Why is it pink???

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Hello all, Sara and Leah TOGETHER speaking!!
We are alive...though not necessarily well in Prague. But more on that later. Our last day in Berlin was spent at the Sachsenhausen Concentration Camp and Memorial just outside of the city. How shall we describe it? It was...underwhelming. Don't get us wrong, we're not sadists--the amount of information built up over time about the evironment left us imagining something truly horrible. When we got there, the atmosphere just didn't exude...travesty (Leah word). There was quite a bit of information about it and we paid €3 for an unnecesary audio guide. The prospects looked pretty grim and, according to Leah, "I was glad I didn't go through it. The end." We promise we're not cold-hearted bitches (sorry Gma and Gpa) but the atmosphere wasn't enhanced in the way it should have been to get an idea of what people went through nor elicit any shock.

Anyway. Back to Prague. So upon arrival--we took the train and are staying at the same hostel as two Swedish people we met in Berlin, Jonathan and Bella-- my (Leah now) stomach began to feel... not so great. We had some food in Germany at the train station which might have been the culprit, but either way, something was going to come out of one end (sorry for you guys that might have been attracted to me at some point if that just ruined it for you). We had no idea where our hostel was, as none of the maps we saw or people we asked about the street name seemed to know where the hell we were supposed to go. Exhausted from the heat and mystery meat from Deutschland, things looked pretty grim for me, and I proceeded to reveal to the streets of Prague the goings-on of my intestines (thank you Sara for such eloquent wording). For some reason, and we speculate it was the funky raspberries I bought in the train station, it was a nice shade of chartreuse. Yum. TMI much? So anyway, long story short we found our hostel after walking up and down the same street for about a half an hour, and my wonderful companions took care of me and I have upgraded to feeling-like-I've-been-hit-by-a-truck status. Take home lesson: when wandering about Europe, take the advice of my dear Swedish friend and become a temporary ''weegan''. Oh yes, and don't EVER buy produce from a train station, unless of course you are the first born and have a superior immune system. Lucky bastards. Bye for now, still trying to figure out how you do that in Czech...

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Comments

[Aunt Rebecca]

Oh darlings!
Sara~ do you have an of the obvious remedies? (I grew addicited to pepto in Guatemala). Leah~ good thing stomachs can clean house. You'll feel better faster that way, I promise!