i've never had good luck in France.

the other day i got "washed" in the french pay toilet. the french feel that peeing is something that should be paid for. they have these toilet booth/capsules that you pay 30 cents to use. when you shut the door and leave, the booth cleans itself. this is a detail that i knew, but had forgotten. to save money, some of us decided to try and cheat the pay toilets by holding the door open for the next person to go in.

so, i go into this metal vault, close the door and immediately hear water whooshing and machine noises. this is when i remembered the "cleaning" bit and started pushing on the door to try to get out. it wouldn't budge. it was like being buried alive or something and i really thought for a few seconds that i might get drowned. i finally found the little red button that releases you from the vault just as water started flooding the floor. so my shoes and the bottom of my jeans got "cleaned".

and really, why was i trying to save 30 cents? what am i? a vagabond?







so far i have danced through Newcastle, York, London, Basingstoke, Tewkesbury, Cardiff, Torquay and Brussels.

i'm sorry that i haven't had much of a chance to enjoy the nightlife in these places. well, particularly London and Brussels. after the show we're usually hungry and beat. still, i'm disappointed in myself for not getting up more in London because of the electronic music scene that has always thrived there.

some food highlights of the trip have been the lot of us going to this beautiful park in Gloucestershire and having tea in the tea room there. we had some of the most delicious, fluffy, and warm scones ever!

ok, the biggest food orgasm...maybe of the year? guys, are you listening? in Brussels. how can i put this. there is nothing...NOTHING like a belgian waffle bought from a street vendor. it is MAGIC, do you understand? it's like elves make them.

those "belgian waffles" that we eat in restaurants in the US...are NOT fucking belgian waffles.

for a real belgian waffle you will take the risk of deboarding the train that is leaving in 15 minutes to take you to France to run like a maniac through the train station and outside to the street to throw yourself onto the waffle van. 3 euros buys you two waffles that are so good that they seem impossible. it's like tasting a fairy tale. they make them fresh then put some kind of sugar on them while they're hot and this crystalizes and forms a light syrup. the thing is warm, crisp, soft on the inside, juicy and buttery. i am forever ruined.




this week we are staying at the Chateau Marouatte. Miles (our boss) has owned it for the past 20 years. it's pretty fantastic. we have 3 french cooks and they are stuffing us with deliciousness 3 times a day. the castle is full of gothic art and furniture, just the way you'd expect a castle to look on the inside.

i'll post castle photos tomorrow.