Continental armpits

My sister Claire is assimilating in Frankfurt:

‘I am truly amazed at my ability to settle in anywhere, despite the inevitable week of hell that precedes the realisation that I should make the best of it. Which is not to say that I want to stay here a second longer than I have to, but it’s not so bad…for Germany.

Turns out my apartment is a lot bigger and nicer than either Richard or Larissa’s, and they’re very jealous. I’m getting quite attached to the 80’s d&eacutecor (or maybe it’s shit hot in Germany still). I regaled Richard with tales of David Hasselhoff’s big break as a singer in Germany—he had no idea how multitalented our David is. It’s a shame that he’s been typecast because of his Baywatch successes when he has so much else going for him. Am seriously toying with the idea of buying “Deutschlands Top ’80s Hitz”, which is advertised incessantly – it has that “99 Red Balloons” (Neunundneunzig Luftballon) chick with the continental armpits, and lots of Scorpions stuff. But MTV here also plays this great song by some German Peter Andr&eacute type, which I love “Wo willst du hin, denn es macht jetzt keinen Sinn…”(Where do you want to go from here, it makes no sense…) I hope to return with a vast and varied CD collection.

I think you have to take Germany in an ironic way. I am now embracing it fully and going Spargelessen (asparagus eating) and Apfelwein (lethal concoction which tastes like paint stripper) drinking out in the countryside tomorrow night. Larissa and I have discovered that there is one nightclub in the whole of Frankfurt, so we’re going to get on down tonight. Then I’m going to make Tina drive me to Wiesbaden on Sunday, it’s supposed to be very happening in as far as a place in which everything closes at 4pm on Saturday can be. Also getting quite attached to being referred to as “Frau Henlay”. It makes me feel very important, in a Hitler’s secretary kind of way.’