Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! I finally did it. I finally lost my Let's Go: Europe book. I left it on the train this morning. I can't feaking believe it. It made it all this way, and now it's headed back to Paris without me.

sigh

Well, at least I'm back in familiar territory. I more or less know my way around Berlin, so I guess it won't kill me not to have that book... but it's been my bible for the last two months. I should have framed it or something. What a pain in my ass.

Other than that, though, I'm back in Berlin. I was a little nervous on the way here that I might not like it as much as I did when I left. I do, though. I can't stop grinning. It's fall here (and those of you from the east coast, please take a moment to consider that I've never seen a proper fall season), and it's gorgeous. Yellow and orange leaves falling everywhere, and even the pigeon that shit on the sidewalk this morning was kind enough to do it just before I walked under him.

I'm off in a minute to go check out a German language school that I've heard is good. Wish me luck...

Ah, Paris. I had a crepe today for lunch. That was delicious. More interestingly, though, I went to the catacombes (yep, lots of bones, cemented in place) and to Jim Morrison's grave. All the graffiti and his bust are gone. It was kind of a let down. I had such high expectations for chaos. The whole cemetary was crazy, though. All crypts and mausoleums, lined up along paved roads. It's like a liliputian city for the dead. No grass to be seen anywhere. I certainly wasn't expecting that.

I met up with my friend Nathan from Denmark, Sweden, etc. and we went to the Eiffel Tower tonight. I'm really glad I went at night. The view from up top is nicer, but the tower itself is really breathtaking. It made me want to grab a random stranger and start making out. I didn't, of course, but it was tempting. It just feels wrong to stand under the tower without someone to hang on. Nonetheless, I managed to drink the requisite half bottle of wine on the designated patch of lawn a few hundred yards from the tower. It was one of the top experiences of my trip, I have to say -- and that's without a romantic interest at hand.

Tomorrow I brave the Louvre. I'm kind of dreading it, but maybe it won't be so overwhelming when I get there. One more night here, and then back to Berlin for Halloween.

I made it to Paris! And more importantly, my hostel has keyboards with English-style keyboards. That means I can type about twice as fast, because I don't have to remember that the "M" is suddenly where the apostrophe used to be, and the "A" is where it belongs, ad nauseum.

So, I think it's time for some sort of general summary.

What I've been eating:
Lots of food from the grocery store. Mostly bread and cheese, with the occasional vegetable, fruit, and bit of meat thrown in. A pathetic number of hostels I've been in have not had kitchens or refrigerators available, so anything that stores well in a backpack without squishing or rotting is fair game. Cherry tomatoes are pretty good in this respect.

Food most frequently purchased at curbside stands:
Doner Kebap (known to us as gyros) all through Germany. Only two Euros, and usually pretty filling.

Food most often purchased in Rome:
Gelato. I had it once every day I was there, except for the day when I had it twice. The fig flavor was especially nice.

Thing I didn't get that I should have:
English fish and chips

Fancy-ass food I got to try thanks to my parents:
Foie Gras on salad. It is as good as they say, and not *quite* as expensive. Mmm... buttery, force-fed goose liver.

Average price for bottle of wine at grocery store (in Germany, Italy, or France):
$4-ish. You can, of course, spend more if you want to, but $4 gets a perfectly decent bottle.

Cheapest wine purchased:
$1.40 at German market. It ended up being a screw top. And no, it wasn't a good screw top either. I guess it beats out the $0.80 box wines they sell in Italy, though.

Oddest, unexpected thing I've encountered:
There doesn't seem to be a standard flushing mechanism for toilets over here. There's never a handle, always a button, and you never quite know if you should be looking on the back of the toilet, on the ceiling, on the wall, or on the floor. They put them everywehere.

Coolest group of people I'v met:
Consistently, the Australians don't suck. Except for the guy from Perth who told me he slept with a prostitute in Amsterdam... but aside from him, they've all been really cool.

Coolest accent:
Unexpectedly, South Africans sound really cool. Maybe the Kiwis and Aussies after that.

Lamest group of people:
Consistently, American college students from 19 - 22. I've met people from other countries who are this age, and they aren't nearly as obnoxious or as easy to pick out of a lineup.

Number of Faye Dunaway dopplegangers encountered:
2. One my age, and one around 50.

Number of hours spent online:
I don't want to know. And I definitely don't want to know the amount of mony involved...

I'm back. Just real quick, though... Florence was nice. I stuck out like a sore thumb with my short blonde hair. Apparently women in Italy don't bleach their hair or wear it this short... it's really the first place I've ever felt stared at.

Hi Jonathon, good to hear from you!

John - no, I'm not that sick, but I haven't been around a computer. Thanks for asking, though.

I am in the tiny medival French town of Sarlat. It's too picturesque for words. Headed to Paris in the next day or two. More later...

Well, I knew all along that it was inevitable, but I seem to have encountered some bug that my immune system couldn't hold its own against. It's not bad yet -- so far just a feeling in my throat and a certain tiredness that I can recognize -- but I'm a bit nervous about the next couple of days.

I was supposed to leave tonight for Bordeux, but the train I needed was full when I went to make a reservation... soI'll have to be a day late meeting the folks. I'm going to see the Ufizzi gallery tomorrow morning though, so at least I'll have time to do that.

I met two guys in my hostel yesterday and was absolutely sure they were from Huntington Beach or somewhere in Orange County. Nope, west coast Canadians - but I swear they talked and dressed just like OC frat boys. Not the Billabong/"lid" variety of frat boy, but the baggy-pants-pastel-polo-shirt-wearing variety. For those of you who have seen the episode of Adult Swim with the Frat Boys From Outer Space, these guys were just like that. "You know, man, when you're huggin on your bro, and, like, you just feel so warm and safe in his arms, and, like, you never want to let him go?"

To illustrate my point: This Aussie girl and I were walking around together this morning, and we ran in to the guys at one of the statues we'd gone to see. They came with us to get some gellato, but got distracted by the Puma store, and we had to leave them behind. That's right: two straight men got ditched by two girls because they were too busy looking at clothes. I had to leave when I saw one of them pick up an orange sweater-vest and seriously contemplate purchasing it. I think the other one bought a pink hoodie. For €70. I am not making this up.

I'm sure the irony of getting ditched by two girls while shopping for clothes intended to make them more attractive to girls was totally lost on them... as was any other form of irony. Or any conversation beyond "Dude, I was sooooooo drunk last night." I like to laugh at the airhead girls I meet from time to time, but these guys really took the cake. If only they were gay so they'd take themselves out of the gene pool...

Sorry... I'm back. I ended up staying in Trento a day longer than I expected. The scenery was gorgeous, and I met a girl at breakfast the day I was supposed to leave who talked me in to going hiking with her. OK, she didn't really have to try that hard to convince me, since I really WANTED to go hiking anyway, but... So we took a gondola up the side of a mountain and hiked through a tiny picturesque village and up a trail.

We had a classic "language barrier"moment while trying to find the entry place for the gondola... we knew from the map that it was supposed to be more or less where we were standing, so we walked in to a shop and said in our very limited Italian "Where is the gondola". The nice lady pointed around the corner and said many things we couldn't understand, but we thought we had an idea of where to go. We headed off around the corner, walked about a block, and realized we could now see the gondola cables... leading back to where we had just come from. Turns out the gondola entrance was immediately behind the shop we had stopped in, and the lady thought we were asking where the gondola went to. Given that we were about 5 yards from the entrance, I can understand her confusion.

Anyway, we found the gondola, went up the mountain, hiked up and up and up a hill, and just when it seemed like we were never going to hit the top of the trail, we walked in to a clearing overlooking the whole valley below and the incredible mountain ranges beyond it. That was clearly the spot for a picnic, so we unloaded our wine and cheese and avocado and dug in. I kept laughing the whole time; it didn't feel real. Trento was my perfect little Italian village: there were no tourists, almost no English speakers, and the whole town looked exactly like I had hoped Italy would look, but was afraid I wouldn't actually find. I'm really glad I had the nice nature break before heading off to Rome; when you go through big city after big city, they start to all feel the same.

So, now I'm in Rome, where I've been since the 15th. It's huge and crazy, kind of like I expected. Two little things of particular interest to me: first, every Italian stove comes with an extra small burner that is perfectly sized to the small home-brew espresso pots that everyone has. Seriously. Every Italian stove. Tiny burner.

Secondly, they tell you which side of the metro opens for which stop. I didn't understand why this was so important until I tried to ride the metro at rush hour. You have to start making your way from one side of the train to the other (this is one side to the other, not one end, so we're talking a distance of maybe 10 feet at the most) two stops before you get off. It is literally a crush of people. An You-don't-need-to-hold-the-hand-rails-because-the-people-around-you-are-supporting-you-kind of-crush.

Lastly, I keep hearing about how hot Italian guys are, but I have yet to spot any. Maybe if they'd take off their god-awful oversized, mirror-finish wrap around shades so I could actually see their eyes, it would help.

Anyway, I'm off to Florence tomorrow. I'll be there two nights, and then I head to Nice for about 4 hours before taking a night train to Bordeaux. I'm down to crunch time. That's all for now, folks.

Oh, and I've been staying with my aunt in Rome, who was sent here by her yoga organization to start a yoga school in Rome. So three cheers for a free room and an awesome yoga class this evening -- the first one in... god, 4 or 5 years? But don't worry, no weird healing crystals or magnet therapy, I promise. Just stretching and breathing. :-D

Oh, and as a final P.S. - there was a serious accident in the Rome metro this morning. I didn't get out of the house until well after it occured, so I'm OK, and don't worry if you happen to read about it.

OK, first of all, I cant find the apostrophe on the Italian keyboard, so bear with me on that one.

Secondly, Italy has been nothing but insanity so far. My train from Prague was late, so I missed my connection in Munich the night before last. I staid there overnight, then took off for Italy yesterday morning. I decided to get off in a small city called Trento, mostly because it was at least mentioned in my guidebook, and also because the train got me there at about 2:00 pm, and thats a convenient time to arrive in a new city. On the train, I had a 50 year old Italian guy who spoke absolutely no English (and apparently didnt believe in deoderant) sit down in my compartment. There are a million empty compartments on the train, but he picks mine. OK. So after about 20 minutes of trying to talk in single-word sentences, he decides its appropriate to sit down next to me and try to kiss me on the neck. "No no no no no" I say. He appologizes and sits back down across from me. Finally he takes the hint and moves to another car, after telling me several times that he loves me. GREAT...

I arrive in Trento. I was staring out the window at the amazing cliffs and mountains (the kind that were obviously created by glacial activity millions of years ago) when they announced my stop. Holy shit, I get to get off here? Its the most beautiful landscape Ive ever come across.

I get off the train and walk past two policemen with a drug dog. They stop me. In broken English, one of them asks if Im carrying any drugs, marijuana, cocaine, anything. Of course, Im not, and I tell him so. Two minutes later they stop a guy about my age, who is actually Italian... this is comforting, because at least Im not being singled out. They tell us they have to search our bags because the dog thinks we have drugs. I think the dog is after my Vegemite, but I head off with the police officers to their office in the station. The one who speaks English sternly says that if I have anything and tell him about it now, its not a big deal, but if they find anything at all that I havent told them about, it will be bad for me. Amazing how they use the same lines here as at home, huh?

I maintain my innocence, let them search my bag, and of course they dont find anything. The other kid was clean too, so I think their dog must have been having a problem or something. They were remarkably nice about the whole thing, even making a hilarious attempt to get my sleep sheet back in its sack after searching it. I finally asked if I could just do it for them, as its a weird process. Finally they let me go and pointed me towards the hostel...

Also had some weird guy walk by me and say something lewd on the street. I dont know what words were actually said, but the tone of voice got the point across pretty effectively. I gotta find a fake wedding ring somewhere. Italian men really are as crazy as Ive heard...

People told me Prague is "touristy" now. I assumed that meant tidied-up and rather tourist-oriented, like Brussels was, but nothing prepared me for this place. Completely packed wall to wall with people. Tourists with backpacks, sunglasses, and two cameras strung around their necks choke the streets. You can barely get around without bumping in to someone or getting bumped in to. I started getting as claustrophobic as I do in Costco in rush hour. It is every bit the same feeling you get at Disneyland when you're jammed in with thousands of other people, all looking around going "oooh, it's so pretty!" It was absolutely awful.

We did finally manage to get out of the very central tourist district and walk around on the outskirts a bit more. Thank goodness for that, because otherwise I would have hated Prague for ever after. It is actually quite beautiful, but you have to get away from all the people in order to see it - and it is really hard to get away from the people.

There's an awesome club a few blocks down from my hostel. The whole interior is covered in Mad Max-style welded together machine parts, most of which move in some way or another. Tables, seats, wall decorations, and the second floor of seating, which would surely violate some building code back in the states. It's fantastic. And half a liter of beer costs about a dollar. Sure a swell change from the $8 pints in Norway and Sweden.

We've decided that our hostel room is cursed. The first night, I checked in to what I was told was a mixed-gender dorm (fairly standard) that happened to have all girls at the time. Several hours after I checked in, I came back to find the girls all talking about the "weird old guy" who had just checked in to our room. I think he was an itinerant bicyclist or something, but he talked to himself and seemed generally a bit "off"... About 3:00 am, we were all awakened to him standing in the middle of the room shouting at the girl in the bunk across from his "Stop snoring! What's wrong with you! Why are you snoring so loud?"

Of course, the snoring hadn't bothered anyone except him, but now were all awake and wondering 1) why this guy had actually gotten up and walked across the room to voice his complaint, 2) what he was going to do next, and 3) if it was a good idea to go back to sleep.

The next morning, we talked to the hostel staff and they moved him to a mostly male dorm. I think they thought we were over-reacting until he started yelling at one of the girls - in front of the staff - that it was her fault he'd had to change rooms. Tons o' fun.

Then, last night, again about 3:00 am, some woman walked in to our locked room, wandered about with a laundry basket, tried to walk off with someone's towel, and finally left when the towel's owner confronted her. This morning one of the guys realized that his cell phone and MP3 player were missing from his night stand. We still have no idea what was going on there... but anyway, I've had enough of Prague, so I am finally on my way down to Rome to pick up my much-needed battery charger. 18-hour train ride, here I come!

According to my calculations, I hoofed it through about 6 kilometers of Vienna yesterday. I broke down and got myself a metro pass today. I think it's worth the €5, really. I was so worn out yesterday I took a nap *and* went to bed at 10:30. Yikes.

There's a store I've seen around Germany and Austria called C&A. It's logo is identical to the logo for C&A sugar back in the States. I wonder if it's planned that way. And I wonder if the C&A sugar people are making revenue off it? Weird...

Had my official Viennese coffee experience today. They call it a mélange - espresso and steamed milk. Sound familiar? Right, it's a latte. Tastes exactly the same as at home, except for your €3.10 you also get to sit outdoors in a café and look at beautiful architecture. You're supposed to linger over your order -- sip, read, scribble, write, or whatever; I just can't sit still that long when I'm by myself. I sipped until my coffee went cold and took off. Thought about getting a piece of Apfelstrudel (apple strudel for you monoglots), but decided to save the pastries for France, when my parents will be paying. :-)

Well, I made it to Vienna. I'm stuffed to the gills with beautiful baroque architecture. I found the Sacher hotel, but decided $9.00 was too much for a slice of cake and a cup of coffee. I went in to St. Peters Cathedral, though, and it was literally breathtaking. Pictures can't possibly do it justice, although this one tries: http://www.csua.berkeley.edu/~kahogan/Vienna/dom-interior.jpg It's absolutely huge inside. I think the ceilings are 60 feet high, and the central altar is 15 meters tall. Everything is carved in incredible high-gothic scrolls - it puts the glockenspiel to shame, as far as I'm concerned.

I'm sharing a room with 5 early risers. They were all in bed when I finally found my hostel last night (stupid guide book switched its location on the map...) at 10:00 pm, and woke me up a t 7:00 this morning munching on crackers. Sometimes I think the really big dorms are better, just because the chances of your roommates deciding that "everyone's awake and it's OK to be loud now" are much smaller.

Two more nights here, and I'm off first thing the morning after tomorrow for Prague.

OK, after attempting to sleep with my monster of a backpack at the foot of my bed last night and failing (who builds a sleeper train without a luggage rack? or a locker? something?) I got in to Munich this morning at 7:00 am. It doesn't get light here until close to 8:00 am. That was a shock. Dropped my bags off and slogged my ass around for a few hours until I could come back and check in to the hostel. I actually ended up going to a really cool museum that has all kinds of weird exhibits - like an entire room of printing presses, and a huge section on the history of the textile industry, and collections of musical instruments, and old foot and/or steam powered flying machines (picture a bike with wings). I didn't get out of there for almost 4 hours. Came back to the hostel and took a much-needed 3 hour nap, and I'm finally starting to feel like I'm going to be OK. When I get that tired it just feels like to whole world is going to collapse and I'm powerless to do anything about it. And that sucks. So thank you all for writing to me. Especially Jesse and Max, I don't even remember sending you my blog, but hi there!

I always heard that "everyone speaks English" in Europe, but I didn't really understand what that meant. I felt kind of bad, because I thought it was just another example of lame American hegemony or something, but now that I'm here I understand that it's actually necessary for Europeans to have a common language to interact with each other. In Berlin I would walk in to cafes and hear three people speaking to each other in English, each with a different accent. Of course, I still feel bad that I don't really know any other languages, but wow is it convenient for me that everyone knows mine. I did have fun surprising some Japanese girls in my hostel with the few sentences of Japanese that I can still string together. I can't really understand it (never could, even when I was studying), but they were so excited to hear a few words of their own language that it still made me smile. I can't imagine having to get around Europe with only the Japanese language... yikes. I think I feel out of place sometimes.

I don't really like Munich much. There are some nice buildings, but they're full of more Dolce and Gabanna and Louis Vitton than any stretch of Beverly Hills I've ever come across. Laaaaame. I think I'll stay one more night so I can see Dachau concentration camp, but after that I'm taking off. I haven't decided if I'm going to head back up to Prague or go straight to Switzerland, but I guess I'll have to get my schedule worked out one way or the other.

I drank way too much last night. Waking up with a hangover in a strange city is not fun. I desperately wanted some hashbrowns and eggs, but had no idea where to get something like that at 2:00 in the afternoon. That led to a total homesick meltdown - all I wanted was to curl up on a friend's couch and watch stupid movies all day, and instead here I am with no friends, no couch, no TV, no hangover food, and a language I speak only well enough to say "please" and "thank you" in. I felt totally overwhelmed by the foreigness of it all, and I just wanted to see a familiar face again. I finally got myself together enough to book my reservation for the train to Munich, and I feel better, but I'm still feeling lonely and exhausted. I never thought I'd say this, but I'm tired of hanging out with different people every night. I just want to see someone I know well... I miss you all. Please leave me comments, it makes me happy to see them.

I really don't want to leave Berlin. I have to leave for a while, because I have my Eurrail pass and I need to use it up and see other places over here, but I'm only considering it a short term absence. I have to find a way to stay here for a while. Even if it means working a shit job and trying to scrape by for a while, I'm coming back here.

Last night I went out drinking with an Italian guy from my hostel. He's 27, has lived in four different countries, speaks 4 languages, and just graduated from university. And that's perfectly normal here. He was shocked to learn that I'm 24 and have been done with school and working for the last 3 years. Where as at home everyone expects that you should be on some sort of career path at my age, over here you're *supposed* to be traveling. It isn't considered a frivolous waste of time that could be better spent, it's important and expected that you spend time in other places. The Australians are still traveling and working odd jobs to support themselves through their late 20s, and again, that's perfectly OK with everyone. No one thinks they're throwing their future careers down the drain. No one says to them "Well, if you go and try to get a job at 27 and don't have a solid work history, no one will hire you." No one tells them that it's time to settle down and get a real job and start being an adult.

I'm only 24. I have plenty of time left to be an adult. I have the entire rest of my life to be a grown up. If I spend a year or two over here, I'll have an experience that I will never be able to have at any other time in my life. I love this place. I can breathe here. There's energy everywhere, you can see it everywhere you look. People don't seem as dead and stuck as they do in LA. I feel like here there's a chance to actually do something creative and find people to share it with. I don't want to leave and spend the rest of my life wondering what would have happened if I stayed.