In this week’s Curb Your Enthusiasm, Larry David urinates like a race-horse and accidentally sprays Jesus Christ, causing him to tear up a bit. Now, he faces controversy with a bunch of Christian organizations, as Fox News (among other sources) reports. As my colleague just said, good thing he didn’t urinate on Mohammed.

French Jews Still Anxious, Despite Calm

Falafel shop owner feels at home in Paris, but not all Jews agree. Sharon Udasin

by Sharon Udasin
Staff Writer

Paris — Nestled among Parisian gefilte fish proprietors, pickled herring vendors and boulangeries stocked with chocolate rugelach, an Israeli restaurateur yanks otherwise oblivious customers into his teeming falafel palace while Chabad boys sell palm fronds for Sukkot across the cobblestone Rue des Rosiers.

In the Marais, the traditional Jewish quarter of the French capital, neon leaflets advertise Hebrew classes and nearly every shop window has a stamp of approval from the Beth Din of Paris.

“We are in our home here,” says Yomi, the owner of the popular falafel shop, L’as du Fallafel (The Ace of Falafel), who refused to give his last name.

But step outside the close-knit quarters of the Marais district, and France’s Jews will tell you they hardly feel at home and that a low-grade but chronic anxiety gnaws at them because of their Jewish identity. And because of a persistent fear that tensions in the Middle East could escalate at a moment’s notice, leaving them vulnerable.

The war in Gaza ended 10 months ago, Hamas rocket fire into the southern Israeli town of Sderot is almost nonexistent and Iran, Israel’s existential enemy, is torn apart by internal political dissent. In other words, things are relatively quiet in Israel and the status quo is more than tolerable, say many Israelis. Yet in interviews with dozens of French Jews from Paris to Lille to Nice over the course of 10 days earlier this month, a picture emerges of a French Jewish population walking on eggshells.

Despite the 1,800 miles that separate Paris from Tel Aviv, Jews in France say they face ongoing repercussions from the ongoing Middle Eastern tensions. And it’s not only from the country’s large Arab population but perhaps even more so from native French citizens and political leaders. France, with a population of more than 62 million, boasts the largest Jewish population in Europe, as well as a growing Arab population — more than 600,000 Jews and an estimated 4 to 7 million Arabs, according to Time magazine.

“Even at university you can’t even show that you’re Jewish,” said Leah Soussan, 20, at a kosher sushi restaurant in the Marais, where she was catching up with five girlfriends home for Sukkot and Simchat Torah.

Soussan, who said she’d never dare wear a Star of David in public, decided to attend university in Israel at the Interdisciplinary Center of Herzliya, rather than stay in France. Perhaps the least traditionally dressed among her friends — she wore tight jeans while her friends all sported long skirts — Soussan actually attended a Catholic high school, where she said she tried to convert her Catholic friends into respecting her Jewish faith.

“Here there is no respect at all if they know you are Jewish,” said her friend Jessica Antunes, also 20.  Continue reading…

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Also take a look at this clip of Philippe Karsenty’s speech for American Friends of the Likud, 10/22/09:

They’ve Got A Nit To Pick

In what Harel calls the “busy season” for nits, her LiceBusters staff carefully plucks the bugs from a young client’s hair.

by Sharon Udasin
Staff Writer

Every Rosh HaShanah, as Dalya Harel welcomes friends and relatives from abroad into her home from abroad, she eagerly awaits the arrival of some other New Year favorites — apples, honey and head lice..

“It’s a very busy season,” she said. “I had guests from Israel, and I cannot tell you what they brought me.”

But these guests couldn’t have chosen a better place for their High Holy Days visit. Harel, the maven behind Lice Busters NYC, runs a thriving delousing business through her home in Flatbush, Brooklyn, where she says she receives customers from all over the country.

The crowded nature of local camps and schools, both public and private, make New York a convenient city for lice spread, according to Harel, though she says that infestations are even more prevalent in Europe and Israel, where schools don’t check students. Harel first decided to start her company in 1995, shortly after the two oldest of her nine children came home from school with lice.

“They came home and I couldn’t go to sleep at night,” she said. “You can’t sleep at night if your kids have nits in their hair.”

Harel isn’t the only leader in Brooklyn’s lice-slaying business. Her colleagues — other Orthodox women — offer equally popular delousing services throughout the densely populated borough. Some of these women include Susan Sherman at LiceBGoners, Adie Horowitz of LiCenDers and Abigail Rosenfeld, the “Lice Lady of Brooklyn.” Others include Lice Be Gone in northern New Jersey and Licebeaters, with locations in New York, New Jersey, Connecticut and Florida.

“There’s work for everybody,” Harel said.  Continue reading…

Man Of Science, Man Of Faith

Shorr, both a rabbi and a research scientist, brings God to his laboratory as he fights against cancer.

by Sharon Udasin

Staff Writer

When it comes to curing cancer, one scientist gives God all the credit as he moves one step closer to slaying the resilient killer.

Rabbi Dr. Robert Shorr, 55, the CEO of Cornerstone Pharmaceuticals, is overseeing the Phase I/II clinical trials of his newly developed cancer combatant drug, CPI-613, produced in conjunction with researchers and technology at Stony Brook University’s Long Island High Technology Incubator. Aiming to target pancreatic cancer and a wide array of other diseases, doctors are testing CPI-613 both alone and in conjunction with gemcitabine, an already standard chemotherapy treatment for pancreatic cancer — the disease that recently killed actor Patrick Swayze after a 20-month battle.

Meanwhile, as Shorr dives headlong into cancer research, the Orthodox biochemist remains a practicing rabbi, teaching students for free through the Partners in Torah over-the-phone learning service.

“I try to infuse in my professional life not [just] learning the Torah, but living it, and that’s a sanctification of Hashem’s name,” said Shorr, who finds no conflicts between matters of God and science.

For Shorr, the biggest obstacle in developing cancer drugs is the fact that no two cancer cells are the same. “Even within a single patient not all the cancer cells are going to be the same,” he said.

But Shorr’s new drug works to destroy a resource that every cancer cell needs for survival — adenosine triphosphate (ATP), the energy-transferring molecule that cells produce through glucose conversion.

“Without ATP, cells can’t do anything and they eventually die,” Shorr said. “What our drug does is turn off the ability of cancer cells to make ATP — a catastrophic shut-down of ATP synthesis.”   Continue reading…

Searching For The Right Genes

by Sharon Udasin
Staff Writer

Women with breast cancer have seen a modest increase in survival rates over the past decade, as both prophylactic and combative treatment options become more widely available, and as expertise in genetics and molecular biology continue to expand on the clinical level.

In this context, Jewish women in particular may benefit from genetic testing to determine whether or not they have BRCA1 and 2 gene deficiencies, which make one more susceptible to breast and ovarian cancers. Worldwide, breast cancer patients can also benefit now from hormonal chemotherapy treatments like tamoxifen, which inhibits estrogen from binding to its receptor, and herceptin, which inhibits the over-expressed HER2 cancer-causing growth factor receptor protein.

But what about those women — and men — who don’t respond to these targeted drugs, and therefore must be subjected to general chemotherapy? (While the majority of breast cancer patients are women, men also get breast cancer.)  Continue reading…

Well, I still love Israel — no surprise there. Apologies for the lack of blog post the entire time I was in my favorite country, especially since I was so fastidious about writing while I was in France. But Israel is my home — well, for now my second home, but hopefully my primary home one day — so I just felt like relaxing and totally unwinding during my six days there. Six days which definitely were not long enough. I got to spend time with so many wonderful people as always and definitely was not even able to see every person whom I had intended to spend time with. But Israel is Israel and it waits for me, so I will surely be back very very soon. Ben Gurion Airport staff must really be tired of me by now!

This time, I saw some things that I hadn’t expected to see — thanks to David Abitbol (@jewlicious), I was able to spend essentially an entire day touring Eastern Jerusalem, where the air smells like the most amazing spices in the world. We saw the Church of the Sepulchre and the many spots where Jesus did x, y and z, and we also walked around a lot in the Muslim quarter shuk — taking in the spices, as I said, and the knaffe. My stomach even behaved and I didn’t get sick at all after the knaffe, which is this indescribable amalgamation of sugar, cheese, honey and flour, served best in a dingy hole-in-the-wall Arab cafe that has flies swarming around the sweat-drenched tables. I also walked as close to the Dome of the Rock as possible for a non-Muslim during that hour of the day, and we chatted with the Islamic federation guy who was guarding that territory. He was surprisingly friendly and didn’t seem to mind that we were Jews, but I definitely would not dare try to cross that line. No games with these guys.

As the sunset, we all (our group now had grown to include some new friends, the Weil sisters, their uncle and Talya) made our way up to the roof of the Austrian Hospice, where you have the opportunity to see one of the most beautiful — albeit hidden — views of Jerusaelm. Such a nice and welcoming group of people, and such a nice way to spend an evening. After checking out the Green Tea Style brand soap in the Mamila Hotel bathrooms, we parted with the rest of the group and joined my amazing friend Cori Chascione (@coric) for some sushi and unforgettable conversation. Cori is 100 percent sure that I’m going to end up making aliyah, so we’ll see if I prove her right or wrong. Cori is doing some awesome work in Israel now, working as a leader for the Nativ group of American 18-ish-year-olds who are here to spend the year in Israel. In fact, we ran into a group of them on Ben Yehuda Street, where they shouted to Cori and waved their Burger King crowns at her. Now that’s love. Well, actually, that Ferrero-Rocher gelato we had at Aldo — despite the need for multiple LactAid pills, that’s love.

And then of course, there’s Liat Levy, who with her boyfriend Dotan were such generous hosts to me in Jerusalem. I’m so glad that we became such close friends, and I regret that we didn’t hang out more when she was actually living in New York. But hey, she, like Cori, is another firm believer in Sharon’s future as an Israeli citizen, so we’ll see if that happens. Liat has an amazing new apartment in Beit HaKerem, near the  science campus of Hebrew University, where she just started this past Sunday. In addition to just chilling out and watching Gossip Girl — yes, I do believe that Gossip Girl is reputable, intelligent television, seriously! — we just spent lot’s of time catching up and hanging out with her friends. Oh yeah, and there was one trip to the Jerusalem Malcha Mall (my first time there), where I have to say we looked totally out of place without floor-length skirts. On the way out though, we saw a couple of guys that were perhaps even more out of place — two 7-foot African Americans who must be basketball players in Israel (I’m saying this because of their basketball attire and mannerisms, not because I’m saying that all 7-foot African Americans in Israel are basketball players).

Another proponent of a Sharon-move to Israel is Liron Mark, who has become one of my best friends ever since we met on Taglit now nearly two and a half years ago. I’m really happy I got to spend some time with her and with the entire Mark family in Haifa as usual, even if it was for far too short of a time. In retrospect, I should’ve stayed in Israel longer a couple days longer. Next time, I certainly will. I miss the entire Mark family already — they are my Israeli family after all. In addition to having an amazing dinner with them, Liron and her mom took me to a lecture and screening of the Woody Allen/Larry David movie “Whatever Works” on Friday morning. Though I was seeing it for the second time, it was still funny, and even funnier was that the three of us were probably the only ones under 80 in the room.

I also had the chance to see my friend David Saranga (@davidsaranga) in his homeland, and he brought me with him to IDC Herzliya’s Sammy Ofer School of Communications, where he delivered a lecture to first-year students about using Web 2.0 in Israeli public diplomacy. I might pretty much know his stuff by heart, but this time, it was in Hebrew — so I needed to make friends with some of the students sitting next to me to understand completely. But I have to say, the students were really, really receptive to his lecture, and I think he should continue on the professorial track, even if it’s not full-time. That same day, I also made my way to Kfar Saba to visit Momo Lifshitz and Todd Edelman at Oranim (@oranim), to hear some more details on their latest ventures — many of which I hope to write about soon. My favorite part of their office — the humongous fish tank and killer catfish inside, as well as the mural collage behind Momo’s desk.

And I leave Tel Aviv for last because despite what Mr. Jewlicious says (he calls in “Hell Aviv” for some reason, grrr!!), Tel Aviv is my absolute favorite city in all of Israel, perhaps in all of the world. When I do move there (wow I said “when” and not “if”), that’s where I will live. One of my best choices in Tel Aviv this time was invading the Haaretz offices, where I got to hang out with both my J-School buddy Raphael Ahren (@cologneboy) and Cnaan Liphshiz (@hebrish), who together essentially man the paper’s entire English edition, Anglo File. It was great getting to see them and then getting to explore lot’s of old Yafo and Florentine — an amazing South Tel Aviv neighborhood with a really friendly trio of dogs who tend to roam the streets at night. I also fit in my beach day, of course, because Tel Aviv wouldn’t be Tel Aviv without its beautiful beaches. : ) Beautiful beaches complete with nice warm water, dead eel caracsses on the pebbly sand and awkward Arab teenagers staring down at you from the tayelet. Haha, that’s Israel for you.

The trip to the airport was not without its own hilarities, as the driver proceeded to sing me American oldie love songs in broken English. What a perfectly Israeli way to end my trip there, even though I really wish it didn’t have to end. Well, as I typed in my Facebook photo album, that just means I’ll have to be back very soon. Don’t worry, you know I’ll find a way.

My last day in Paris — and Sarah and I most definitely accomplished everything we set out to do! Musee D’Orsay, Notre Dame, Shoah Memorial, Centre Pompidou, Latin Quarter, and various other stops along the way. I’m so glad that I was randomly assigned to room with Sarah in Nice, because we ended up having so much fun together both there and here. I guess it’s really true, when you’re traveling alone, you’re bound to meet amazing people.

Tonight, after returning to the hostel (Vintage Hostel in Montmartre), I’ve been having an ongoing conversation with Ismail, who came from Algeria to study in Paris and also works a couple night shifts here. We’ve been discussing how much Jews and Arabs actually have in common, as well as the different racial difficulties each experiences in this city and in America. And we’ve talked about Israel — he 100% believes that Israel should exist; he just thinks that the West Bank should be left to the Palestinians, without settlements. Ismail says that he just wants the world to stop viewing every single Muslim as an automatic terrorist, and just let him come visit Times Square/Fifth Avenue/Statue of Liberty despite his Algerian passport. And then when we were done discussing political issues and ethnic disputes, we went on to dissect the complexities of male-female relationships, and the absolutely ridiculous yet predictable behaviors of men.

Anyway, I can’t believe my trip to France is essentially over — I mean, my vacation is not over, as I’m leaving for Israel tomorrow and will stay there until Saturday, the 17th, when I come back to New York. But as Sarah and I were discussing over dinner, the time here has gone by really, really quickly, and I can’t wait for my next adventure. I’ve learned so much about this country, about myself and about life — but I’m far from complete. I hope to learn just as much or more during my six days in Israel.

On that note, especially since it’s almost 2:30 a.m. here, I bid you goodnight. I’m sorry that this blog post was far from exciting, but today was more of a relaxing and meandering around Paris type of day with (thankfully) few mishaps. Though I did walk straight into a pole one time today and bruised myself in a really bad place. Naturally, I’m Sharon, right?

I’m way too exhausted to produce much of a blog post tonight, after a whirlwind day around Paris. Was extraordinaire, however! Today Sarah and I pretty much managed to accomplish everything we set out to do, which included moving her stuff to another hostel, seeing some pretty synagogues, climbing La Tour Eiffel, a partial visit of Notre Dame (more tomorrow), a very selective tour of the Louvre, a climb up the Arc de Triomphe and dinner on the Champs-Elysees encore. We were, however, disappointed that our dinner ended at 11:40 p.m., too late to stop by the nearby Monoprix (the French Target-esque store, but much MUCH more mesmerizing if that’s possible).

Sometime in the middle of the day today I learned that President Obama had won the Nobel Peace Prize, and honestly, at first I thought this was a joke. I mean, sure, the guy has accomplished a lot by becoming the first African American president and showing such a deep interest in the working class, but, come on. He hasn’t even done ANYTHING yet. What type of peace between people has he already achieved? Fine if you want to give him the award if that happens, but certainly not fine at this point. If anything, some of his current global policies are making the world an even more dangerous place, like all these leniencies with Iran. He’s putting Israel in an increasingly nerve-wracking positi0n, and if he maintains this completely pacifist position with Iran, Israel will be forced to take care of the world solo, as usual, meanwhile taking inevitable slack for doing everyone else’s dirty work as usual.

Sorry for the political rant when I’m supposed to be blogging about my trip, but this just upset me immensely.

Anyway, back to Paris.

You really have to be wary of pickpockets at the Eiffel Tower. While sitting in the park in front of the tower enjoying some nice baguette/mozzarella/tomato/basil sandwiches, Sarah and I were probably approached by about 10 different Arab women, fully cloaked in disheveled religious garb, asking us, “Do you speak English?” Gradually, we learned to pretend that we didn’t in fact speak English, because this question was a trap for vulnerable tourists. If you respond affirmatively, the women pull out note-cards with stories about their suffering and why you should give them money. And they’ll keep lurking around after you’ve made yourself totally clear that you’re not interested. Then there was a little boy who tried to trick us into taking a gold ring from him as some sort of distraction mechanism. Thank goodness we didn’t fall for it. I guess there’s crime in all cities, but you have to just be aware of the crime types specific to where you are in order to avoid them.

The climb up the Eiffel Tower was great though — we walked up as far as you could climb but then decided not to take the elevator to the tippy-top because it was extra money and a huge line. Views from even the lower platforms were absolutely beautiful, however, and perhaps even better later in the evening at Notre Dame. One ridiculous thing we saw — a mid-60s-year-old woman who decided it would be a good idea to climb the Eiffel Tower in designer stiletto heels, meanwhile wearing band-aids all over her clearly pained feet.  People are…well…special.

In all seriousness though, the people I have met through staying in these hostels really have been special in a good way — all of them are so smart and have such interesting stories and backgrounds. For example, my Paris roommates at the moment are a pair of Serbian sisters and one Japanese girl studying abroad in Sweden. This morning we talked about everything from Slobodan Milosevic/Serbian-Bosnian-Albanian conflicts to Japanese hair straightening products. : )

On that note, I think I’m going to head upstairs to shower and go to bed, especially since all three of my roommates are probably already sleeping (it’s after 1 a.m.), and I’m going to make enough accidental noise as it is.

Bonne nuit, Shabbat Shalom, Happy Simchat Torah, Chag Sameach.

ISRAEL IN TWO DAYS!!!

J’adore Paris. J’adore Paris so much that I am too exhausted to write much of a blog post today. I hope that j’adore Paris just as much tomorrow!

Quickly though, I’ll start where I left off last night. After departing from Archie and then my three-hour stay at the Internet cafe, I headed to the Carcassonne train station, which I have to say was pretty creepily empty at that hour, as were the streets. But I got there, and after dealing with Bank of America, I met my new friend Jeremie, a 21-year-old French marine. I learned all about the French army/naval/marine system, and as a parting gift, he gave me one of his genuine marine chapeaus — like the real white ones with the red pom-poms. I guess I’m collecting military stuff apparently, my friend Daniel’s Israeli paratroopers hat and now French marine apparel. Next donor?

I slept very well on the overnight train to Paris and arrived here at 7:30 this morning. Despite the grossness I felt from having not showered in the previously sweaty day and a half, I set out to explore Paris almost immediately after dropping my bags in the hostel luggage room. I started my day with reporting — talking to lot’s of Jews in both the Jewish part of Montmartre and the Marais quartier, about anti-Semitism and the impact of Israeli-Palestinian tensions upon the French-Jewish population. Among others, I spoke extensively with a bookstore owner, a group of 20-year-old religious girls and the Israeli owner of a falafel joint. It seems that a lot of Jews are quite afraid here and feel like the French media and government spins everything possible against the Jews. One of the girls said she wears shorter skirts here than she does in Israel so that people won’t immediately detect she’s Jewish, and one man said he covers his kipa with a baseball cap in public.

Oh yeah, and I had a kosher lunch, certified by the Beth Din of Paris. It was nice to be with so many Jews in France today, and made me look forward to Israel (Sunday!!!) even more, despite the fact that I’m loving Paris.

For the rest of the day I ran from place to place, photographing lot’s of the big monuments and walking along the Seine. I just cannot believe I’m in Paris, the fairytale city. City of love and lights — though, the Eiffel Tower doesn’t sparkle as much at night anymore because the city is joining the global greening effort, true story.

In the evening, I met up with Sarah again, and we had a really great time hanging out with two new friends, Alex and Russell, from Texas. We went out to a relatively inexpensive (relatively) near the Champs Elysees, where the food was amazing! (called “Le Hide”). Alex and Russell are a hilarious duo, and we spent the evening snapping ridiculous photographs and drinking “mini Cokes,” tiny little Coca-Cola cans sold at the infamous Monoprix superstore, which largely resembles a Target + groceries. We wanted to climb the Eiffel Tower or Arc de Triomphe, but it was a rainy, wet evening — so hopefully tomorrow the weather will remain great like it was all day today!

Okay, I really need to go to sleep now, and though I’ve already taken 79 photos of Paris according to my computer, I’m going to wait till I’ve taken all of my Paris photos to post them. Bonne nuit, and I hope everyone has had a good week going into Friday/Shabbat/Simchat Torah.

Layla tov.

What a day.

It started out great — I woke up on time for my early train, and one of my new friends — Kristy — walked me to the train station in Nice. At 6 a.m. that train station area is kinda shady, with some vagrants loitering around the vacant sex shops and otherwise seedy premises. I fell asleep on the train, naturally, but set an alarm clock and got off at the correct stop in Avignon.

Getting from the TGV station to the village centre in Avignon was a breeze — I paid just 1.20 Euro for a shuttle bus and then locked my bulky bag in a safe at the train station. Then I headed into the quaint old town, where I saw church after church (big surprise?), and then found a BNP Paribas bank chain. That’s where shit hit the fan.

BNP Paribas has some sort of agreement with Bank of America, where you can use their ATMs at no extra fee. So being the frugal traveler that I am, I was more than happy to find that bank! But apparently, the bank was not happy to see me, and the ATM decided to manger ma carte (EAT my card). Then inside the branch, I was told that no technicians were available till later in the afternoon, but even if they were available, the bank could not give me my ATM card back because for some reason, this would be illegal by French law. They would have to go through some huge bureaucratic exchange process with Bank of America, which would take a while.

So yes, now I have no bank card. Which while incredibly annoying, is not the worst thing in the world that could happen because there are other ways of getting money. If this is the worst thing that happens along my travels, I’d say I’d be pretty lucky.

After this minor mishap, I made my way to the pope’s palace, where there was a second offshoot of the papacy in the Middle Ages. I’m trying to remember why exactly there were competing papacies in the Vatican City and in Avignon…so if someone wants to remind me? Anyway, the palace was huge but kind of stuffy, and there was a German high school class all over the place the whole time. One thing I do remember though was that the pope liked to have 95,000 loaves of bread. I don’t know if that was per day or per year or per what? But that sounded insanely selfish, when I’m assuming all the peasants in surrounding villages were paying him tithes and starving. Or maybe I’m wrong.

After the palace, I finally went to go walk on the “Pont d’Avignon” — the famous bridge in Avignon that is the subject of every middle school French student’s favorite song.

“Sur le pont d’Avignon,
L’on y danse, l’on y danse,
Sur le pont d’Avignon
L’on y danse tout en rond.”

I have to admit, it was kinda amazing to be on that little fairytale bridge and pretend I was a little girl dancing across it.

From Avignon, I hopped on an early afternoon train to Carcassonne, this really petite city with a humongous medieval castle that must have once acted as a fortress. Problem was, there was no where to store my luggage, and it was a 45-minute, partially uphill trek to the castle. Having Jess Dweck’s backpack has been really convenient, but having it on my back for 45 minutes straight was a bit difficult. It’s still sore!

When I finally did get to the foot of the castle though, I had my most interesting experience for the day. I was probably about to keel over from the weight of the bag when a man called out to me in English (accent, but I didn’t know what), asking whether or not the castle was still open. Moments later, he introduced himself as Archie, 37 years old, from Holland. He offered me to store my backpack in his car, and as collateral — so that I’d trust him — he’d let me carry his car key during our trip through the castle so that there was no way he could leave with my bag. I thought that was pretty damn fair, so I took him up on his offer, figuring, worse comes to worse, I lose some sweaty clothing (all my valuables were on me).

So we enjoyed the Carcassonne castle and its surroundings together, and meanwhile, I learned all about Archie. An avid traveler, Archie just got back three months ago from a long trip to India, which was preceded by a trip to Thailand. For the past three weeks or so, he bought a cheap car and has been driving all over France and Spain, site-seeing and living in his car — a small white car that features a huge happy face on the back-right-window.

How was Archie able to afford all these vacations? Well, he answered that question completely honestly. He has been growing, selling and using huge amounts of marijuana for years and years — since he was a teenager I think. Apparently, this business in Holland is extremely lucrative, and he was telling me how you can get so much farther financially by going into this business — all of his friends do it. He said he sticks to pot though because one of his friends ended up essentially terminally ill from a heroine addiction. He also just sold his business to another friend, so he has no idea what to occupy himself with when he gets back to Holland. In Archie’s opinion, marijuana seems to be the one thing that keeps The Netherlands’ economy relatively stable.

When we got back to his car, I retrieved my bag and didn’t end up accepting a ride from him — mostly because he said he smokes pot about five times per day, so I didn’t want to be a passenger in that vehicle. So we parted ways — he to go shower at the campgrounds and type another chapter in his unpublished book — and I to go back to the newer area of Carcassonne.  Don’t worry though, I did do my Sharon duty and advised Archie to stop smoking and doing any such drugs in the future. I wanted to upload a photo of Archie and his automobile here, but for some reason the Internet won’t let me — so check Facebook.

For the past hour and a half or so, and I guess for about the next hour, I’ll be sitting in this Carcassonne Internet cafe finishing up some writing and relaxing. This town seems to pretty much shut down at 6 p.m., and my train doesn’t leave until 11:40 or something I think (I probably should check that? haha). It’s an overnight train to Paris, and I’ll meet my new friend Sarah (who I met in Nice) in the city mid-day.

I hope I enjoy Paris as much as I did when I was 15! See my Facebook profile for updated photos of Nice, Saint Paul de Vence, Avignon et Carcassonne.