Friday, August 05, 2005


It was bound to happen sooner or later, but Travel-cholia has finally set in for all of us. After 8 weeks on the road, we are finally sick of sleeping on strange pillows, conducting cryptic conversations with miniscule vocabularies and longing for soft toilet paper.

The full symptoms include a strong feeling that you have traveled a very long way only to discover that the place you really want to be is back where you started. When we hit Hamburg we spent a full week laying around the house and avoiding doing anything culturally significant whatsoever.

We have each constructed elaborate fantasies involving burning all of our travel clothes. I long to walk into a bakery where I know the name for the kind of bread I want, or to stay someplace where the kitchen has a sharp knife and a heavy skillet.