The train is always the same and so are the vineyards, the trees just starting to change. Europe holds on to its roots. Once in Florence a guy said to me, in the States you live in the future; we… Read More ›
Travelogues
A form of removal
I wrote to remember but you could never come close. The writing became a form of reliving, a cheap copy. It was the worst kind of navel gazing writing letters to your future selves. But I would sooner err on… Read More ›
The church bells all were broken
They keep the windows cracked in most rooms so it’s drafty and the radiators don’t seem to work or they’re not on. The Moroccan rug Laurent pulled out of the attic for Lily is musty smelling and so is the… Read More ›
Bringing it all back home
The shower at Laurent and Nanou’s isn’t like the ones back home, it’s an exposed clawfoot tub with no shower lining. They keep a squeegee the size of a broomstick beside it to push the water into a central drain…. Read More ›
Dimanche
Time distends when we’re in France. We get up late, stay up late, eat late and we don’t make plans. No one is open for lunch on a Saturday so we order eight pizzas and Laurent gets out the fresh… Read More ›
The A8 to Karlsruhe
Outside it was so cold I could see my breath, with frost on the grass and all the trees looking shriveled. I waited until just before sunrise to climb the Himmelsleiter and that made the steep hillsides look pink-gold. Evenly… Read More ›
What the French would do
More of the pfeffer schnitzel with the light brown sauce and French fries, a side salad and dessert: what looks like little sugar-coated, deep fried donuts is an apple cake thing with a vanilla sauce, fresh whipped cream, fruit garnish… Read More ›
Still-life red
Woke late, found it October all of the sudden, took the route through the wooded valley off the Himmelsleiter. Got caught behind a class of students also taking the steps up but who mysteriously vanished. Pocketed a fresh chestnut fallen… Read More ›
Erste und Letzte (firsts and lasts)
That first walk up the Himmelsleiter was the best and darkest, my first morning back in Germany. The Himmelsleiter, that long set of narrow steps up the vineyards, through the spooky underpass beneath the train tracks in the dark, crossing… Read More ›
Vivid Youth
Tired as I was I still had that Christmas morning feeling of excitement that had me wanting to get out of bed. I’d been up since 01:11 and committed myself to staying in bed until 3. Something about 3 vs…. Read More ›
Bill Pearse 