Ladies and gentlemen, the thing that starts our engine is broken."

Dear Reader,

Oh, what a week it has been! I missed our little conversations with you, truly. I’ve been running around Europe like a madman and people have been readily handing over Euros for my books. As much as I hate late capitalism, this part is really nice.

First, the Dalkey Book Festival in Ireland. This is really the nicest book festival in the universe. They have these “smokey” bacon potato chips (“crisps” in local parlance) which they give out to authors with abandon and a gigantic cabinet stocked with Irish whiskey and gin. This made my 14-drinks-a-week challenge a bit hard to keep. (More on that later, dear reader. Oy.)

I also visited the wonderful Museum of Archeology or somesuch in Dublin, where I reconnected with the First Ancient Irish Hipster who sported a man bun and worked for a prehistoric version of Pitchfork. A must-see.

Then I sat on a panel about the decline of Russia, another panel on the decline of America, and a final panel on the decline of me as I approach 50 next month.  I think I handled all that decline with aplomb.

It was really heartbreaking to say goodbye to Dalkey and Ireland, which is on the top of my list (along with Canada and New Zealand) of places to flee to if a certain political party takes over in 2024 and does away with what remains of our democracy. But it was onward to Zurich and the German-speaking lands for more readings.

Luckily, Swiss airlines, the world’s funniest airline, really cheered me up. After a delay of many hours sitting on the tarmac, the chief purser announced in a sad German-accented monotone: “At the moment we have two topics. We have a missing passenger. Also the thing that starts our engine is broken.” Now that’s how you do (unintentional) humor!

Finally in Zurich, I did what one must do in Switzerland. I bought a watch, a Cartier Tank Solarbeat unavailable in the States. What do you think of it, reader? I’m going to put it on a more exciting strap when I return home, maybe a stingray.

Also, I ate in an incredible restaurant. Yes, in Zurich. Please forgive my terrible photos, but Gul is some of the best Turkish food I ever had. There was a cucumber salad that made me cry and also this giant pepper stuffed with minced lamb and some other crap that may be the tastiest thing in central Europe. The cost, per Switzerland’s prices, was slightly over twenty thousand US dollars for a three-course meal, but it was well worth the reverse mortgage.

And then there were the readings. Oh, I do love Swiss and German readers so much. They’re so attentive and they always buy the hardcover, sometimes two hardcovers because in Germany and Switzerland people can still afford children. My moderators and actors in Zurich and then Munich were spectacular. (In these countries, prominent actors read your work in German on stage, ja?)

Here are some photos with them. Moderator Mikael Krogerus and actor Wanda Wylowa in Zurich and Actor Benito Bause in Munich.  Lovely.

Also, the Swiss journalists were as concerned with my botched circumcision as Bono and others were back in Ireland and we discussed my penis at length, as it were.

(Below is an actual statue in Dalkey conveniently located next to the hotel castle where I was staying. I have a lot of work to do with my shrink when I get back.)

Okay and now for the drinking part. For the week ending Sunday, June 19th, I drank 20.5 drinks, far exceeding my 14-drink-a-week mandate. BUT. That is still less than three drinks per day on average. And I was in Switzerland, Germany and freaking IRELAND! So “culture” played a part. In any case, thank you for keeping track of this with me. I love you.

Off to Berlin, one of my favorite cities, where I will meet a lot of very cool friends. And then to the Hague, where I will be cruelly judged for sure. Have a great week and please write in if you have any questions or concerns.