Cultural Differences

Just when you think Europe is too Americanized, surprises spring up like a Jack in the Box. First surprise, Air France served free champagne, wine, and even cognac to the herd of us in tourist. I only opted for wine. Of course one isn't supposed to drink on long flights, but put the words "should not" in front of practically anything, and that is what I absolutely want to do.

Wine alone was the compromise. The food was fairly good for tourist class, too. I have already commented on CDG (Charles de Gaulle airport). One thing to be said: the signage is good.

Another difference: half the population is not constantly walking around their ears glommed to cell phones or texting like mad. A pleasant break.

German breakfasts haven't changed. The only sweet stuff is the jam and jelly; otherwise, it's breads, cheese, ham and other meats such as salami and (yum!) liverwurst along with various jams, honeys and spreads. The only spread I didn't see was margarine. The low-fat paranoid-about-every-bite lifestyle doesn't appear to have caught on. The most unfortunate word, "wellness" has. What can I say?

Wine by the glass is cheaper. Flowers at the florists are much cheaper. We saw a McDonald's in a half-timbered building. How is that for bizarre?

East Germany now seems quite similiar to West Germany and the differences are subtle.

I was somehow touched to revisit the scenes from The Shadow Warriors-- the Markt Platz in Goettingen, Handelstrasse and Merkelstrasse, and even the Kuhsiel outside Bremen. We stood in front of the hotel in Duderstadt where Peter wanted to take Emma. We drove by the gray university buildings where I put the "Institute for Advanced Computing." I couldn't find the Italian restaurant around the corner. It must be gone.

So. Things change. Things stay the same. Italian food has taken over, but not to the extent that one can't find local specialties. We ate a real Thuringer Bratwurst in Thuringen. Cooked on a grill on the street. Huge, juicy, on a hard roll with the proper mustard. My God, you couldn't buy that in Boston for love nor money.

When I was lying awake in bed at night due to jet lag difficulties, I plotted my book, trying out this and that in my head.

More anon. Lots of photos.

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And the Hunter Home From the Hill

The family conversation of the past twenty-four hours has been a vigorous debate (or as vigorous as a debate can be when the parties are sleep deprived) as to whether JFK or CDG is the worst airport for traveller's changing planes. So far it is a toss-up.

The French did it again! Three years ago when we were en route to Paris, there was a transportation strike which, luckily, did not affect us.

Not so lucky yesterday. Our plane sat on the ground in Bremen (due to the air controller's slow down) and we missed our flight back to the U.S. from Paris. Of course, we might have made it if we had not been navigating the airport from hell. I won't go into details, but suffice it to say we and our luggage arrived together at 10:30 p.m. in Boston, six hours later than expected after changing planes at JFK. Let's just say that we got our work out in yesterday, hauling ass through the various terminals, and our muscles are toned from all the walking. Let's also say that we debated buying a bottle of Campari at the duty free shop and decided not to. An excellent decision as it would have been confiscated at security in NY.

Let me tell you what's no fun. Going thru security four times in one day. And being wanded and patted down thrice. And having hand baggage checked twice. And being sleep deprived, forgetting about the mini-bottle of wine from Air France and the water bottle and taking them through security. I was tempted to stand there and drink the wine on the spot, offering toasts to the guy who misdirected us, the churlish woman who took the luggage, and the two-mile walk to the gate. Oh well, Whiskey-Tango-Foxtrot?

We are back. Everything unpacked. 2/3 of laundry done. Grocery list made. We decided to stop for cheeseburgers before going to the store, because an American needs a cheeseburger every now and then, and when we finished, we asked ourselves why go to the store because we could eat cereal tonight after eating such a pig-out lunch.

I did not like what I saw when I got on the scale. There is fasting and deprivation ahead. Well, it's Lent after all.

I have photos and stories and discoveries to share, but right now, the idea of a nap is toooo seductive.

At least the snow is gone. That's something. The cats are glad to see us. Thisbe made friends with the nice lady who came to give her injections twice a day. Annie is always a love. She didn't even offer three mad meows. What gives?

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