Back to America

I just returned to Muenster, Germany, from a major trip across France, through Paris, Versailles, Bergerac, Mont St. Michel, and Chatelaillon-Plage, as well as in Brugge, Belgium.

Having been there before ten years ago, I'm an absolute fan of Mont St. Michel, with it's mystical mountaintop cathedral and movie-set like village and Deauville-Trouville, with their seafood shops, beach bungalows, and, of course, the American Deauville Film Festival!! (and who can forget Paris or Versailles),but I have to say that the absolute hit stops were in Bergerac and Bruges.

Bergerac, the fabled home of Cyrano de Bergerac, is a beautiful city with intricate cobblestoned street paths weaving in and out the beautiful, old buildings.

Bruges, an extremely well-preserved medieval town, with two town squares, canals and bridges throughout, as well as the best chocolate and diamonds that Europe has to offer, has become one of my favorite cities to visit.

The crazy thing is, we discovered it completely by accident.

Hoping to make the entire 600-km trip by car, but leaving Deauville a bit later than planned (I was procrastinating in hopes of staying long enough for the festival next weekend), we ran into an unexpected traffic jam that had us sitting in Rouen for nearly an hour-and-a-half.

"We'll just drive by night and get into Muenster by 1 a.m.," we concluded. Nothing doing. By 10:30 p.m., my eyes were drooping and, so, we decided, we'd have to find a place to stay.

We drove from one city to the next, through the industrial port of Calais in the north, to the Belgium border, where not a single light was to been seen lit in the windows at 11 p.m. -- not a single soul walking around! Every hotel, a local pension or BB-style guest-house, shut down for the night, the foyers dark and desks empty. We found nothing.

"I can't believe this," I said, "it's too creepy; it's as if all the world has disappeared and we're left to wander the streets in search of life."

Finally, at 12 a.m., nearing the city of Bruges, I asked my husband to make one last attempt. I can only say that GPS in cars is one of the best inventions out, as we were able to locate a list of hotels, including contact information, nearby and make a reservation.

And, thus, at 1 a.m., tired and resigned to wasting a night in a dingy hotel somewhere in some unknown backskirt of Belgium, we drove down the empty cobblestone streets, through what appeared to be the back-end of the city, to the Novotel -- a sort of mod and hip Holiday Inn in Europe -- to find a bed and lie down our weary heads.

The next morning, we awoke to sunshine and the most glorious, alive European city, full of quaint shops, great cafe's and restaurants, horses and carriages trotting about, and chocolate -- glorious chocolate. That day, we decided to slow down our frantic pace, stroll around, and enjoy all of the sights. There's nothing like eating French fries in the land that helped to establish their good name!

I learned, as a result of this unexpectedly beautiful city on an unexpectedly gorgeous day, that the best things in life can pass your way when you least expect them -- and when the world seems lonely, dark, desolate and gray, all you have to do is "sleep on it," and, sometimes, the next morning's sunshine is enough to walz all your troubles and doubts away.

Now, onto the next adventure -- this Sunday, our trip back to New York and the good, old (although not as old as Europe) U.S. of A.

Two Weeks Left in Europe and Lots on the Lap

I've been in Europe all summer, living mostly in Muenster, Germany, leaving town for places like Berlin, Duesseldorf, Hamburg and Cologne, but also traveling to countries surrounding and beyond: the Czech Republic, the Netherlands, and Denmark.

Next week? France.

This week, however, I'm staying put in Muenster, taking advantage of all it has to offer, all the while researching for my production company's future Germany projects.

Last night, for example, I went to this incredible spa, complete with four different kinds of saunas, steam baths, hot tubs, cold pools, a solarium, and lounge chairs galore. A real paradise... for 17 euros. I'm not kidding - 17 euros. That's a steal for Americans, and as the former Assistant to the VP of Development at Mandarin Oriental in New York, I can tell assure you that I know what I'm talking about.

The only odd thing - for me, as a puritanical American - was the small fact that you were supposed to go "au naturelle," covered only by a towel.

Gosh, as liberated as I'd like to think I am, this was tough. And how do you NOT look, for heaven's sake?

Still, there was nothing kinky about any of it. In fact, the only weird one there was I -- I just couldn't get over the very obvious lack of interest in my naked body. Hey, the people weren't there for a strip tease, they just wanted to be healthy and chill.

So much for the idea that it's all about sex.

Prague, "The Beggar's Story" and My Role in the film

I'm back from my trip to Prague, where I took on the role of the Neighbor Elisabeth in Lucie Groene's film "The Beggar's Story."

As many of you may know, I’m living and working in Germany for the summer, writing my scripts, developing various productions, acting when the opportunity arises and enjoying the summer amidst cobblestones, castles, cafes, bicycles and biergartens.



For “The Beggar’s Story,” I took the train from Berlin to Prague and was picked up personally by the director, her self. We drove to the beautiful, tiny village of Zelenice, where the only other language the locals spoke was Russian, and I couldn't help but feel as if I had been transported 100 years back in time.

Filming with a Czech crew is like nothing I've ever experienced. The professionals on set were top-rate, but they sure do like their cigarettes and beer. Unlike in the States, where no one breaks until the official announcement is made, the Czech crew seemed to have just stopped for lunch and a beer whenever they felt like it.



The craziest moment was when we were all set for shooting the final scenes for the day. Everything was set up -- lighting, perfect, camera and crew, prepared, the director and supporting actors ready to go -- except for the main character, the shopkeeper. His name called -- no response. He was no where to be found.

And then, finally, after the Czech A.D. went on a search throughout the village, our actor was found. He had decided to go the local pub for another drink.

I couldn't help but laugh and shake my head.



Still, that being said, I was impressed by how well they all work together, how relaxed the atmosphere on set was, and how much we were able to accomplish in a short amount of time.

The biggest lesson learned? Tolerance and openness is part of international film-making. One person's beer is another's water.