At a japanese barbecue in Amsterdam I talked to a Hitachi manager who had just arrived in the Netherlands (but who had been working in Germany and Mexico before). Over a glass of wine he told me that he and his family boycott french products ever since the french nuclear bomb tests in the south pacific. When I asked, if he had not considered the french refusal to go to war in Iraq as a good enough reason to reconsider the boycott he smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

At the time of those nuclear bomb tests I had just moved from France to Sweden. Shortly after arriving I got to exhibit in the university’s art gallery. I had invited some friends of mine from France to participate and already announced that in the papers. The communication with my friends was a bit slow and I got annoyed with them and aIstarted to have doubts about the quality of their contribution. I decided to just close the blinds of the gallery’s shop front and to put up posters, explaining that the exhibition did not take place due to a “boycott of french culture”. I watched people reading the posters from inside the gallery. Many of them nodded to themselves when they had finished.

At the barbecue I also learned that the japanese companies with offices in Amsterdam play baseball against each other regularly and that japanese men working in Europe have difficulties picking up european women while their female colleagues find it rather easy to pick up european men.

Once more I couldn’t resist and went to buy a coffee in the “Bordbistro” on the Intercity between Berlin and Amsterdam. For the first time in 3 years they weren’t out of espresso.

The Waiter is a guy in his late 50s with a red face whose heavy breathing and body language imply that he may be the victim of a cardiac crisis any minute is busy looking for something in the Bordbistro’s multitude of cabinets, drawers and compartments. He ignores me for about 2 minutes before making some strange noise that is supposed to mean “Don’t you see that I’m busy. It’s not your turn yet”. Then he yells across the bistro: “Your chili!” A black guy comes over, the waiter mumbles something like “You have to pay”. My first thought was that I would probably have had to intervene and complain about the waiters racist attitude, if I had not received a very similarly treatment.

Paying with a handful of coins I can see the cardiac crisis rising again. The espresso is a disappointment: There is no difference in taste between the expresso and coffee (both are watery). When the say, that they are out of espresso, I assume they mean that they are out of espresso cups. You get about 5 times the amount when you order coffee.

I decide that nevertheless it’s a good day for the waiter: buying overpriced xxs coffee I support Deutsche Bahn in their quest against EasyJet and RyanAir. I’m afraid that being equally impolite to all clients is no sufficient qualification for a job at EasyJet. I expect they do medical checks too, before employing one as a flight attendant.

Top 5 train incidents:

1. Kopenhagen – Hamburg 1995
   I share a couchette with two Africans. We have a good conversation. At the German Bundesgrenzschutz officers enter the train and look at their papers. They decide to arrest them and ask me to translate because they don’t speak english well enough and there is confusion.
2. Malm̦ РBerlin 2001
   I share a couchette with a bum who gets into a small dispute with the conductor. Later on the ferry, when everybody leaves the train, i see the conductor and the bum at the same table (the bum drinking beer and the conductor apple juice). I listen to their conversation. The bum talks about how he travels to scandinavia frequently and how he likes to spend winter their because the facilities for homeless people are better in Sweden. The next morning I see them shake Hands when the bum gets off the train.
3. Schladming – Moutier(s) 1990
   After two weeks of skiing in Schladming (Austria) I want to meet up with friends and with my brother for some more skiing in Val Thorens (France). I had bbought the train ticket at a travel agency before going to Austria. With my ticket I had received a list with all the trains I had to take. My Friends were supposed to pick me up at the railway station in Moutier(s). I waited for a couple of hours before I decided to change little Austrian money to French Francs (this was before the cell phone era). To my surprise I got Swiss Franks back. The travel agency had sold me a train ticket to Moutier in Switzerland instead of one to Moutiers In France. The distance between two towns is approximately 250 kilometres.
4. Besancon – Montpellier 2002
   After a very exhausting party weekend in Dijon where a friend of mine got married I need to get to Montpellier where want to meet another friend. I have a mountain bike with me. I am allowed to take the bike an the train from Dijon to Muelhouse where I arrive Sunday night at about 0:00. When I want to get on the train to Montpellier the conductor wont let me, because I don’t have a reservation for the bicycle. The train is almost empty and there is a special place for bikes (also empty). not really having a choice, I decide to get on the train anyway. I take apart an put it behind my seat, where it does not take more space than a big samsonite. The conductor threatens to throw me out and finally makes me pay more for the bike than for myself. At the station in Motpellier a get told that there is no place to place a complaint at SNCF (the state owned French railway company).
5. Strasbourg – Feiburg 1996
   A french couple orders champagne in the Bordbistro of a German ICE. The Waiter gives them sekt (German sparkling wine) and insists that there is no difference between Sekt and champagne. I intervene.

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