Last Few Moments in Paris

Dinner out last night in Paris

Me and My Favorite Men!

The Best Mom in the World!

All of Paris felt like donuts for dinner. It was amazingly sweet and charming but consistently left me wanting more. I wanted to discover one more neighborhood. One more charming market. One more delicious bistro. And take just one more picture of the captivating scenery. I couldn't get enough.

There were a few things I could leave behind: men treating all of the outdoors as their personal urinal, the local creperie/bistro/boulangerie not giving me the correct change back (note: just because I don't speak French very well, does not mean that I cannot do the math as to how much I owe the said shop-keeper and how much they should give me back), teeny-tiny uncomfortable bed that fell through the slats three different times. In the middle of the night. When we were dead asleep. What a way to wake-up.

However, I think most people thought MBA was French. Dark hair + blue eyes = French. People constantly addressed him in French. Asked him for directions in French. He even had a meeting with one of the professors at Institut Catholique who spoke with him in French for several minutes before asking MBA if he would prefer to converse in English.

Oh how I wish I could have been a spectator of that conversation! If you didn't already know, MBA was taking beginners French. And while he learned a lot, he's understandably still a beginner.

But traveling in a different country where you hardly know a lick of the language grants a new found confidence. I'm now in Germany -- don't know a bit of German (ashamedly) -- but have tried, tried, tried to communicate. It's incredible how many people know English here. Especially unexpected ones like the Turkish worker at the donner kebab shop in the heart of East Berlin (wait till I show you pictures -- it's unreal). Let me tell you, there are not many American tourist in these parts. But Mr. Donner Kebab responded to me in beautiful English. Amazing. Geez -- how I wish I could converse with the people around me. I want to know all about their lives. Their personal history would likely be endlessly fascinating.

Berlin is not pretty. It stands in stark contrast to Paris. I'm sure you're thinking "duh." I'm thinking that myself .... but it's the sheer vastness of the city that's astounding. The length from metro stop to metro stop. The endless communist blocks still standing. I read that Berlin is nine times the size of Paris. That's big!

I'll be back with more picture and tales later. For now, I'm going to gaze/stare/study the view out my window: East Berlin.