My brief stint in Gothenburg marked the farthest north I have ever been and the nastiest candy I’ve ever eaten. The bag of Gott and Blandat contained some good gummy candies, but also had salt covered liquorice a flavour that I wouldn’t recommend seeking out.

While slowly munching on the gummies, I had the pleasure of chatting with the my Swedish volunteers. They had come from far and wide for the concert, and were very insistent that while the Swedish winter was a miserable thing, that long summer days and the quality of life more than made up for the months of cold darkness. I suppose I’d have to live there to know for sure, but it may be worth going back some summer to see a bit more of that big green land.

I was in Nice for less than 48 hours, but thankfully was afforded a chance to have a take a short break from the tour, meet up with a friend, and have breakfast on the beach – my fourth outing with a local along the U2 tour. I ordered a pot of muscles and chips and took a short swim while waiting for the food to arrive. I soaked up the sunshine while munching down on the delicious muscles.

It was simple and perfect. My friend’s life stood in stark contrast to the crazy pace of the tour. It was the type of morning that makes you wonder why we all don’t just live in beach towns and take every opportunity for a quite morning swim. I know that I couldn’t lead a quiet life forever, but I certainly could stand a few more quiet mornings on the beach like that one.

While the item in the picture may look like a finely shaped poo, I assure that you that it was two delicious flavours of ice cream sculpted into a a flower. This sweet chocolate rose was the nightcap on an evening out in a lively area of Paris with one of my friends in town.

It appeared as thought I was going to miss out on having a meal out with a local in Paris, but thanks to an unfortunate travel arrangement I was stuck in town and managed to duck out for dinner, a bottle of wine, and ice cream. We headed to Rue des Lombards, a lively and lovely strip of gay and lesbian bars near Centre Pompidou. We settled on a crowed tapas place and played a long game of catch up over a large meal, and a bottle of wine that felt too small in the end.

I suppose what you expect to find in a place is what you end up finding, and dinner that evening was no different. I felt surrounded by young couples in love, people smoking hand rolled cigarettes, and beautiful food. Maybe that’s really how Paris is, but every time I’m there I feel like I wander into that same stereotypical dream of cheerful “bonjours” and life lived with time to smile and smell (or eat) the flowers.

The second stop on the tour was Milan, and I was nervous that my freshly hatched plan to have a meal with a local would fall through as I didn’t know anyone in Milan, and I was only going to be there for a few quick working nights. As it happened, we had a meeting with the local office of another non-profit about how we could collaborate, and two of the local volunteers took us to dinner at Obika mozzarella bar.

As it was a crew of English and Italian campaigners, the conversation naturally drifted to politics. I identified with the Italians as the tone in their voice and look in their eye when describing the state of Italian politics and Prime Minister Berlusconi matched the same pain that I used to have when describing American politics in the age of W. Bush. It’s somewhat ironic that the man who destroyed America’s image abroad now provides a source of identification and camaraderie.

Dinner finished with them insisiting on paying for the wine, and winning the argument by speaking to the waiter in Italian. Thanks for the evening guys!

Before I headed out on the U2 tour, I was trying to figure out some fun activity that I could repeat in each stop along the road. It wasn’t until I was actually on the trip that I settled on what I wanted to do: have a meal with at least one local at a restaurant of their choosing. I settled on this activity after an interesting evening with a flamboyant cast of characters at Fidel’s sandwich shop in the El Raval area of Barcelona.

I had met one of the group working on the show, and she invited me to get a taste of Barcelona in an evening out with her group of friends. The varied and humorous cast shone through the language barrier. There was the large jovial story teller who wore his double chin like a crown (right in the picture). The quick witted joker who compensated for his small stature by working out a bit too much. The dark haired bearded IT expert. The shy girl, who was clearly sweet, but was slow to engage in the conversation (center). The good looking couple who laughed loud, but made few jokes of their own (she’s left in the picture – the one who invited me to come along). And finally the power blond who was building a successful career in business.

The evening was a study in group dynamics and how much fun people can have together just sharing sandwiches for an hour. There was a magnetism in the group dynamic that had brought them together, and made me yearn to better understand the conversation. If I ever write a novel, some of the characters present at the table are sure to make an appearance in some manifestation or another.