have to go when the whistle blows, the whistle knows my name: Baby, I was born on a train

When I was in Iceland, climbing to the top of a hill in Stykkisholmar, I met a German woman who suggested that rather than Berlin and Munich, the best place in Germany is Heidelberg. I took note, and over 6 weeks later, here I am, in a small city that until that encounter I had never even heard of.

Heidelberg is home to Germany´s "oldest and most pretigious" (according to Let´s Go) and for two nights, where I will be living.

Getting here was not so easy. Over a bockwurst and ketchup last night, Angela and I decided to travel together here by train. Easier said than done, right?

An overpriced train ticket, an hour late train, a missed stop in Mannheim, and by mistake getting on the world´s slowest commuter train, we arrived in Heidelberg at around 8 PM. The trip was otherwise uneventful, unless you consider the consumption of 2 jelly donuts by me to be an event worth mentioning.

But Heidelberg hasn´t disappointed. Just as I desperately felt the need to get out of London, Budapest, and Prague, I felt the urge to leave urban and metropolitan Berlin for a smaller place. A place where I can walk throughout the old town in one day and not feel like I´ve missed too much.

We found room at the city´s youth hostel, which while only average in terms of quality had the single most helpful and friendly girl working at the desk I am yet to encounter.

We explored the town at night, had some pizza and pasta and visited a bar which was strangely overpopulated with Spanish speakers.

But how do I FEEEEEEEEEL about Heidelberg? I dunno. I guess I like it. The night felt cold. We had a long walk home, assisted by a Slovakian girl from Hungary studying medicine in Heidelberg.

I pick my clique and set to go to work but the only thing they care about is to whom to play the Turk

Days don´t always (or usually) go as planned.

Monday morning I woke up, took a bath (yes, a bath, not a shower) and set out by myself (for the first time in Berlin) to a modern art museum about which I had been anticipating all week. I was so proud of myself: without Sarah´s assistance (she was at work) I navigated the U-bahn system, made no mistakes and got all the way to the museum relatively early in the day. Unfortunately, on Mondays almost all of the museums in Berlin (as in Warsaw) are closed. I had the same bad luck with the German Film Museum on Potsdamer Platz so decided to take Jannes´s advice and go past Alexanderplatz to Kothusser Ter, which according to him is the center of Berlin´s Turkish neighborhood.

And as we ALL know, Berlin has the largest Turkish population outside of Istanbul! In the world!

There wasn´t so much for me to do of course. I ate a doner kebab and wrote a postcard (which i´ve done everywhere else), I walked past some fairly monumental women with head scarves and stopped again for a bread and spinach based food (I don´t have any idea what it was called) and a coffee while I read Foucault´s Pendulum.

But at 2:30, I realized that I had told Sarah that I would be back to the apartment in Kreutzberg between 3 and 4! What could I do that wouldn´t take so long?

In almost every city I have visited, I have made an honest effort to at least once, place myself in the highest point in the city for one of those oh-so-memorable "breathtaking views."

In Berlin, the highest point is at the top of the formerly East German television tower located near the Alexanderplatz. It was expensive (7.50!) but they took credit card so I wasn´t too bothered. The view WAS amazing. I looked down upon the Berliner Dome, upon which I had stood just a few days before, thinking of what a terrific view of the city I had.

I did make it home, only an hour late, and chatted in the kitchen with the girls for a bit before calling Angela (who coincidentally is in Berlin at the same time). Even more coincidentally, she was living just a few blocks away, so it was especially convenient to meet up at the corner, grab a drink with some friends of hers and finish off the night with a currywurst at Curry 36.

When I got back to the apartment, everybody was still up, so we watched some Don Hertzfeldt videos ("Rejected", so funny...but scary), roomate Monica´s college silent film (in German) explaining the basis behind and method for revolution of the oppressed proletariat and proof by roommate Suzy that she is not a hipster (in response to my accusation) by naming several Dave Matthews bands albums by title and even coming up with the name "Tim Reynolds."

And that was that for Berlin. I liked it, and among the places I´ve visited would consider it one of the most liveable. It´s got everything a big city should have: good food, art, all sorts of interesting people, extensive and efficient public transportation, and a good music and film scene. Unfortunately, I still speak no German

Bitte?

Zoo Station (Just a stop down the line)

Did you know that until a few weeks ago, it hadn´t occurred to me that Zoo Station was an actual metro station in Berlin and not just some bizarre U2 invention? Well fine, maybe it HAD occurred to you!

In typical me-in-Berlin style I got a late, late start on yesterday and by the time I had finished with internet, shower, breakfast (doner kebab!!!) and figuring out a plan it was late afternoon. And since something tells me its all happening at the zoo (I do believe it, I do believe it´s true), Sarah and I headed out to the Berlin zoo to see more non-insect animals than I´ve seen since I was a little child. Or at least more LIVE animals (I saw a lot of really cool STUFFED animals in the Natural History Museum in London). Spider monkeys (stand for honesty), giraffes (insincere), elephants (kindly, but dumb), orangutans (skeptical of changes in their cages), Lions (roaring at each other), gorillas, howler monkeys, a sleeping panda, kangaroos, hippos, rhinos, camels, vicunas, llamas and dromedary (but no alpaca?)

I hadn´t been too excited about going to the zoo and was halfway saying that I "didn´t really care" when I saw a rhinoceros running past me and I screamed "my god! this is amazing! did you see that?"

Dinner at Monsieur Vuong´s (I said the day started late!) which was delicious and reminded me very much of L.A. dining. Super hip Vietnamese dining, full of super hip not Vietnamese diners. I requested some hot peppers for my soup, making this one of the very first spicy meals I have had in Europe. I was extremely impressed.

I met up in the evening with Jannes, the German dude I met in Nice. Unfortunately he didn´t have so much time to hang out because of a project he is working on, but I ate spagetti with him and his bandmate. I think he may be playing in L.A. in April and if possible I am going to try to check them out.

I was born on the other side of a town ripped in two

When I left home, expected to spend much of this trip deep in contemplation. I had expected to be in an almost constant state of reflection, pondering both the meaning of the moment at hand and my life in general.

Instead, most of the time my mental energy was concentrated on questions such as "where am I eating?", "where is the nearest post office?", "can I see everything I want to see in 3 days here or will I need 4?", "how much does that price come out to in American dollars?" and "how does this pay phone work?"

I don´t know if I should have expected this or not, but sinceI hit the spots where I had friends, I have not been able to stop reflecting on "things." It seems late in the trip for this to have happened, but I find it uncomfortable to think how far away places like Iceland and Italy seem. And I´m amazed at how I cannot but help have a certain fondness for certain memories that I am sure at the time were actually unpleasant (like 1) walking along a narrow, car filled highway to get to the catacombs outside Rome, with no idea how far away they were or 2) standing in the tourist office in Reykjavik and finding out that the rental car would cost 30 dollars a day more than I had just been told or 3) getting pelted with rain in Nice.

Yesterday began in East Berlin.

1. Sarah and her roommate Monica and I walked along the East Side Gallery, a large section of Berlin Wall which was left up because of the notable artwork painted upon it. I took a few pictures that would be fun to post if only I knew how to do that from an internet cafe.

2. Next, a short subway ride to Alexanderplatz, a large plaza by the 368 meter high television tower, the tallest structure in Berlin. We visited the statues of Marx and Engels (which had been graffitied with Stars of David) and heard some live music playing in the background which I vaguely suspect may have been religious.

3. The Pergamonmuseum. Houses only ancient art including entire temples or walls extracted from their original locations in the Near East and Greece. We saw a big blue walls with relief lions from ancient Babylonia, ancient Greek statues and temples, 17th century Turkish rugs, Assyrian lions, a replica of Hammurabi´s code stone, and some stone constructions from the 4th millenium BC. I liked this museum a lot.

4. Dinner at "Haus of 100 Bieres". All day, I had been begging for "eisbein", a traditional German food we had read about in one of the guidebooks. I was told that the word translates to "ice leg," the "ice" being the thick layer of fat which surrounds the pork leg on the bone. I must admit, I was slightly afraid of consuming a meal with so much fat, but I´m only going to be in Germany once and I felt the vacation would be incomplete without going head to head against the eisbein. Our restaurant was traditional German, and as you would expect, had a list of 100 available beers listed by number. I ordered my eisbein, which was, as expected, a giant piece of pig leg along with potatoes, saurcraut and something green I could not recognize. For ordering my second beer we were without menus so I chose a random number out of 100 (it was 63, I think) and called the waitress. I was prepared for almost anything besides what I received: "the world´s strongest lager beer", weighing in at a solid 14% alcohol! Yuck! That´s above the strength of many wines! I can´t lie and say that the 14% beer tasted good, but it was an acceptable compliment to the eisbein which was delicious.

5. Back to the apartment to kill time for a few hours and then out to a bar called "Wiener Blut". I thought it was a cool bar.

Some people try to pick up girls and get called "asshole;" this never happened to Pablo Picasso

I can´t help feeling increasingly preoccupied with this trip nearing its end and with the fact that I do not want it to be over! 2 weeks left in Europe and then a few days in New York to top things off? Shucks.

The big cultural event of yesterday was a visit to a museum (an important one, but whose name I cannot remember) to see an exhibit of Pablo Picasso´s private collection of his own works. That is, we got to see the pieces that he kept for himself. Sarah´s roommate was working there giving "English language" assistance regarding the paintings so, while we didn´t get in for free, we got some personal advice on looking at the paintings.

I don´t think that Pablo Picasso is overrated. I thought the exhibit was great, possibly one of the best I´ve seen so far on this trip. The works came from a broad range of his career (unlike the Picasso Museum in Barcelona, that had an unusual, disproportionately early selection) and featured paintings, sketches, and sculptures. It is sad to admit, but my capacity for enjoying art is not as great now as it was in college when I was studying it, but I had a good time stopping in front of some of the more interesting works yesterday and giving them a more "in depth" check out. The feeling I did start to get, that bothered me, was of detachment between the artist and the subjects. Not bothered me in that I thought it was bad for the art, but that I felt uncomfortable. By the time I left the exhibit, the coldness started to overwhelm me and I was happy to go.

Earlier in the day, I ate a "curry wurst." A sausage, with ketchup and french fries. I´m not a huge ketchup or fries fan, but I loved the sausage and hope to have a few more before I leave Berlin. I think today might be a good day for a doner kebab (although I had one last night, I just remembered...)

Trouble finding an internet cafe got us off to a late start, and besides for running around on trains, eating a little and looking at maps not much happened until the Picasso Museum at 5.

However, afterwards we went to a dinner part similar to the one the previous night. A stir fried tofu something, a salad, spagetti, "Cars" by Gary Numan...was there anything else? It was a good time. Dinner parties are fun, especially when one person isn´t stuck doing all the cleaning and cooking.

On the way home from the party we met a dude who went to Beverly High and is studying music here.

We´re in a Road Movie to Berlin, Can´t Drive Out the Way We Drove In

While my train did not actually ARRIVE in Berlin until 8 in the morning (forcing Sarah to wait 40 minutes in the freezing train station to meet me) I woke up on the train at around 6 in the morning, hardly refreshed.

And why not? The train bed was comfortable (I would hope so, after how much I paid), but I felt uncomfortable and restless.

Part of the reason, I think, is that along this entire trip I have imagined everything from Germany on to be the final stretch. That once I got here, I would nothing really to worry about because I would be so close to the end. It felt shocking to be in such exotic places as Iceland, Croatia, Hungary and Poland, but Berlin feels like another big, liveable city. Not so far culturally from home.

And despite all the troubles I have had, and despite being sick of the 6 shirts I am wearing, and being sick of not having enough money to spend, and sick of trains and desperate for Mexican food, I am NOT ready to go home. There is a lot more out here that I want to see, and now that I´ve had some solid "not-alone" time I feel ready for another week or two of the relative isolation I experienced in September.

But what of Berlin? What do I think of it? What have I done? Isn´t it too big? Too overwhelming?

Remember, for the next few days I will be staying with a friend from college, just as I did for the last few days in Warsaw, but under much different circumstances. Rather than living in the guest room of a house, I´m on the futon of an apartment shared by three girls and a very hungry rabbit. I think they are all teaching assistants somewhere but no matter how many times I ask, I never precisely understand the deal.

The day began fairly productively, a breakfast of lachs (lox!), bread and various milk based spreads and then a walk to the Brandenburg Gate (so famous I´ve heard of it!), the Reichstag (waited in line for a free view of Berlin from the top) and a climb to the top of the Berliner Dom (a big church with a blue dome). As we all know, I love the views from the tops of monuments and this was no disappointment.

Had some sort of wurst for lunch...

Went to one of Sarah´s friend´s places for a dinner party. All American, but they all spoke German. And the apartment was owned by a German. And we listened to Kate Bush.

And that made me happy.

You can get anything you want at Alice´s Restaurant

Unfortunately am updating after 2 days from the world´s worst keyboard so am having trouble typing but will do my best. Am in Berlin for sure but am trying to remember accurately my last day in Warsaw, which was, actually pretty great.

I will begin mentioning the coincidence of the century because I, as we all know, love coincidence. I took a bus in the late morning to Wilanow, the great 17th century palace built by the legendary Polish king Jan Sobieski (so famous that I learned about him in high school) which was also miraculously not destroyed during WWII. The palace was what it was; that is, I enjoyed it and got a taste of 18th and 19th century Polish history from the audiotour but couldn´t help feeling that "it´s just a really fancy house!" Nice portrait gallery though. Learned that the Glenn Danzig hair lock I saw on the guy on the street the other day was actually a fashionable style back in the 17th century. Which is NOT my favorite century when it comes to aesthetics, so no big surprise. I got stuck behind a class full of Polish kids on a field trip (everywhere I go there are TONS of field trips--´where did I ever go in elemetary school? the water purification plant?) but I didn´t mind because they were well behaved.

But the coincidence part...

I´m walking outside the museum, passing by a chocolate store, trying to find a place to eat lunch when I hear "Oh my God! Oh MY GOD!" in what was ultimately a Canadian accent. Remember those two girls from Cinqueterre that I magically ran into on the steps of St. Peter´s Basilica in Vatican City? It was THEY! Having "drinking chocolate" with one of their grandparents. I vaguely remembered that they would be going to Poland, but the chances that they would be taking the same day trip at the same time was almost too much.

After they left I had my own glass of "drinking chocolate" followed by a much too big salad and finished my Hunter S. Thompson. Upon which my final judgment is positive! Not a GREAT book by any means, and not as innovative as Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, but an enjoyable straightforward story about journalists in Puerto Rico in the late 1950s.

Later in the afternoon I was stopped on the street by a girl using the old line "Do you speak English?" I immediately told her I had no money to spend, which was true, but she said that she didn´t want money, only to tell me someone about the religious organization to which she belongs. I mostly nodded my head until I noticed some ´conspicuous Chinese writing on all of the pages of the notebook she was holding. I asked what the deal was.

She was a Moonie! A follower of Rev. Moon! Yikes! I smiled and said "well THAT´s interesting" and made my way away.

The early evening was less enjoyable and moderately frustrating as Alice´s cell phone that I had been borrowing in order to contact her ran out of batteries and I had to use an internet call center to contact her. When I called her work, one of her coworkers told me to call her at home. When home didn´t pick up after several hours of trying I gave up and decided that I would GO home and meet her there. I walked a good deal of the way, until I did´t recognize my surroundings and found a cab.

The cabdriver spoke no English and I no Polish so we negotiated the cab fare in German, a language neither one of us seemed to have much competency in. I THOUGHT that we had agreed on "fumph" but instead (as I discovered when I got to Alice´s parents´ place) that it had been 15. I argued with the cabdriver with hand signals but gave up. 10 zloti is only worth about 3 bucks anyway so not a big deal.

But Alice was not at home, but rather at work. So her stepfather had to drive me all the way back to the city to meet her!

I had my final Polish meal (potato pancakes with cream and sugar, veal pierogi and Hungarian wine) and kept our eyes on the clock so I wouldn´t miss my train. I´ll miss that Polish food. Not easy on the stomach but great in the mouth!

Alice walked me to the train station, I recovered by bag from the locker and I got on the night sleeper train to Berlin.