On the Swiss border, Michael and I are incapable of avoiding the local cigarette called "Marocaine". On the assumption that they must have something good going for them we buy a pack of 200. Eurobabble begins as we switch from German to French and narrowly avoid ordering horse for dinner. The Usine is a huge place full of dodgy "youth" activities, including us. We do one of those "special" radio interviews, with a large hairy man who wants to know if I have a stairway to heaven. I tell him I take the elevator. The show is competent, but a bit dull, but you could never say that of the Hotel Beau Site. Yeah, the site might be great (actually, it's on a huge grey stone boulevard that reminds us of Moscow) but the furnishings have to be seen to be believed. And the drains have to be heard! Curt and Nick convince me that the peculiar bakelite radios in the rooms are actually bugging devices, and within seconds we are IN MOSCOW, HELP US - WE'RE IN MOSCOW! Later Curt and Nick's room will fill up with teenage Canadian boys, on a sports tour. I hide in my room.
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