Around the World in 80 Days, Proverbially Speaking 3

a thug at the Jewish Memorial in Berlin, Germany

Berliner Dom in Berlin, Germany

Germany is almost always our entry point in Europe. Apparently, the embassy gives out cultural visas for free. So if you, in anyway, can dance the singkil, declaim Adios, Patria adorada, or sing an Ilonggot lullaby, why not apply for a Schengen cultural visa at the German embassy? You get a free one, too hehe

Germany = sausage heaven. I'm a fan of sausages (the real ones, you naughty, naughty reader you!), so I got my chops licking whenever bratwurst, liverwurst, weißwurst, etc was served. But the most unusual kind of sausage I ate was currywurst. Basically it's chopped up bratwurst grilled and then powdered with curry. Partnered with real fries, I'll take it anytime over McDo and its ilk anytime.

I love Paris!

Of all the cities I've gone around to, Paris remains the one closest to my heart. It's where I met the man of my dreams, who swept me off my feet when I least expected it. We kissed tenderly in the softest night time drizzles, and we made sweet love until the rising sun made its presence known, peeping through the early morning clouds...

Gumising ka, Maruya.

Mwahahahahaha

The times I've been to Paris, I've always made sure to visit both the tourist traps and the local color of the city. Soaking up all the art and exhibits at the Louvre and Musée d'Orsay, marveling at the Nortre Dame and the Sacre Couer, ogling both at the Palais de Versailles and the Moulin Rouge - feast for the eyes and food for the soul. But it was also equally fascinating to discover neighborhood finds - the flakiest and most buttery croissants, the quaint corner bistros with their handwritten menus and café you can sip all-day long, the weekend market where you can buy the cheapest, freshest, and sweetest cherries and peaches. It's all of these things and much more that definitely makes Paris very memorable for me.

break from all the walking somewhere in Venice, Italy

Snowing it up in the Italian Alps

Audiences all over Europe are very appreciative whenever we do concerts. I found it weird that even if a particular performance sucked, they'd still clap their hounds out. But audiences in Italy are a different lot. Reserved is a word that's non-existent in their vocabulary. They'd shout or even roar in approval if they liked a particular song. In the more quiet passages, it wasn't unusual to see people sniffing and wiping their tears away. It makes me think that there's some truth to the saying that music is universal and transcends any language after all.

Italy is all about pasta, pizza, and gelati. There was a dinner I remember that we were fed platters of the thinnest and crunchiest pizzas I've ever tasted. The Italians would find it amusing that we would slather parmesan cheese all over non-tomato based pasta. Apparently, it's a big no-no. Oh, don't even get me started on gelati! Arrrrgh!!!

Almost 30 countires, and countless cities - yes, I've been around literally. But at the end of the day, I'd still hanker for my own bed in my own house in Manila. Give me adobo, sinigang na baboy, kare-kare, and rice anytime, please. I guess it's my own at person at work: a creature of comfort, where there's nothing sweeter than the thought of home sweet home.

Gary was right. Babalik at babalik ka rin!