Post Cards From Europe
By Keith Boykin, in pop culture
Tuesday, June 24 2003, 4:35AM
We left the United States on June 9. Two weeks later, we had been to five countries and three major European cities. I visited London, Paris, Amsterdam and Guernsey. Here are my online post cards.
Monday, June 9
Queen Latifah kept us tapping our feet to the tune of "When You're Good to Mama" from the film Chicago that was shown on the British Airways flight to Heathrow. I flipped through the pages of Hillary Clinton's new book Living History but didn't have the energy to do more than read the captions on the pictures. Funny how most of the black people in the photographs are shown by themselves instead of with Mrs. Clinton.
We arrived in London just in time to have dinner at Balan's in Soho. The pasty Thai Chicken dish and the weak Long Island Iced Tea left me longing for more. And the outrageously expensive bill only made it worse when we realized the U.S. dollar price was double the pound price. Ouch.
Tuesday, June 10
I bought a bagel with lox at the Waterloo train station and found it surprisingly enjoyable as I ate it on the train ride to Paris.
For some reason, nobody else brought their own food and every snot-nosed kid in Europe decided to run up and down the aisles of the train to the café car. I put my foot down, literally in the aisle, to stop them, but they continued running and jumped right over my leg. I guess European parents can be just as neglectful as American parents.
Despite my best efforts to cram an entire language in a three-hour train ride, I arrived in Paris without speaking French.
We took the subway from the Cadet stop near our hotel to the Champs Elysees. Ignoring the French announcement on the P.A. system, we unboarded at our stop and walked to the exit only to be turned around by guards at the gate. "The station is closed because of a strike," one of them was kind enough to tell us in English. We got back on the train and got off at the Concorde stop just as a colorful parade of demonstrators were marching into the famous plaza where Marie Antoinette was guillotined.
Because of the strike, the police blockaded the entrance to the Champs Elysees to the demonstrators, so we had to walk along a mile-long barricade to get back to the other side of the metal gates. Once we made it behind the police barricade, the Champs Elysees was completely empty of vehicular traffic, allowing us to walk right through the middle of the famous avenue.
Finally at the end of the street, Nathan and I kissed underneath the Arc de Triomphe in a symbolic gesture of love at a monument built to honor the victories of war.
We walked through the same archway that Adolph Hitler's Nazi troops goosesteped when the Germans occupied France during World War II. In that moment, it was easy to understand why the French were so resistant to George Bush's unnecessary U.S. war against Iraq. Unlike Americans, the French have seen the consequences of war in their homeland for centuries. No people who have suffered through the real misery of war would enter into another one lightly.
Wednesday, June 11
The weather was hot in Paris. By mid morning, the temperature had soared into the 80s. It was even warmer when we boarded a riverboat for a mid-day tour of the city along the Seine River.
The boat tour took us past the National Assembly, the Louvre museum, Notre Dame, the Eiffel Tower, Radio France and the replica of the American Statue of Liberty.
Afterward, we made our obligatory pilgrimage to see the Mona Lisa, the Venus de Milo and the other great works of art at the Louvre. But it was the grandeur of Napoleon's ornate apartment complex that most fascinated me. A huge long dining room set for 50 people forced me to imagine what a state dinner party must have been like in Napoleon's time.
Our dinner that night was much more modest than Napoleon's but no less enjoyable as we sampled the paella and the various tapas at a popular Spanish restaurant called Chica Boca. With the assistance of a American friend living in Paris who led us to the restaurant, we devoured four carafes of Sangria, but the party was just beginning.
Nathan was propositioned that night by an older French gentleman at a popular bar in the Marais district. When he told the man that he was already taken, the Frenchman was shocked. "Impossible," he said, gesturing toward me. "It's impossible that you could have a black boyfriend." I guess the men in Paris aren't that different from the ones in New York after all.
Thursday, June 12
After three days in Paris, we still had not visited the Eiffel Tower. Sure, we had seen it many times and photographed it as a backdrop for a number of our pictures. But we had yet to climb to the top of the tower.
The subway ride was almost unbearable that day. The hot temperature combined with the French hygiene habits, the crowded rush hour trains, and a long commute made for a potent combination. By the time we reached the Eiffel Tower, the clouds had begun to block the sun. We stopped at a souvenir booth where I saw an apron that I thought my mom would like. Then we finally made it to the tower.
The charitably short line at the foot of the tower should have warned us of the weather that would emerge. Halfway through the line, the skies opened and poured buckets of water on us. We had come halfway across the world to be here, so we were not about to let the rain drive us away.
The view of Paris from the top of the Eiffel Tower was clearly the highlight of the trip for me. After you've been to the top of the Eiffel Tower, everything else on the ground seems to pale in comparison. When we set foot back on the ground, we spent the afternoon shopping and relaxing before our overnight train trip to Amsterdam.
Friday, June 13 - Sunday, June 15
If anybody ever tells you to buy a sleeper car ticket from Paris to Amsterdam, don't listen to them. The cars are so small that we traded down for regular seats on the train. It's a pleasant ride through France and Belgium to get to Amsterdam. Unfortunately for me, in my haste to unboard in Amsterdam, I forgot my CD case and lost about a dozen of my favorite CDs for good.
I have never been to Amsterdam before, but I had heard so much about it that I was really looking forward to my stay there. I can only speak for myself about the city, but I had more fun there than any place I've visited in a long, long time.
We walked around the quaint old streets and past the canals that circle the city. We saw Rembrandt's famous masterpiece "The Night Watch" at the Rikjmuseum. But to be perfectly honest, the highlight of Amsterdam for me was the freedom to party.
Maybe it's because I don't smoke weed or do drugs that I enjoyed the culture of Amsterdam so much. Since marijuana is legal in the country, I decided I would try it out. I have only smoked marijuana two other times in my life. The first was illegal when I was a kid in St. Louis. The second time was legal when I was a college student living in Spain.
On the first day in Amsterdam, I found a coffee shop called Rookies that sells weed by the menu. I took my first puff while sitting at a table in the bar. Later that day I discovered the wonders of hash-laced space muffins sold at a place called Global Chillage. Then I came across an Internet café that sells computer time, alcohol and marijuana. I checked my email, had a drink, and smoked a joint. From that point on, I was lit.
Amsterdam is a city of freedom. So hey, when in Amsterdam, do as the Amsterdamites, right? But I quickly realized that most of the people I saw getting high in the bars and coffee shops were tourists, not locals. Despite the freedom to use marijuana legally, Amsterdam does not have a major drug problem.
Nor does Amsterdam have a problem with crime. And this is a city where gambling and prostitution are both perfectly legal. In the daytime, I lost a few Euros in the slot machines at the Holland Casino and at night, I strolled past the scantily-clad women posing in the windows of the red-light district. The police stood by and watched for crowd control, not for morality control.
There's a lesson in Amsterdam for Puritanical Americans who want to regulate every aspect of individual personal behavior. Freedom doesn't necessarily make people irresponsible. Instead, it gives them choices.
Monday, June 16 - Thursday, June 19
When I moved to New York two years ago, my best friend from law school left New York to move to England. England is easy enough to visit, but after two years, I still hadn't seen his new place. But my friend doesn't live in London, where most Americans living in England tend to settle. Instead, he lives in the Channel Islands.
Before I took the short flight over the English Channel, the only image I had of the Channel Islands came from Nicole Kidman's movie The Others. That film supposedly took place on the island of Jersey, but my friend lives on the island of Guernsey. And what a beautiful island it is.
Standing at the base of Moulin Huet Bay or dining al fresco perched atop a cliff at the Auberge restaurant, I saw first hand the natural beauty that attracted my friend to move to this remote location.
With a population of only 60,000 people, the island still boasts an impressive array of tennis clubs, golf courses, restaurants and shops. Guernsey feels like a resort vacation spot for wealthy Europeans, but many locals live there year round.
Guernsey seems like a lovely place to get away for awhile and write, but I don't think I could live there forever. London, on the other hand, seems quite livable, except for the cost of living. After my trip to Guernsey, I flew back to London to rejoin my traveling partners for some final sightseeing and partying.
Following dinner in Soho one night, we had drinks at Kudos bar and then spent the night dancing at the Shadow Lounge. On our last day, we ate lunch at a beautiful new American restaurant called Smollensky's that sits along the Thames River and offers a stunning view of the London Bridge.
On the flight home to New York, I watched a couple of movies to keep me occupied. I liked Catch Me If You Can but didn't really care for the formulaic How To Lose A Guy in 10 Days. To celebrate the end of our trip, I had a drink.
I usually don't drink on airplanes, but I made an exception for the final leg of the trip. And alcohol is actually free on British Airways flights. In a final gesture of camaraderie, we raised our glasses in a toast to a successful trip and the joy of travel.
Pictures From Paris
On the train from London to Paris
Kissing at the Arc De Triomphe
Pictures From Amsterdam
Overlooking a canal In Amsterdam
Rookies website: the best little coffee shop in Amsterdam
Global Chillage website: the best space muffins in Amsterdam
Pictures From Guernsey
