Chris
Chris, never a year older than 26. I went back to the Cuvrystreet in Berlin the day after I heard the news, the place by the riverside where I last saw him. I bought a flower and thought of the times when I cut his hair underneath street lightning, talked about French girls, defied the sun in the park. Thought about his perfectly timed remarks, his humility, his ripped trousers he refused to call trousers, his high-pitched humming, his soothing eyes, stripe patterns and his incredible smile. Goodbye Chris.
disposable WOMEN – Germany
That’s where the story should have ended. The next morning in Paris I got into the van thinking we would drive through Luxembourg where I would get a train back home. The GPS led us past Luxembourg. I ended up in Germany instead.
In beautiful Heidelberg.
and strange Offenbach.
And in Berlin, where I ate the best pizza ever and I want/will live one day. Does anyone know what those blue things are in the picture below by the way?
After Berlin I went back home – not functioning properly. After being together for almost every second of the day and night they could as well have removed a limb or two. But after a day or two everything went back to normal and I got the much-needed rest and clean laundry. Especially the latter was a necessity. Puh.
ON REPEAT: Women - Heat Distraction
disposable WOMEN – Amsterdam & Paris
Two weeks ago I went to Amsterdam to see those 5 Canadians who I hadn’t seen for what seemed an eternity. After a huge delay I arrived in Amsterdam where I was greeted by the characteristic bicycles and rain. Of course I got lost and of course I ended up in a thunderstorm, arriving 4 hours later than planned.
But who would care if you finally get to see lovely people back and meet new people. Like Andy, a British student who I started talking to by accident while looking for Studio 80. Or Nick Helderman, a young photographer whose work I admire and I’d recommend to anyone interested in music photography.
Next day I went with them to Paris where they shared a line-up with the band Nurses. Their album Apple’s Acre made it into my best of 2009 list.
I’m not sure I’ll ever get the appeal of Paris. I love the streets - if only they could be deserted, I can’t find it in my heart to love the Parisians as Americans (and Canadians) seem to. I prefer understated.
When two of the Americans and I stopped for crêpes on our way back to the hotel, I discovered that Paris’ negative attitude towards Americans isn’t a myth created in the europhobic, paranoid American mind. It’s a disgrace how the crêpes vendors tried to swindle money out of them. I’m taking the American side on this one. The nicest people I met in Paris were a booker from Bordeaux and the drummer in El Boy Die from Lyon. You’re not even trying Paris.
I didn’t lose any sleep over it. I did over Matt’s weird but funny sleeping habits.
ON REPEAT: Women - Eyesore ON REPEAT: Nurses - Caterpillar
