Leaving Strasbourg I look up at the ceiling at the train station and see it is wooden and painted with a flower design, similar to the one in Aleppo.
The old part of the station is covered over with a glass structure. It’s a bit like a glass dish placed over a piece of aged Roquefort.
Pulling out of the city we pass timber framed farm houses but none of the shacks improvised from boards and plastic sheeting which sprout on the edges of Belgrade, Bucharest and Istanbul.
I’ve used eight different currencies on this trip; Euros, Hungarian forints, Romanian lei, Turkish lira, Syrian pounds, Serbian dinars and Sterling.
It’s been the most difficult thing to keep track of.
It’s funny being back in an environment where I basically understand everything. It makes observing things much harder. I’m taking so much more granted and seeing so much less.
The bar I go to in Strasbourg is like a pub with wooden chairs and half-curtains. The barman is tall and skinny with an ironic manner, pure Brick Lane.
The city is very comfortable with Christmas decorations in the streets and shop windows. People stuff their faces in cosy German-style beer parlours or Patisserie tea rooms.
I can see why the European Parliament chooses to spend one week here each month.
Lovely Strasbourg claims to be the Capital of Christmas 2008.
When I arrive I see people waiting for the shopping mall to open its doors for the day. Thinking of Damascus Souk I go in and look around the same way, as if everything were strange and all the details were deeply interesting.
We head together up an escalator under a pyramid skylight. The multimedia store Fnac’s crammed with gadgets and gifts, including Johnny Hallyday CDs and electric photo frames.
I leave.
