Day Four

Blau Haus















Sharyn goes to work and leaves me to my own devices. This is her tiny office at The Blue House, the historical site in Breisach that she went to Germany to work for. She was supposed to spend her days teaching about the history of Jews in Breisach and explain to young German kids how not to slaughter them. Instead though, she find herself sitting at this desk all day, talking to me on the internet. In between getting yelled at by her boss to scrub the floors and windows harder. She's just like Cinderella. If Cinderella were a dyke.

Breisach















I spend the day traveling around the little town of Breisach. This is the first time I am by myself in Germany. I tour the village via Sharyn's bicycle and got quite a workout. See, this church at the top of that mountain? I ride the bike to the top. It's a lot more steep than it looks from here. The bike seat causes me a lot of soreness by the end of the day. It's the most action I ever get on this trip.

Breisach















Here is the culprit now! This saucy little bicycle is my trusty sidekick for the day. I call him Speedy. Sharyn neglects to tell me that he had a flat tire the whole day, though. Germans point and shout at me all day long, trying to alert my to Speedy's problem. I just assume shouting and yelling is how they normally treat people.

France















I ride Speedy over the Rhine into France. The first sight that France offers me is these power lines. This is what French Cancer looks like. Much like the French themselves, the power lines stand high and mighty. They also smell pretty bad.

Gypsy Curse















Back in Freiburg, the gypsy curse visits Sharyn as in begins to rain. This is the third day in a row that it has rained just as we planned to head over to a beer garden. We are both disappointed. This is what happens to Sharyn's face when disappointment strikes. By this point I have tried German beer, but not yet in a garden venue. I don't want to miss the beer gardens, so I hope the sun comes out before I leave for America. And I hope Sharyn stops making that face.

Freiburg



















It's a beautiful German rainbow to match my beautiful German expression. At least that's as happy as ones expression is allowed to be in Germany. I reflect on how appropriate the rainbow is as we walk along to Freiburg's lone gay cafe, Jos Fritz. Judy Garland would be shining down on us from heaven if she weren't conditioned through years of propaganda to hate Nazis. So I bet she doesn't get over here much.

Jos Fritz















At the cafe, I meet Shayrn's friend Simon (pronounced ZEE-mone, cause German's are weird). He is the only person I've ever met who wears more bangle jewelry and gaudy beads than Sharyn. To his credit, just like Sharyn, he pulls it off.

Day Five

Colmar















Sharyn, two of her fellow Blau Haus slaves, and I travel to France to see what all the fuss is about. Since the town of Colmar is so close to the border of Germany and was German-controled for so long, it is very German-seeming, except they speak French. And unlike Germany, they have Tropicana orange juice and salted butter at the supermarket. Sharyn buys both to smuggle back across the border. Here we are getting lost and eating disgustingly dark French chocolate. Salt in their butter, yes. Sugar in their sweets, no. Crazy.

Colmar















Colmar is the birthplace of Frédéric-Auguste Bartholdi, the designer and sculptor of The Statue of Liberty. They are very proud of this claim to fame so there is Statue of Liberty tchotchkes everywhere. It is like being in New York, but with more attitude. This is the house Bartholdi was born in, which is now a museum of his work. The mueseum is getting cable put in today, hence the truck. I am amused at the juxtoposition of a cable truck parked next to a famous sculpture. Modern chic.

Colmar



















We eat at a small French restaurant that serves Flammkuchen, which literally means flaming cake. It is essentially this area of Europe's equivalent of pizza, but rather than sauce, they use cream. I have mine with garlic and cheeses and it is delicious. But a gay-friendly pizza would have to be, right? Colmar also has a lot more chain stores than Freiburg. Doesn't it look like we are eating lunch at Claire's Accessories?

Colmar















I cannot go to France and not eat a bagette. It just seems wrong not to. So here I am, after awkening from a peaceful nap in some French park, chomping away on a delicious bagette. Mmmmm.... A phalus never tasted so good.

Sushi Boat



















Back in Freiburg, we meet Sharyn's bestest friend in Germany, Lexie. Like Sharyn, Lexie is an American import. Lexie is the perfect amount of Matthew mixed with the perfect amount of Diane. She seems to keep Sharyn grounded (like me!) and is also willing to do any stupid thing Sharyn tells her too (like Diane!). If her name wasn't so darn sexy, I would insist she change it to Dianthew. She is also a kleptomaniac. We go to a sushi boat restaurant, where the sushi is placed on little colored plates that go into little boats. The boats flow past the customers on the river of water encircled by the seating area. As the sushi floats by, patrons must choose what they would like and take it from the boat. When you pay, a gentleman comes by and counts the number of colored plates you have to determine how much you owe. Well for a price of ten Euros for four plates of sushi, we can not afford to be full. Luckily, Lexie is clever enough (like me!) and sneaky enough (like Diane!) to slowly take the plates and hide them in her purse. By the time we pay, she steals six plates of sushi. Sharyn and Lexi show off their "earnings" proudly. We ate like kings and have some neat Japanese parting gifts to boot. I love Dianthew.

Beer Garden















We finally arrive at a Beer Garden. Over the past few days of Germany I have developed into quite the little beer drinker. Never really touched the stuff much before, but I vowed to enjoy myself in their frothy brew while staying in thir country. Turns out beer is great. And it makes me silly. And even gayer!

Beer Garden















Apparnetly beer also makes me saucy.

Final Day

Freiburg















On my final day, Sharyn and I sleep till 2pm, but I have about 18 hours of traveling ahead of me so I don't feel so bad. Very tired from our week, Sharyn and I go to lunch and do little else today. Besides drink. If you aren't drinking beer at all times in Germany, you have to pay some sort of tax or something. This photograph is meant to show off Sharyn's disgusting cigarette habit, but instead it just makes her look fabulous. Like a lesbian Audrey Hepburn.

Jos Fritz















I have a train to catch at midnight, so of course we want to get as drunk as possible beforehand to see me off. We return to big gay cafe Jos Fritz. I spy a garden gnome sneaking up behind Sharyn. Someone should tell this gnome that Sharyn may look like easy prey, but she bites! And not just nibbles. I'm talking dinosaur!

Jos Fritz















Sharyn enjoys a delicious Radler. This is why the Germans are so amazing and fearless. They do things with beer we timid Americans can not even consider. Radler is a drink consisting of 50% Hiefeweissen beer and 50% leomnade. It is the greatest drink ever. I drank so much Radler this week I should be in the hospital by now instead of sitting in a garden surrounded by gay gnomes. Soooo good. And it's not just lemonade. Germans are so bold as to rule nothing out when in the service of beer making. They mix it with cola and jusices. Even bannana juice. Which is just disgusting. But you have to hand it to them; there is no line they will not cross.

Gypsy Curse















We spend a good 40 minutes trying to take candid shots of Sharyn while we speak in order to break her gypsy curse. I took 55 pictures at this time of just her laughing and talking and being herself. You would think one, just one, of those pictures would come out well. But no. It's truly a paradox. I look at her through the camera's lense and she looks lovely, but as soon as the picture is snapped, some sort of ancient evil takes its toll and she winds up looking like this.
















Or this.
















Or Good God! Like This!

Bahnhof















Finally, our trip is at an end. Sharyn sees me off on the train platform. We put on braves faces of humor and happiness, though I am very sad. But also drunk and tired. So it makes it a little easier. Though I miss her terribly, she will be home again at the end of August. And we can talk to people who speak English. I can't wait for our next trip together!