the story

We are TECHNICALLY in Switzerland (and it's certainly a lot colder up in these mountains) but everyone speaks French in Geneva, so I am still struggling with being a potential mute/mime artist at the moment. There are more English speakers here than in either Paris or Barcelona, however, and more English reading material for me to devour.

Geneva has a huge lake surrounded by mountains,  hotels, amusement rides, and  hordes of teenagers. It's truly an international and multicultural city, with people of all races and religions strolling the street, which is wonderful to see. There's Muslims eating fairy floss,  black babies crying,  Swiss kids riding funny bikes, English backpackers shouting out hellos and Spanish kids dancing to street music. Lake Geneva's not as pretty as Yosemite(but it's a city, while Yosemite is a national park). I'm hoping that tomorrow's trip to Interlaken will satisfy my insane desire to see mountainous regions with pine trees and lakes. After the hot reek of Barcelona it seems as if we have taken steps up to another  universe; a clean, cool, pristine, mystical place. There's something very strange and wild about Switzerland. It's not like any other parts of Europe that I've seen, but I'm not sure quite what it is yet...

One thing I have noticed is that it is extremely rich (which Franzy attributes to the 'good old Swiss bank account'.) It is also extremely clean, on par with Adelaide's standards, and above Melbourne's (what is it with the trash and graffiti in Melbourne???? It's really bad in many supposedly affluent suburbs, I find it baffling). Nobody seems to litter here and street businesses set up little eating areas in designated parking spaces on the road (it's like they own the bit of road outside their door).

The downside to all this is that Switzerland is pretty expensive and we are going to move on to the Czech republic as a  cheap destination later on. An American backpacker told me you can get a really bad hostel in Prague for 8 Euro (!!!!) and a really good one for a whopping 11 (amazing, eh? beats the $80 Euro Sam and I are paying for a 30 year old, brown and orange formica-themed room).

The hostel here is clean, but it makes me feel like Franzy and I are on Year 7 camp. There are the chaste bunk beds, the bathrooms that look like high school gym washrooms (from American movies) and the school canteen eating areas... it's all incredibly Swiss and clean and spartan. I feel like Franzy and I are two little kids on an incredibly long sleepover (Paris inspired romance, Spain inspired seistas, swimming and feasting, Switzerland...school camp???)

Barcelona is the dirtiest, smelliest place our tour has seen yet: a) New York is a blast of fresh beans by comparison and b) it is more offensive and pervasive smelling than one of Franzy´s farts, which is an acheivement in itself. The streets are lined with stray rubbish and we walk through wafts of urine and rotting garbage. There are stray cats and lawless canines romping about in the streets; jackhammers pumping away at seven am, mad bus drivers who park across pedestrian crossings and lots of very very bad fashion. It is nonsense that Europeans dress en masse in sophistication and style. Gaudy (or Gaudi, excuse the pun) is the lie of the land here. It´s like everyone dresses like teens on schoolies week at the Gold Coast, even the senior women, who have a version of the blue rinse-except that it´s bright pink and tends to accentuate their leathery wrinkles.

There are some fantastic things about Spain: the tapas, the fresh orange juice to be found on every street corner, the sweet little apartment with free internet that Franzy and I are staying in, the meats and breads (we got some cappocollo (sorry, I only know the Italian word for this, not even the English) sliced straight off a cured leg with the hoof still on it, and the peaches, which are sweet and flavoursome, and don´t taste like they have been in cold storage for six months.

Some Australians miss Vegemite....I did in America, where you only got sickly sweet things to put on toast...but right now I am lusting over Salt and Vinegar chips, which seem to be non-existent outside of Australia. I am ashamed to say that I know three words in Spanish and one is ´Jamon Jamon´ which means ham, because I kept picking up packets and showing them to Franzy in the hope that they were vinegar. I thought I was so terribly adept at language, but apparently I´m a bit of a dud. Two weeks in Spain and all I can do is say ´Hola´ and ham! Reminds me of one of Franzy´s Italian stories, where he could only order spaghetti with tomato because the only word he knew was ´pomodoro´. I am excited about getting to Italy and speaking some Italian, and figuring out how much I really do know. Enough to get us around and I know I can order food or yell at someone to clean up their room, thanks to my mama.

I am enjoying being the whitest person in Spain after Franzy. All my life I´ve had darker olive skin than my English Rose friends, but here I am positively pale. Everyone is really tanned, a lot of people would have been white once...

Off to Switzerland to see the beautiful alps and Interlaken tomorrow. Another long train journey, but at least we are not taking the sleeper train this time (see Franzy´s blog for details of this, in particular the homocidal thoughts we were having about the backpacker that ate food in our cabin all night) and will be able to get around easily, as Franzy´s German is excellent.

San Sebastian, Coast of Spain--darlings, doesn't it sound glam? Well, it would if I wasn't so homesick. But I think this homesickness is rapidly leaving me as we only have five weeks left, instead of the original two and a half months. One of the best things about this trip is the fact that in two days we are leaving for somewhere else, and we have no idea where. We have vetoed Barcelona, as it is expensive and hot. I'm not looking forward to cheap and dodgy accomodation again... we struck it lucky in France and are also enjoying a nice clean apartment here. Nothing can be worse than San Fran's Pee Palace, but the San Fran hostel and the English dungeon we stayed in come close.

We are tired of big cities and I am still running low so we are going to take it easy for a while. I want to spend a week in a small Italian village and hang out with some old pesani because I miss my Nonno, as he is very sick. I'm worried about how he is doing. Elderly Italians are very funny and fiery and passionate and they make me laugh. They instantly like me because my mother is a wog; that 's one of the great things about Italians--all you have to do to gain acceptance, approval and money is BE Italian...or at least half, as in my case. Not too much effort really. You can even be Maltese and pull it off (nods to you, Lady Rose, you wannabe).

My head is bleeding because I am actually reading a Nicci French book (I shall not be calling this a novel) called Catch me if I Fall and it is the shittest thing I have read since I raided my Mum's Mills and Boon collection when I was eleven. It is soo TRASHY that I can't stop reading it and I am in utter DISBELIEF at how BAD the characterisation is, dumbfounded that it is a BESTSELLER. Sam says I never read anything past 1955 and that I am a Penguin Classics Whore and while this may be true (and I do read high brow novels, I am a literary snob, but I also love WHO Magazine, so there!) I am still FLABBERGASTED that this book is not considered to be a really long magazine. Is this really the sort of crap that people read and think is good? Is this why the Da Vinci Crap did so well???? (I read Chapter one of the book, Dan Brown is ILLITERATE). Yet I must admit after Crime and Punishment it is a light read and I am more inclined to finish it and actually want to read it, even though I HATE all the characters, so it does have it's purpose....

Sorry about that rant, might move on to something more exciting now. Sambo and I spent the day on the beach (breasts abound, no one cares about being topless here except, apparently, ME) and that was good, a really healthy atttitude to the body, etc, but what was not healthy was FIVE year olds with skin tans about twenty shades darker than their underarms, bather lines, etc) and adults roasting their leathery skin to a crisp in the scorching rays. Sam and I hid under the shade of our umbrella and watched the bloodnut next to us turn PURPLE. I could have fried an egg on Franzy's tummy, the sun was that hot. (We ate peaches and drank lemonade instead. Franzy read his book and I suffered through C and P until I tried to sleep.)

Anyway, enough rants for one blog entry. San Sebastian is cool. Some very very good looking people here, but bad euro-trash fashion sense has had me laughing for days!

Hi Kids,

Just a quick post before dinner....Franzy and I are now in Saint Sebastian in Spain, which is this beautiful little seaside bay surrounded by lush green hills. There is a monastery with church spires on the mountain next to us--very European. The town is full of beautiful brown-skinned women and children, all half nude and romping around the beach in a free and delightful way.

I am utterly exhausted, and have spent the past few days sleeping. I passed out on the metro in Paris and ugly scenes ensued when I threw up due to heat and exhaustion, so we decided to put the brakes on and come here and rest. So far the plan is working and I am gaining my strength back. Still not eating much, but doing fine. Nothing wrong out of the ordinary, it's just that Franzy and I had this marathon around the Louvre that nearly killed us both. It is huge and grandiose and I was set on seeing the Mycaenean exhibit and the Ancient Egypt section (the mummified crocodile and ibis was pretty cool). Franzy was keen on the morbid/religious renaissance paintings, but they reminded me of Catholic school way too much for me to enjoy them. All those years of staring at Christ's miracle at the wedding in Canan, John the Baptist's head on a plate, the Crucifixion etc etc...the Mona Lisa was dead ugly too. It's a small, black, nasty little painting, yes, but you should have seen how boorish and ignorant the tourists were being, taking photos despite security yelling at them and massive signs in every language telling them DO NOT DAMAGE THE ART BY USING FLASH/ANY KIND OF PHOTOGRAPHY. It made me fear for humanity, the way the mob just didn't care for historical art, just as long as they got that photo on their camera phone...

France was romantic, chic, and the most stunningly beautiful city I have ever been to. The parks were full of amazing sculpted gardens and teeming with dark haired, grim looking sketching artists and poets. Children were sailing little boats on ponds and there were magnificent castles surrounding the scene. Plane trees lined every street and amazing architecture stood on every corner. The Notre Dame is stunning, but no hunchbacks in the belfry to be seen. We did see a scottish bagpiper busking outside??!!! Ahh Paris...it's everything the city is mythologised to be.

Truth to tell I did not enjoy England very much. I saw Buckingham Palace and had a great laugh at the pompous and funny looking guards prancing about in their big hats. It just looked really comical to me. Our hostel was next to a dirty canal that was a phosphorescent green and would have been roped off in Australia as a public health risk, and with the stinking hot weather it all seemed unreal and hallucenogenic. The Brits were really very nice people. It's not true that they have bad teeth, but there seems to be a high proportion of pasty and unattractive people in London (and the boys were better looking than the girls, so all you gorgeous Adelaide single girls, GET ON OVER THERE).I saw Picadilly Circus briefly, Big Ben and the London Eye, but the rest of the time I spent sleeping after the flight from the US.

Franzy and I are going to stay here with his Mum for a while until I get better, and then we will either go back to Paris or head off to look at some of Gaudi's architecture. Right now I am feeling a little homesick and miss everyone back home. The idea of trooping around Europe is very glam but all I want to do is sleep on a beach for the next week. I'm tired of endless subways (sometimes it feels like we have done a world tour of every city's subway network) and am looking forward to this rest.

Sam and I have spent so much time reading in hostels and on trains that we had to mail books back to Australia because we couldn't carry them! So far I have read Down and Out in Paris and London by George Orwell, Eragon by Christopher Paolini, The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova,  The Ruby in the Smoke by Philip Pullman, Franny and Zooey by JD Salinger and The Sea, The Sea by Iris Murdoch. Right now I'm about halfway through Crime and Punishment and wondering why I ever chose a book about a murderous and raving madman as a holiday read....

Ciao! 

In the midst of my last block party (on Monday, at 2 pm no less) I am scribbling a few notes before we leave NYC and accessible internet.

Don't believe the hype (truths and fallacies about NYC)

1) NYC is NOT the city that never sleeps. There were five people on the subway at 2 am  last night. On Saturday night we were kicked out of a least two places before one o'clock. (Well done, Adelaide. Three am bar closing time doesn't seem so shabby now.)

2) NYC has more people in it than the whole of Australia.

3) NYC has more rats than people. This is an entirely believable statistic (or one I'm buying into anyway). The rats on the subway are bigger than my mama. Or yours.

4) NYC is a friendly and cosmopolitan place, it is really fun to visit and not half as dangerous as TV would have you believe.

5) The food is great in NYC, the Mexican is OUTSTANDING, and I will forever despair at the pigswill that passes for Mexican food in Australia. I had several amazing meals (tamales, stuffed pasties with prawn, mushroom, peppers, duck stuffed enchiladas, fish tacos, black beans...)

6) According to Lady Rose and Sir Shaun, the clubs are actually pretty lame (even the ones you pay twenty new york dollars to get into). Ratholes with ultra fancy people in them, basically. If you are into clubbing, go to London and get into some of their crazy joints. If you are not into clubbing, you can go to bed on time like the rest of Manhattan (never sleeps, bah!) which is what I did.

Franzy and I are flying off to London tonight, to continue our perpetual jet lag and zany adventures. Will try to keep you all posted and lose my quasi-American accent fast. Will definitely miss being a novelty in America (no one, I mean no one will even take a guess at my accent; Americans have NO IDEA. Australians are a minority here, unlike London, where we will just be considered a tolerated pestilence). Lady Rose had a slightly nasty experience when she asked a New Yorker an inoffensive question (ie where is this?) and he responded: "I don't mean to be rude, but I don't like English people."

Perhaps you don't, dickwad, Lady Rose sneered, but if you knew anything about the English, you would realise my accent is NOT  English!

This incident aside, we have found New York (and Manhattan and Harlem in particular) friendly and fun to visit. So here's a victory against all the cynics. God (or Krishna, or whatever) bless America.

PS. Just in case you haven't noticed, every thing the cynics say about food and fat America is true.

Dear all,

Sorry for the long break, been busy avoiding toxic American food, like blue corn chips and orange cheese. Yep, it's a food colouring free-for-all here, and I won't forget the cheese and bacon liquid available in a sprayable can for a long time yet.

It's two am so excuse the bad writing, just wanted to give a everyone a quick update on our movements. New York is really great, very cosmopolitan and people hang out in the streets having parties in the warm weather. Saw an impressive subway rat and managed to actually faint on the subway (not due to giant rat, but due to being jammed in a human sardine tin). It was so hot out of the carriage that I kept fainting until we got above ground, and then people thought I was crazy. I have recovered enough to get a nice night of no sleep as there is a block party going on in the street below and no one gives a crap about something so trivial. New Yorkers would laugh at the fact that people in Australia can  call the police for "noise"!

The apartment we are crashing in is really nice.  Sam and I are living a mini life of luxury before we head to our cheap and nasty hotel in London in two days. We are fluctuating between sweet accomodation (ie people that put us up) and nasty, pee smelling rat holes ( ie hostels, and I, the clean freak diva, even consented to sharing a bathroom).

Franzy and I just went out for a night in Greenwich Village with My best friend and her fiance, who drove eight hours from Ottawa to be with us (bless 'em). It was really good to talk to someone else other than Franzy, who I love and adore, but talking to the same person for ten days without a single conversation with anyone else, only "thank you" and "how do we find...?" was great.

When I told Franzy I wanted to talk to someone else for a few minutes, he said "Okay, who do you want me to be?". I listed off a few of my favourite people from home and he did impersonations of them and talked to me in their voices. That, my friends, is why I am marrying this man. He made me laugh when I felt sad and reminded me of why I like him so much. Muussshy with a capital m, but that's the truth.

Love,

Mele

We made it...we survived the 12 hour flight from miserable melbourne to sunny and warm california. I made it by taking drugs, but through this blur I did notice that it went from night to day to night to day all in the space of less than 24 hours....bewildering. Disclaimer: this rant may be grammatically incorrect and badly written, but I'm blogging on in my demented state at night (again).

LAX airport is a horrible introduction to America: tunnels with fluoro lights and no windows (can't have the country looking too appealing before you get through customs) and rude airline staff. I got yelled at for not having an index finger with an appropriate fingerprint (not my fault my brother managed to chop the top off when I was a kid. It was put back on but I'm missing some "print" on my finger.) Then I got PAID OUT for bringing heaps of medicines into the country!!! I rudely replied: "Well, I'm ACTUALLY sick, I NEED them" before getting put in yet ANOTHER processing line. I felt as if I was getting sent to NAURU.

 Much of LA is concrete and palm trees (I keep wondering where the wogs are, as only wogs plant palms in Oz so abundantly--yes, that means you, Mum) and Santa Monica beach is actually gorgeous once you get past the smog. Mrs J and her husband Mr K took us to a fantastic mexican restaurant that had the greatest food you can't get back home: tamales, duck enchiladas, limeade (yummmmeeee) and all sorts of things I can't remember but tasted great. The weather is just FANTASTIC here, it's 17 C at  night...I never want to stay in Oz over winter again. If only I was rich.

And now, it's time for American Culture Shock Series One:

 a) I saw an ad for KFC which involved a guy dressed in a chicken suit riding a motorbike and jumping over a ramp/giant chicken burger. This was not a spoof. This was not a small company. It was a serious ad for a major multinational.

b) I saw a lawyer's firm that was seriously called "LAWYERS 4 U"

c) Mountain Maid lemonade is actually lemon juice IN A CAN. It is foul.

d) Strawberry Fanta is odd but drinkable.

e) There is less graffiti in LA than there is in Melbourne.

d) Krispy Kreme are YUMMY and you can get two doughnuts and a coffee (nutty tasting dishwater flavour aside) for two dollars. You can also put skim milk, full milk or something called "half and half" in your coffee. Franzy announced that the latter was possibly not milk, but he couldn't identify the taste in his cup.

e) Employees in fast food places are black, hispanic, eldery ("ie the other" for all you academic theorists out there) and are not white people. Certainly not as white as Franzy.

f) I think I have gained 5 kilos in the last twenty four hours.