clothes, or impossible combinations. I was particularly impressed by the elegance and the really cosmopolitan crowds downtown in Copenhagen and Amsterdam. I had supposed that the populations of these two cities were pretty homogenous, but though smaller than London and Paris, they were imperial cities, drawing people from all over the world. The preponderance of Beatle styles among youth in Copenhagen and London even surpassed Hollywood.

Each city had more of waterfronts, lakefronts, harbors and canals than I'd expected. One rarely seemed to be far from the water. A canal boat ride the first day in Amsterdam also took us out across the expansive, busy and impressively ugly harbor, a sharp contrast to the also busy, but parklike waterfront of Copenhagen.

The weather was consistently warm and sunny after Munich. But I carried a lingering cold, which kept my roommates awake. Except for those who paid extra for single rooms, we shifted roommates at each new city. The hotels ranged from elegant in London to something else in Amsterdam, but in all, the accommodations were excellent at the price. Enjoyed many new food thrills, but the strongest memories are of the 57 course Indonesian dinner in Amsterdam, and the indescribably rich and varied Danish pastries, and their sandwiches that could best be described as canape skyscrapers.

The second day in Bavaria, we rented two VW minibusses and swung through the lush countryside, stopping at the Oberammergau passion theatre, and visiting King Ludwig's extravagantly fine palace and fantastic grotto at Lindenhoff, and his unfinished, skythrusting dream castle, Neuschwanstein (model for Disneyland's fairy castle.) This homosexual king, lover of Wagner and his operas, and last monarch of free Bavaria, bankrupted his country with lavish castle-building and private operatic productions. Lone-

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ly, nervous, and living in the dream world which Wagner materialized, he was placed under doctor's supervision (i.e., house arrest) on Lake Starnberg, which we flew over, near Munich. He committed suicide, it appears. His gardens were reportedly full of erotic male statues, destroyed after his death. No vacancies show. Every corner is crowded with objects d'art and rococco female nudes predominate in the tapestries and wood carvings. The buildings are architecturally elegant, the interiors merely opulent, just too much.

Getting back into Munich, I experienced the most terrifying traffic in which I've ever driven (in London, I wouldn't drive!) and Dick hurried back to Rik's bar, where he'd found true love the night before-a sallow, extremely handsome youth, who saw us off at the airport later. My own amours were limited to the last three stops, but for the group as a whole, there were quite a few adventures to tell.

Small but rewarding museums in Zurich and Munich and Copenhagen's amazing Glyptoteket with its fine collection of Roman sculpture (white marble, with penises all rubbed black from handling) were buildups to Amsterdam's proud Riksmuseum (which we visited at the same time as Princess

Margaret) and the unsurpassable Louvre. A pen-pal of Howard's, from Utrecht, took us through the former (and to a fine dinner afterward). I could have spent weeks with the early Dutch and Flemish masters, time cheated us of most of the Steens, DeHootch's and Vermeers. And I missed the city's fine Van Gogh collections, but we spent a pleasant hour at the Rembrandt house, where the etchings were astonishing. By this time, we were going off mostly in twos and threes, with much time at our own disposal. Thus Howard and I in London went to the fine National Gallery, to Westminster (passing Parliament