Dear Julie, David, and Ted,

It’s 11 am here in Munich, and the ballerinas are all still asleep. Yesterday was officially a day of rest and recovery, though we did quite a bit of walking around Munich, led by our host Thomas. Munich is very historical, and I could tell you all about it but I haven’t had my coffee yet.

Last night we did what we do best — cooking dinner at Thomas’s and shooting the shit. We’re not often alone, but when we are we giggle like girls at a slumber party, and we even got in trouble last night for waking Thomas’s roommate. It can be, I have to say, a little embarrassing.  I blame Marina, who squeals when pinched.

Today we’re off to London, where we’re staying with my friends Rebecca and Victoria. Although we’ve been taken care of every step of the way, I feel a strange pride that we’ve made it this far, that we’re still taking care of each other, that we still smell pretty good — even Craig! I will confess to you that in my state of affection deprivation, I have tried at various moments to cuddle with both Craig and Marina, but my advances have been met with cries of “personal space!” and “my boundaries are beautiful!” (Julie and David, you’d be proud; Ted, could you blame me?) Even Thomas’s two cats have grown tired of my attentive petting.

I’m off to make coffee, but I promise photos in the near future.

Love,

Greg.