A pinch of Paris and a dash of Berlin

Guten Tag everyone from Berlin, Germany (East Half in pre 1989 terms)!

I should warn you before I begin, the Germans insist on having several keys in different places on the keyboard, and thus typing is slow and error prone. If a rogue z appears where a y should be, you know whz. or rather, why.

I never got to talk about Paris, so I'll try to give you a synopsis of the highlights and some of the unique occurences that Tom and I will never forget.

First, the Parisian metro is much more convoluted and congested than the London tube. In Britain they always say "Mind the Gap" to avoid stepping down into the space between the train and the platform. In Paris there is no such warning, and on occasion, a "Mind the Giant Crater Through Which an Infant Could Easily Fall Through" would be appreciated. Tom and I have to date still avoided paying for bathrooms. In the words of Churchill, I shall never, never, surrender to the European's bathroom demands. Certainly not to the French.

Eating in France has been an event in itself. The food is delicious, and we are getting adept at spending little money for decent quality. We had a Royale with Cheese meal each the second night in Paris, following the Pulp Fiction idea of the Frenchified McDonalds. At the foot of Notre Dame we had jambon et fromage crepes (and a complimentary chocolate crepe because Tom and I looked like confused American boys, a power we are still learning to utilize at full potential). To sum it up, we ate only bread, cheese, and chocolate for several days, which I believe is all the essential food groups. For French people.

My semesters of French came in handy on occasion, but wild gesticulating almost was more useful than the correct vocabulary word. Several mistranslations of epic proportions occured, one in particular where I was asking about the size of an omelette and the shopkeep would respond only with "bagguette." Many stereotypical French customs were witnessed, straight out of my high school and college textbooks. Unshaven men named Jacques would greet random friends in 80's clothing, kiss both cheeks, get on a noisy moped, and head to the cinema.

One of the most memorable experiences of my life happened crossing the Seine to see Notre Dame. Tom and I heard the unmistakable wail of Kurt Cobain (lead singer of Nirvana for the adults reading this post) singing Smells Like Teen Spirit, and being gigantic fans of the band, we were naturally quite shocked... when before us a marionette was soloing to the song! A strung out man was beautifully choreographing a marionette to play Smells Like Teen Spirit on the main bridge across the Seine... In Paris. It was sublime. I tipped the man, and hopefully he did not decide to buy additional drugs with my money, but I had to reward his efforts nonetheless.

The sights in France were lovely. Sacre Coeur was magnificent. Pere Lachaise was a very peaceful experience, and we stopped at the graves of Jim Morrison, Moliere, Rossini, and Oscar Wilde. The Eiffel Tower was, well... Paris lit up at night in a 360 degrees panaromic view, words cannot do it justice. The Louvre has everything important in it ever. I think Tom mentioned some of the things in it. Versailles and the surrounding gardens are among the most beautiful things I have ever seen. I mean that quite seriously. The azure sky with a beaming sun, shining upon endless tree rows with symmetrical floral patterns and fountains with various mythological figures was breathtaking. King Louis had a serious greenthumb. And by greenthumb I mean 1,000 disgruntled servant garderners.

So, that was France in a nutshell. A bread nutshell covered in cheese and chocolate. I will comment about Berlin very soon because the internet is available and not overly expensive. Now if I can just get a keyboard with a y and z in the correct places...

-Joel