Hi, you all!

How are you? This is Zack Sitzling again. As you know, this summer I was in Toronto, Canada, with my parents and Claudia Flunkert. Mummy works for a TV production company. They were doing TV commercials about Toronto, and Claudia, who is fourteen (four years older than myself, but by far not as smart as myself - g) had been chosen to star in most of them.

The day I am telling you about today Claudia had really been looking forward to. We - I mean: The team - would do some shooting in the "Hockey Hall of Fame". Of course I would come with them, even if only to see how Claudia would mess everything up again, as she did at the CN Tower.

As I said, Claudia was looking forward when we were walking from the hotel to the Hockey Hall of Fame. Mom and her colleagues were already there to do all the necessary preparations. I asked Claudia: "By the way, do you know what street we are just in?" Claudia shrugged her shoulders: "Well ... no ... er ... yes ... it's called Yonge Street." I nodded: "Right. And do you know what's so special about Yonge Street?" She shrugged her shoulders again: "Not really. There are lots of good stores here, of course." I had known she wouldn't know, and I triumphed: "Yonge Street is the longest street in the world! It's 1,896 kilometres long." Claudia was stunned: "I knew that Toronto was big, but I didn't know it was thaaat big." Now she was wrong again, and I told her: "No, Toronto isn't thaaat big. See, Yonge Street begins down at the Lake Ontario, about a few hundred metres from here. It goes right up to the north of the city, and then it winds its way through the Province of Ontario and ends somewhere near the border with Minnesota. Minnesota is a state of the U.S.A.."

Yonge Street

We walked on south until we reached the entrance of the Hockey Hall of Fame at 30 Yonge Street. You know, when Canadians say "hockey" they don't really mean real "hockey" (which you play on grass) but "ice hockey". Canadians love ice hockey.

The Hockey Hall of Fame (or rather the building where it's in ... or behind ... or below ... whatever)

When we entered the building, we weren't in the Hall of Fame straightaway but it was some kind of business or shopping centre. We knew that because Mom had told us.

We would go downstairs from here. Then we would be in another shopping centre but when we would turn around, we would already see the entrance of the Hall of Fame. She was right. "There it is. Let's go right in," Claudia suggested. But I had spotted something else: "Wait a minute. There's a food court. I'll go and get me a can of Pixie Cola first." Claudia agreed: "Yeah, okay. Get me one, too."

After I bought two cans, we got to the entrance. Claudia said to the girl at the reception: "Hi. We don't have to pay because we are doing a commercial here." The young woman grinned and she answered: "I see. You are Claudia and Zacharias." (I hate it when people call me by my full name.) And she added: "Yes, you can go in but I'll stamp your hands first anyway." And then she put some blue or black colour on the backs of our right hands with a stamp. Ouch. Was she maaad?

We went in and had a look around. Claudia was enthusiastic: "So this is the Hockey Hall of Fame. Oh, I love ice hockey!" - "Have you ever played ice hockey?" I asked her. She thought for a moment and replied: "Well ... not really ... but I play rugby back home." I laughed, and she defended herself: "Okay ... I would play ice hockey if I had the chance ... er ..." I got it. "You just can't skate," I said and laughed, and I added: "But I can. That's in my genes. I'm the son of a Canadian mom, after all." Claudia bowed down to me and whispered into my ear: "Okay, it's true, I can't ice-skate. But I warn you, if you tell anyone, I will kick your backside with my cowboy boot so hard that you will fly from Canada back to Germany without a plane." Claudia can be frightening at times, and I tried to calm her down: "Agreed, I won't tell anyone. And if you like I will teach you skating in the winter." She smiled and said: "Okay. That's a fair deal."

Then Mummy came to us and collected us: "Claudia, our first shoot is in this part of the Hall. It's an exposition about 'Ice Hockey All Over The World'."

They did the filming but I didn't feel like watching them. Instead I had a look at the showcases. Hockey suits from Latvia, hockey sticks from the Czech Republic, hockey helmets from Sweden ... not very interesting to me actually. Then I got into the room with a video screen. You had a switchboard where you could choose what video clip you wanted to see. As I was alone I was almighty to choose what I wanted to see, and I watched clips about ice hockey in Australia, Brazil, England and so on - places of which I had thought there was no ice hockey at all.

After a while Deborah, the assistant director, came in. "Oh, I thought you'd be in here," she said. "Your mom is looking for you. We're gonna shoot in the MCI Great Hall now."

While Deborah and I were going there, I asked her: "Where was ice hockey invented? In Toronto?" She thought for a moment and answered: "No, not really. Some say it was played first in Montreal. But some argue it had been played in Halifax before, and other people say it was Kingston. Anyway, all these places are in Canada, so it's pretty sure it was Canada where ice hockey was played first. But probably not Toronto."

Then we were in the MCI Great Hall. Many people call it the "cathedral of ice hockey", and that's fair, I guess. When we got in, people were standing in front of the portraits of the biggest stars of ice hockey and in front of all the big trophies of ice hockey in North America, and I had the impression that they were praying. Well, sort of. And the few people who were talking were actually whispering - like in a real church. Then Claudia came to me. She was all smiles, took me by the hand like a real big sister and led me to one of the trophies. "Look, Zack," she said. "That's the Stanley Cup. It's the most coveted ice hockey trophy in North America. It is won by the team who wins the North American Hockey League Championship finals. This year it was won by a team from Tampa Bay in Florida." I thought for a moment, and then I asked: "If it was won by a team from Tampa Bay, why is the Cup still standing right here in Toronto and not in Tampa Bay?" The frightening thing was that not only Claudia didn't answer this, but the people around obviously didn't know it either. Or it was so obvious that everybody knew - everybody but me.

Then Claudia's big moment came. She was allowed to take the Stanley Cup out of the showcase and hold it. Normally people aren't allowed to do that. Claudia only was because she was filmed when she did it. For that commercial, remember?

While the team filmed on, I strolled through the sections of the Hockey Hall of Fame on my own. There were a lot of showcases, which were certainly interesting to hockey fans but not really to me. However, I liked the Hartland Molson Theatre. It was like a cinema, but you could come and go as you liked. I sat down, sipped my Pixie Cola and watched a film about the famous Canadian hockey players Patrick Roy, Wayne Gretzky and Mario Lemieux. I also saw an expo of the "Grand Old Houses" of ice hockey - that is the most famous hockey stadiums like the Madison Square Garden in New York or the Montreal Forum. I also went into the Video Dressing Room, which is a copy of the dressing room of the Montreal Canadiens. I understand the Canadiens are a very important team in Canada even though they don't win trophies nowadays.

What I really enjoyed was the "Be A Player Zone". There you could take a hockey stick and try to shoot the puck into a virtual goal. A dummy goalkeeper was standing there, and you had to sort of outwit him.

But my favourite was the broadcast zone, especially the so-called "broadcast pod". You had a screen in front of you and could choose a sequence of a match. And you had a microphone in front of you, and you were allowed to comment the scene in your own words, AND IT WAS RECORDED. Don't ask me what game it was that I commented - I can't remember - but what I said was quite nasty and it was in German, so I think they deleted the recording when they heard it. Ha ha ha! I really hope they didn't understand German.

Then Claudia came to me while she was having a break. She grinned and asked me: "Do you still have my can of Cola?" - "Sure." She said: "Good. Come on, follow me."

So I followed her right back to the "cathedral". No one else was there at that moment. "Great," she whispered. "You see, they forgot to re-lock the Stanley Cup showcase after I held it. Now I am gonna do what I have always wanted to do." She opened the door of the showcase, took the Stanley Cup out of the showcase and held it with both hands! No alarm, thank goodness! I was horrified anyway because what she was doing was not quite legal - but Claudia was looking happy. She told me: "Open the can of Cola and pour the Cola into the Stanley Cup." I knew how hard Claudia could kick, and she had those cowboy boots on, so I obeyed. After I did it, she brought the Stanley Cup to her lips and drank the Cola out of the Cup. She was reeeeally happy and boasted: "I bet not even Wayne Gretzky has done this. Well, if he has, it wasn't Cola."

She put the Cup back, shut the door of the showcase, and we sneaked out of the room.

She reminded me: "No one may ever know that we did this."

Claudia really isn't what I would call "a typical girl".

See ya

ZACK

Hi, all you carrot noses!

This is Claudia Flunkert, and it’s my turn telling the next part of our story. Believe me, it was a mistake allowing Zack to take turns with me.

Okay. So I had been with the Sitzlings in Toronto, Canada, for a couple of days in the summer time. Mrs Sitzling’s TV crew was shooting German-language commercials about Toronto, and I was starring in most of them.

The day I’m gonna tell you about today was different though. For the first time we would do a commercial outside Toronto.

Zack Sitzling was very excited that morning, and I asked him while I was having my breakfast muffin: “Why are you so excited? We’re just going rural, aren’t we?” Zack shook his head: “You don’t have a clue – as usual. It’s not just the countryside that we’ll see. We’ll see the Niagara Falls.” I had to think for a moment – thinking very hard – and I knew I remembered having heard that name before. “Niagara Falls? They are waterfalls, aren’t they? Aren’t they one of the seventy-seven wonders of the world? But are you sure we’re going to Africa today?” Zack rolled his eyes and frowned. I could slap him when he’s doing it – that nerd! He explained to me: “Yes, yes, yes and no. Yes, I said Niagara Falls, they are famous waterfalls, they are a wonder of the world, but they are right here in the Province of Ontario and not in Africa. You probably mixed them up with the Victoria Falls. Those are in Africa.”

After the breakfast we boarded a bus with the TV crew. It wasn’t a normal bus but it was one of those funny North American school-buses. Looking like the school-bus which brings Bart and Lisa Simpson to school.

While we were on our way, Mrs Sitzling showed us a map of Southern Ontario and explained to us: “Look, children. Here you see the GTA, the Greater Toronto Area, and on its southern side is Lake Ontario. To get to our destination we will go to the western tip of Lake Ontario and then we’ll go southeast. Then we’ll be in the Niagara Valley, south of Lake Ontario.” I was a bit confused: “Niagara Valley? I thought we would go to the Niagara Falls.” She nodded: “We are going to Niagara Falls. The Niagara actually is a river. The valley it flows through is called Niagara Valley, and its famous waterfalls are called Niagara Falls.” It took us almost two hours to get there, and Debbie, the assistant director, told me: “The Niagara Valley is famous for its agricultural products. A lot of fruit comes from the Niagara Valley. That’s why it’s called food chamber of the world, eh?” Hmmm – I couldn’t remember having eaten an apple from the Niagara Valley back at home in Germany all my life, so I asked her: “Are you sure it’s not just the food chamber of Ontario?” She wasn’t too happy with that but at least I managed to beat her down to food chamber of North America, even though I was sure it wasn’t more than the food chamber of Canada.”

Then we got to a lovely little old town. The bus stopped and we got out. “That’s a nice place,” I remarked. “But where are the Falls?” - “They aren’t here,” Debbie told me. “This town is Niagara-on-the-Lake. We’ll be filming you walking through the streets, popping in at some shops and the like.”

Okay, what we did there I can tell you very quickly: They filmed me walking through the streets and popping in at some of the shops and the like. A British shop selling British goods, an Italian ice cream seller, a Greek snack bar ... I even saw a horse-carriage in the street. ... “Lovely,” said Debbie, “it’s a bit like Europe, eh?” Zack frowned again and asked Debbie: “Does it make sense if you show a commercial about a Canadian town which is a bit like Europe to an audience in Europe?” Now the adults in our team were frowning until Mrs Sitzling said: “Never mind. It’s a lovely place anyway, and it IS in Canada.”

In a toy shop Zack bought a cuddly teddy bear which he seemed to love very much. Like a baby. I didn’t know he could be that childish.

Niagara-on-the-Lake



Still Niagara-on-the-Lake

We boarded our yellow bus again and Ralph, our driver, started the engine and off we went again. I read a magazine which I had bought in Niagara-on-the-Lake while Zack kept on fondling his teddy-bear. Baby! I had been reading for some time when Zack shouted out aloud: “The Falls! The Falls! The Falls the Falls the Falls!” – “Where?” I asked. “Not in your magazine,” he complained. “Look out of the window!” Ah right – here they were, the Niagara Falls. Oh yes. Yes. Yes, I must agree: They were impressive. There was not only one of them but several.

They were not so very high but wide. Mrs Sitzling said: “The Canadian Falls are 51 metres high and 800 metres wide.” We got out, and while the team prepared their equipment, four of us (Debbie, Zack, his teddy-bear and I) went to the shore of the river to have a look at the Falls.

“You have your swimsuit with you, don’t you, Claudia?” Debbie asked me. “Yes”, I replied, “but I haven’t been told what for.” And I joked: “You don’t expect me to swim up the Niagara Falls, do you?” Debbie laughed: “No. Oh no. No no. Swimming up the Falls is only allowed on Sundays.” That made me think. I was still thinking when Debbie said: “No, we’ll go to the place where the Falls start to fall. Your job will be to get into the river and swim up to the other shore without falling down the Falls."-–"What?” I exclaimed. But Debbie tried to calm me: “Oh well, it might be a bit dangerous. But you always say you’re a tough stuntgirl, after all. So it should be easy for you, eh?” – “Aw ... aw ... Okay,” I stammered, and we went up to that place she had mentioned.

Niagara Falls

I slowly opened my bag and got my swimming-suit out. I had already taken off my cowboy boots when Debbie and Zack burst out into laughter. “What now?” I asked angrily. “Oh nothing, eh?” Debbie reassured me. “Put on your boots, your socks are getting cold. No one will be forced to swim so close to the Falls. You won’t do any swimming here. I was only kidding.” Zack kept on laughing like a hyena. He laughed and laughed until I grabbed his teddy and threatened Zack: “If you don’t shut up now I will tear Teddy’s head off and kick it into the river.” Debbie was shocked: “Hey, Claudia. I thought you could take a joke.” Zack explained to her: “Yeah, but when she threatens you with kicks she’s serious.”

Later the team filmed me while I was standing and gaping at the Falls. Not a very exiting shoot, and definitely not a stunt.

Only when we were on the bus again did I realize there was a town nearby. “What’s its name?” I enquired, and Debbie said: “Niagara Falls. Like the Falls themselves. Handy, eh? And over there is the border. The buildings you see beyond the river are in another town called Niagara Falls as well. But that town is in the United States of America.” And then we saw some other Falls, and she said: “Those are the American Niagara Falls. Not as broad as the Canadian ones but a few metres higher. But we won’t advertise those – we aren’t getting paid for them.”

Later in the day we got to a winery in the Niagara Valley. This may astound you as well but they grow wine in this part of Canada. But Mrs Sitzling said it wouldn’t be wise to show adolescents in a winery commercial so they used an adult actress for it.

Inniskillen Winery

While they were working on that commercial Zack and I had a look at the shelves with bottles. “Eeeeeek,” he retched. “Wine! I’d never have any of it.” But I did spot something I found interesting, and I bought it when he wasn’t looking. When we were outside I showed him what I had bought: “Look. They don’t have wines only. I bought two jars of jam. Wanna try some?” He was hungry and I had a spoon in my bag, so he took a mouthful. “Oh, that’s marvellous”, he said enthusiastically. “Can I have some more?” And he had a second mouthful. And a third one. And a fourth. And a fifth. And then he started dancing and singing: “What shall we do with a drunken sailor, what shall we do with a drunken sailor ...” Strange. That wasn’t really like him. I looked at he label of the jar, and it said: wine jelly. Oh I see – it was wine after all. His mother wouldn’t be too happy.

And well she wasn’t, and it took Zack some time to sober up, but they did believe me I hadn’t done it on purpose. Or had I?

Anyway, see you later, alligator

Claudia Flunkert

Hi you all!

This is Zack Sitzling again, and I'm gonna tell you about another day we spent in Toronto, Canada.

We were having breakfast at the hotel again (Claudia was complaining about the Canadian food, as she was doing aaaall the time), and I asked my Mom: "What are the plans for today?" You might remember that my Mom's TV crew were shooting German-language TV commercials about Toronto, and Claudia was starring in many of them. "We're on the Islands today." - "What islands?" Claudia wondered. "Mallorca? Gagalapagos?" Those of you who know Claudia Flunkert are aware that she is athletic but that she's not really very bright. I guess Mom thought the same about her, but she would never admit that. "Oh no," Mom started to explain: "The Toronto Islands. The Toronto Islands are small islands in Lake Ontario, and they're not very far from Toronto's waterfront. There are residences on the Islands, there are a few fairly exclusive yacht clubs, but there are also facilities for people to do an outing and have a bit of fun." - "A bit of fun is okay with me," Claudia stated. And Mom said: "Actually you should have seen the Islands from the CN Tower." I laughed: "Yeah, I remember seeing them. Claudia probably only remembers herself vomiting." It won't surprise you that Claudia kicked me under the table for that one.

The Toronto Islands seen from the CN Tower.

Mom said her team would kick off early to shoot some scenes without Claudia, so it was agreed the two of us would walk to the harbour on our own and go by a small ferry to join the crew there.

While we were on our way, we passed the Saint Lawrence Market again, and Claudia had a lucid moment: "Didn't your mother tell us you could buy good food from Europe and Asia here?" Well, I nodded, but I pointed out to her: "Yeah but we're expected to be on the boat at eleven o' clock." She argued: "Alright, we will. It'll only take me a minute to buy something for lunch. I'm fed up with those cardboard bagels, washing-powder muffins and plastic doughnuts. Come on, Zack."

Well, Mom was right, the market was nice. What is unusual to Germans is that many of the stalls are in two large halls, so they're not really stalls, are they? And you can buy a lot of good stuff there, not only food.

Saint Lawrence Market, southern hall.

Claudia bought some Ukrainian sausages, and I decided to buy some big Danish cheese. But the vendor warned me: "Uh oh. You can have it, of course, but I should tell you it's very aromatic." I shrugged my shoulders: "No problem. I like it that way." The vendor wasn't convinced: "Well, I mean, it's ... er ... smelly. Stinky." We laughed out loud but I reasoned: "Never mind. If you wrap it up, we won't smell it." - "As long as you don't unwrap it," Claudia objected.

The cheese lady wrapped the cheese up very very well (you should have seen all the paper she used), and we hurried to the harbour. "There's our boat, the Watermelon," Claudia said. Yeah, it was a small boat for about ... well, forty people, I guess. We went to the captain and introduced ourselves. "Oh, that's okay," he said. "A television lady has already paid for the two of you. Welcome on board."

We sat somewhere in the middle of the boat, and there weren't many other people on board. Then the captain started the engine and set sail. Well, not really sail ... I mean, the boat left.

I really liked the view of Toronto from the boat.

The Toronto Skyline ...

I love those skyscrapers, but you know that already. Claudia was reading a magazine (she's aaaaalways reading in a magazine when she shouldn't be), when I heard a woman somewhere behind us speak in a strange language. It wasn't English, it wasn't German ... I had no idea what language it was. I turned around and saw that it was a young lady, and she was alone. No, she wasn't talking to herself but into a microphone and making a tape recording.

Yeah, I admit I was curious, and when she was finished I walked to her and asked her: "Excuse me. What language was that?" She smiled and said: "Oh, hello. How are you? Have a seat." I did, and she explained to me: "The language is called Afrikaans. It is spoken in South Africa. It's my mother tongue, you know? I'm Yvette, and who are you?" Well, I told her who we were and what we were doing in Toronto. And Yvette told me she was a radio presenter back in South Africa, and she was touring Canada and compiling some radio programs while she was there. She was very nice. I told her what I had already seen in Toronto, and she told me what she had seen, and I didn't notice we had reached the Islands until the boat had "landed" ...

We're there.

... and so we "disembarked". It's been nice to talk to you, Zack," Yvette said. "I made an audio recording of what you told me. Maybe I'll use it for my shows. See you later, I hope." I said "goodbye" and she walked away. Claudia nudged me, and when I looked up at her, she was grinning: "Hey, little boy. You haven't fallen in love with that 'big girl' from South Africa, have you?" - "Er ... what ... no, of course not." Claudia giggled, and I guess I was blushing.

Fortunately the crew were waiting for us, and Claudia would have some work to do. Mom explained to us: "This is Central Island but it's not the most interesting of the Islands. However we can reach many of the other islands easily. There are bridges between them." Then she turned to me and proposed: "Zack, you can come with us, if you want to, but you don't have to." Actually I didn't feel like going with them, so she gave me a map of the Islands and some more money and told me: "Just make sure you are back here at five o'clock."

So I had plenty of time. First I went to the southern tip of Central Island. On my way I had bought a drink ("Canada Moist" ginger ale). I sat down on a bench and had my beer ... or ginger ale. I had a good view of the water of Lake Ontario and the beaches from there ...

As I said ...

... but it wasn't tooooo exciting, so I went back. I went over a a bridge

... so I went over a bridge ...

...and was on another island called Hanlan's Point. I wasn't the only kid there. Actually there were a lot of families with their young children, and there was a large playground.

The swans aren't really swans but pedal boats for children.

I really had to laugh when I spotted Mom's crew filming. Claudia was sitting on a little toy train with a lot of ... toddlers, and she wasn't looking happy at all. Her face didn't brighten up either when the train set in motion and the kiddies started squeaking.

I walked all over Hanlan's Point. Hey, there were policemen on the Islands, and they had police cars. But they weren't normal police cars - they were golf carts or something.

I still had plenty of time, so I walked onto another island ...

On my way I saw this boat.

... and came to a chapel. There was no one around, and as the church door was open, I went in. There was no one in there either. While I was in the church, I felt hungry. "No problem," I thought - I just sat down on a bench and got out my cheese. Oh ... ooooh ..... oooooooh .... it REALLY WAS smelly. So I ate it as fast as I could. Well, smelly it was but it was tasty, too. But after I had eaten it, I could still smell it, so I got out of the church as quickly as I could.

But now there were people in front of the church - quite a few actually. One of them was Yvette, the radio woman from South Africa. "Hi Zack, how are you?" she greeted me. "What are those people doing here?" I wondered. She grinned and answered: "Well, have a look at them, and then ask again." Okay. I saw a parson and a young man in an expensive-looking black suit and a young lady in a white wedding-dress, and more people in festive clothes. "Oh, those two are going to get married," I stated cleverly, and Yvette kept grinning: "Correct. That's my boy." Why did I feel she was making fun of me? But before I could ask her, she explained to me: "This is a popular chapel for weddings, and there is a loooong waiting-list. I talked to the bride and the bridegroom and they said they made the reservation two years ago." Oh, that's a long time. Yvette went on: "So if you, dear Zack, want to get married here, I see two options. Either your girlfriend and you make a reservation, and then you have two years to find out whether you really want to marry each other or not. Or you make a reservation when you're still a single, and then you have got two years to find a bride. The second option is a bit of a risk though. You can't hurry love, as Mister Collins sang."

But another thought struck me: "Oh dear. They wanna go into the church right now, won't they?" - "Yep, in a moment. Why?" - "Uh oh ... I wonder whether this is a good idea." They did go in - and they got out again half a minute later, all of them coughing or complaining or both. "I don't understand it," the parson said. "The stench wasn't in there an hour ago." - "What stench?" Yvette wondered, and I said: "Ummm ... well, there's a strange smell in there. It was already there when I was in. No idea what it is or where it comes from." Yvette looked at me and frowned.

I felt guilty. These two people had been waiting for two years to get married, and now they would have to wait for another two years because I had had cheese for lunch. But fortunately the parson had a great idea: "It's a wonderfully sunny day today. What about doing the ceremony right there on the lawn? We can put the altar and the organ under the big maple-tree. It'll be a wedding to remember - even for myself."

Everyone agreed happily, and I felt relieved. Yvette made a recording of what she saw ("Dis Yvette direk van die Torontoeilande vir Radio Vrystaat FM in Bloemfontein, Suid-Afrika, en ek sien hier dalk die eerste ..."). Before the wedding was finished, Mom's TV crew was there, too, and did a bit of filming of the ceremony.

When we were on the boat again, both Claudia and Yvette were sitting next to me, and Claudia asked me: "Did you eat the Esrom you bought at St. Lawrence?" Uh oh ... Yvette had heard that, of course, and now she really wanted to know: "Esrom? What's an Esrom? Oh. Oh - I think I know what it is." She grinned evilly, and she said to Claudia: "Yes, Claudia. I guess he did eat his cheese, and I even know where he ate it." Claudia looked puzzled, but fortunately she didn't find it interesting enough to press on. And Yvette just nudged me and laughed.

Yours cheesily

Zack

Dear potato heads!

I'm Claudia Flunkert, and this is another part of our Canada "adventure". I was still in Toronto with little Zack Sitzling and his parents. It was sort of a working holiday for me because Mrs Sitzling was making TV commercials about the city of Toronto, and I starred in them.

Today I'm gonna tell you about a "working day" which I had really been looking forward to - even though it involved museums. But the first of the two museums we went to was a very special museum - special to me because I'm a woman. Well, a girl, to be exact. It was the Bata Shoe Museum.

When we were standing in front of that museum in Bloor Street West, I was amazed to see its special shape. "Look at that!" I exclaimed. "The museum is built in the shape of a shoe box." Zack didn't share my enthusiasm, and he sounded quite bored when he said: "So this is the only museum in North America which is solely dedicated to shoes. O sole mio." And his mother explained: "The museum's collections are actually the property of a certain Mrs Sonja Bata. Bata is actually a shoe-manufacturing family enterprise originally from the Czech Republic, and as Mrs Bata had a special interest in shoes, she collected shoes from all over the world and from all ages. When she had more than ten thousand, it was decided to build a museum for them, and the architect Raymond Moriyama had the idea to let it look like a giant shoe box."

Doing the commercial was very easy for me. I walked through all the halls of the museum and gazed at all those shoes, and the crew just followed me and did the filming. The shoes were actually from everywhere and any time. There were ancient Egyptian sandals, chestnut crushing clogs, Chinese bound foot shoes ... a lot of shoes I actually wouldn't be keen on wearing but that were interesting to look at. One special exposition, for example, was about Inuit footwear. The Inuit are the people living in the Arctic areas, and they are often called Eskimos. You can imagine there weren't many sandals in that collection.

After the filming was done, Mrs Sitzling said: "The crew and I are going to the Royal Ontario Museum now. But it'll be some time before we've prepared everything. Children, if you like, you can stay here between the shoes for a while. Just meet us at the Royal Ontario Museum at half past two."

Of course I wanted to stay, and Zack stayed with me - but only reluctantly, I guess. I had another look at the shoes and then we came to that Walk of Fame. We weren't alone there but we joined a group of photograph-taking visitors from Japan. "Look at the showcase," I said to Zack. "There are shoes of very important people. Don't you see? The pumps belonged to Marilyn Monroe. And there's John Lennon’s beatle shoe. And those are the shoes of the painter Pablo Picasso, the cigar-smoker Winston Churchill, and the former Canadian primetime minister Pierre Trudeldeedoodledeedeau." - "Oh yeah, Trudeldeedoodledeedeau," repeated Zack. No idea why he did that. Then he said something like: "Oh, this is ridiculous ...," and before I noticed he was up to something I felt a hand grabbing my foot. "Hey Zack, what are you doing?" I complained. "Don't mess with my shoes. Hey, I want my boot back."

Zack had pinched my cowboy boot, and when I turned around I saw that he had put it on an empty table nearby - like it was a part of the collection. Now the Japanese tourists turned around, too - and they started taking photos of my exposed boot on the table. But the worst of it was that Zack started to talk to them: "Lillies and Gentlepants, my name is Zack, I'm your Walk of Fame guide. Here on this table you see a left western boot, formerly owned by Queen Elizabeth II. of England. She was wearing this boot while she was crowned in 1952 - when she was 26 and had just returned from a rodeo in Muskogee, Oklahoma, where she had bought the boots at Miss Jacinta's Booty Store." - "Aaaah," said the Japanese, and "Oooooh," but I said: "Ouch". I grabbed my boot and made a speech to the people. "Ladies and Gentlemen, I do apologise. This young man here thinks he's a great hoaxer and very funny to boot. By the way, boot is a very good catchword." It was, because at that moment I kicked Zack's backside with my right booted foot. The tourists obviously thought this was all part of a performance because they applauded us. They were still clapping when we had already run out of the building. (Somehow I managed to put on my left boot while running.)

At the Royal Museum we were collected by Mrs Sitzling, and she explained to us: "This, of course, is a very different kind of museum. More traditional." - "What a pity," said I. "That's good," said Zack. Mrs Sitzling went on: "My colleagues are still setting up the equipment in the Arms and Armour section. Why don't the two of you have a look at the Dinosaur Gallery first?"

Zack obviously was keen on that one. I wasn't, but I didn't have anywhere else to go.

Well, we got to that gallery and were greeted by a large dinosaur. Well, not a living dinosaur ... ha ha ha ha ... but the skeleton of a dinosaur. As you can guess, Zack was enthusiastic. "Oh look at that tyrantosaur ... look at that phantastisaur ... look at that nuclearsaur ..." (I'm not sure whether these were the exact terms he used.)

For every skeleton there was a description of what it was and where the bones had been found. "I wonder how old this dinosaur exactly is," said Zack. There weren't many people in the gallery, but there was a museum official, and he had heard Zack say that: "Well, my boy, this dinosaur is exactly forty million and eight years old." We both were amazed: "How come you know that so precisely?" I asked him. "Well," he answered, "that's easy. When I started working here, I was told it was forty million years old. And that was eight years ago." Zack and I must have looked bewildered. Then the man laughed and said: "I was only kidding. No one can tell the exact age of a dinosaur bone. They are so old that even a million years don't make a difference really." And then he pointed out: "Maybe you have seen that most of these skeletons were found in the USA." - "Yeah," said Zack, and Zack wanted to know "Why is that?" - "Oh, it's because two Americans hated each other." We were puzzled again. "I don't get that," I said.

And he told us: "Well, in the nineteenth century there were two American palaeontologists - scientists interested in old bones, that is - Mister Cope and Mister Marsh. At the beginning they were quite friendly with each other. But for reasons nobody really knows they started to hate each other. And I really mean hate. One time, for example, they were making excavations in the same place and quarrelled so hard that they threw rocks at each other. No kidding this time. And as each of them wanted all the fame for himself, they competed with each other, and each dug out as many bones as he could. When they started their excavations, only eight species of dinosaurs had been known to mankind. But digging like crazy, the two of them found 150 unknown species together. Well, not really together ... you know what I mean."

Zack kept being fascinated and staring at the old bones. Obviously his mind had wandered off into an age when dinosaurs were still alive. I couldn't resist: I crept up on him - and ROARED into his ear. He should have heard him shriek. Unbelievable!

But before we walked out of the gallery, Zack told the official: "I think I might become a palaeontologist." - "Oh great," said I. "You could collect stamps instead." - "Thank you very much," replied the official. "I'm a palaeontologist myself."

Stony bony regards

Claudia Flunkert

Hi, kids!

My name is still Zack Sitzling, and I’m still telling you about our trip to Toronto, Canada. You know, that TV commercial thing Mom did with Claudia.

Claudia had really really been looking forward to that Sunday which I’m gonna tell you about, so she was all excited when the two of us were having breakfast at the hotel. She was like: “Oh, it’ll be great ... it’ll be wonderful ... I love that game ... I love that stadium ... I’ll never ever forget this day ...” But what was amazing was that my Mom was even more excited when she joined us, and she cheered: “Oh, Claudia. I’ve just been told you would have the privilege to throw the first ball for the Blue Jays today.” And consequently Claudia became even more excited and stuttered things like : "Ooooh ... aaaaah ... don't you don't you believe it ... googoo ... unforgettable ... gargle.“

I guess you’re somewhat puzzled now, and that’s good. Don’t worry, I’ll enlighten you in the course of the story.

After breakfast we walked to the SKYDOME.

The Skydome is not really a cathedral even though I guess some people who go there do start praying there. Toronto’s Skydome is right next to the tall CN Tower, and it's a huuuuge stadium, especially for sports. The Blue Jays play there (they are Toronto’s most important baseball team) and the Toronto Argonauts, too. The Argonauts play Canadian Football, which is very much like American Football, even though Canadians will tell you that Canadian Football is totally different from American Football and that it has nothing to do with American Football at aaaall. Okay, when they tell you that, just nod as if you believe them.

But they also stage other events at the Skydome: Pop concerts and the like.

Hi, you bratwursts!

I know, I know, this is NOT a very friendly way to welcome you. But I don't really mean it, and actually it fits very well with the rest of the story.

By the way, my name is Claudia Flunkert, and as you might remember, I had been in Toronto, Canada, with Zack Sitzling and his parents. Mrs Sitzling did those Toronto commercials, of which I was the "star". So we had been doing those little films for the past couple of weeks. Zack and I told you about some of them. (Not aaaall of them though because some of the days were too normal, so we would have bored you with that.)

Anyway, I hadn't noticed how fast the time had been passing in Toronto, and I was shocked when it was Saturday morning and I realised we'd be leaving on Monday. "Oh, I really have to do my shopping at the Eaton Centre today," I told the Sitzlings. "Some new shoes, I guess," Zack suggested. "Yeah," I answered and wondered: "How did you know?"

But Mrs Sitzling said: "Oh well, Claudia, you can do all your shopping in the afternoon. But we'll have to do our last commercial before that. We'll be at the Saint Lawrence Market." Working on a Saturday? I grumbled but I saw that resistance would have been futile.

I already knew that Saint Lawrence Market fairly well. I had been there with Zack and he bought an extremely stinky cheese there. Maybe you remember. And yes, I liked the market, so I wasn't too unwilling to go there.

If I were Zack (it's so good I'm not), I would torture you with extremely boring facts now. I would tell you, for example, that the Market consists of the Northern Market and the Southern Market. The Northern Market is more than two hundred years old and is also called the Farmers' Market, and you can also buy antique collectibles there on Sundays. The Southern Market (right on the other side of Front Street East) has been there since 1901, and it is in a large building which was Toronto's City Hall in the nineteenth century. And I would tell you that there's also a gallery in that building which hosts exhibitions about Toronto's past. But, after all, I'm not Zack, so I won't mention any of that.

The first bit of the filming was - once again - very easy to me. Mrs Sitzling's team followed and filmed me while I was buying things at the Northern Market before I went on to do some "televised shopping" at the stalls in the Southern Market hall. I especially liked the Southern Market. I bought some maple syrup at the Souvenir Market, some honey from the Honey World, some ultra-spicy mustard from the Mustard Emporium, salmon from Mike's Fish Market, pears from the Golden Orchard Fine Foods and so on. I love fresh food - unlike Zack, who is keen on typically Northern American food. He got bagels from Saint Urbain Bagels, muffins from the Future Bakery and donuts from Peter's Health Foods.

What do you wanna have for lunch?

When I thought I had done my work and could do some really interesting shopping at the Eaton Centre now, Mrs Sitzling confronted me with the terrible truth: "We'll have to shoot a very last scene, and it'll be somewhat harder, Claudia." Hard work! Gulp!

She told me that I would have to impersonate a "salesperson". They would film me while I would be selling meat to customers at the stall called "Aunt Mathilda's German Sausage Wonder". The really bad thing (thus: the work) was that I'd have to do some real work before the "movie work". While the TV team were setting up some equipment, I would serve real customers like a real salesgirl would, so that I would "get the feeling" for the role. Fortunately "Aunt" Mathilda was a very nice woman. She explained to me what I would have to do, and it wasn't too hard, after all, but it wasn't too easy either. I would have to ask the customers what they wanted. I would have to weigh the stuff, find out what it costs, collect the money and even hand out the cash - just like a real shop assistant does.

But trust me: I'm not only good at being a commercial star but also at selling meat. Aunt Mathilda was quite satisfied with me and even offered me a full-time job - which I had to decline, of course.

After a while (the TV fools were still meddling with their equipment), "Aunt" Mathilda told me: "I must disappear for a minute or two. Nature calls." I still wondered how nature could call right in the centre of the city of Toronto, but before I could say anything she was gone - and I was alone with all the mettwursts, the knackwursts, the wienerschnitzels and the customers.

The first customer who addressed me when Aunt Mathilda was gone was an old man who said: "I bought this liverwurst here yesterday." Okay. Not really interesting to me, but I smiled and said: "That's a very good choice. German liverwurst is very good for your ... um ... liver." He got angry: "This one definitely isn't. There's too much salt in it." Being a good salesgirl, I shook my head and said: "I'm sure it isn't. May I taste it?" He grinned and handed me the sausage. I ate a bit of it and almost threw up: "Whooooa! It's salty as hell! There must be an entire potassium mine in the sausage," I admitted. Before I could apologise, he exclaimed: "That's the last sausage I ever bought from you," and off he was. I felt guilty - even though I was completely innocent actually.

But that wasn't the last "problematic customer". An elderly lady addressed me and said: "Excuse me, young lady. I bought this Bavarian veal sausage here yesterday and ..." I thought I understood. "Oh, I see. It's too salty," I supposed. The lady shook her head: "No, it isn't. Or ... well, maybe it is. I couldn't tell because I can't eat it. It's made of rubber." I really didn't believe it was and I told her: "Oh, I really don't believe it is." She got furious, shouted: "I'll show you that it is" - and slapped my face with the sausage, which definitely was made of rubber. Slap slap slap slap slap! I couldn't believe it but I had to. Before I could apologise (for another thing I wasn't responsible for), Grandmother Rambo said very angrily: "That's the last sausage I ever bought from you," and she left before I found words to insult her.

I hadn't recovered from that shock when I was approached by a young woman. Thank goodness .... I knew her. "Hi," I greeted her. "You are Yvette, the reporter from South Africa, aren't you?" She looked puzzled and replied: "No. No, I'm afraid I'm not. I'm Tanya from Toronto, and I bought this salami here yesterday." Oh great. What was it this time? I guessed: "Too much salt? Too much rubber?" She shook her head and explained: "No, neither of them. Too much pepper. It's so spicy it can explode any moment." This I thought was impossible, and I told her in quite an unfriendly way: "This I think is impossible." I grabbed the sausage to taste it ... and it exploded in my hand. Baaang!

The explosion wasn't big enough to hurt me but it was good enough to give me the fright of my life. However, I came round very quickly, and when I saw Tanya's face I said: "Let me guess. This is ... or was ... the last sausage you ever bought from us." But now I saw she was grinning, and then she said: "Goeiedag, Claudia. You were right, I'm Yvette from South Africa. And that over there was a hidden camera, and ... surprise surprise ... you are on Cape Town's Candid Camera."

Now I saw that everyone was laughing: Yvette, Aunt Mathilda, Mrs Sitzling and her colleagues and all the people standing around, and Zack, of course. I smiled and waved into the hidden camera ... and then I violently kicked Zack in the guts. "Why me? I didn't do it," he complained. "You're smaller than the others, so you are easier to kick," I explained to him. "That's logical," he conceded.

But I still had enough time to do my own shopping at the Eaton Centre.

Yours sincerely,

Claudia Flunkert

Dear Ladygirls and Gentleboys!

I'm Zack Sitzling, and I'm gonna continue our Toronto stories right where Claudia stopped last time. She had done the last Toronto commercial at Saint Lawrence Market, and then she was taken for a ride with this candid camera trick by Yvette, our friend from South Africa.

It was Saturday. We would have to go back to Germany on Monday, and Claudia said: "If you excuse me ... I'd like to go to the Eaton Centre now. I have some very important shopping to do." - "Shoes," I said and laughed. Yvette didn't excuse her but said: "The Eaton Centre? Great idea! I have to do some shopping there myself. And we could have lunch there. If you don't mind, I'll join you." I had a feeling that Claudia actually did mind (she wasn't too happy with that candid camera stuff) but couldn't find the words to bring it home to Yvette without offending her, so she said: "Okay. If you don't mind, I don't mind ... Um..." - "Fine," said Yvette, and then she asked me: "Are you coming with us, Zack?" Honestly speaking, I wouldn't have gone on a shopping spree with Claudia, but as Yvette would be with us, I nodded. And Yvette had mentioned lunch, and I was hungry, after all.

If you have ever been to Toronto or another big city in Canada, you will have noticed all those indoor shopping centres. Canadians love them. Many of them are not only indoors but even underground - like the lower levels of the Eaton Centre. And if you wonder why they are so fond of them, think about the winter in Canada! There's so much snow and it's so cold then that it's a great relief for Canadians to do as many things as possible indoors - including shopping. My mom knows a Torontonian who lives in a big apartment block. From the floor where his apartment is he can take the elevator down right to the nearest subway station. From there he takes the subway to Queen station, and from there he can walk into the Eaton Centre without having to walk one metre outdoors. So he doesn't need a coat when he goes shopping. Not even in winter.

The Eaton Centre is not the only shopping centre in Toronto but it's the most famous one. That's probably why Claudia and Yvette wanted to go there. We took the entrance which is near the Hudson's Bay Company department store. The Hudson's Bay Company is a very important company: It used to own large parts of the land before these became parts of Canada. And I really mean: LARGE! Funny, eh?

Before the girls went on their shopping spree, we had lunch at a food court: A food court is a place where you have tables and chairs in the middle, and they are surrounded by different snack booths where you get your food from. I went to a stand called "New York Fries" because I wanted to try a poutine. Poutine is a Canadian speciality: French fries with cheese, all of it drowned in gravy. Slurp! Just my kind of food! "Bjork," chundered Claudia. Yvette wondered: "Bjork? Isn't that a singer from Iceland?" Claudia nodded: "Yes, but that's not what I meant." Yvette convinced me not to try the poutine. Instead she took us with her to a Japanese stand, and we all took some rice with shrimps and chicken. Strange combination, but it was good. And it was interesting because two cooks prepared our meals before our eyes.

Inside the Eaton Centre.

While we were having our lunch together, Yvette invited us to come to her apartment after the shopping. "It's only a few hundred metres from here." I was surprised: "I thought you were here on a working vacation, Yvette. Aren't you staying at a hotel?"

Yvette seemed to be embarrassed but she explained to us: "It's somewhat complicated. Well, I'm not only a radio DJ back home in South Africa but I'm also a singer. My agent thinks it will be good for my international career if I take part in the Eurovision Song Contest. South Africa is not allowed to take part in that competition so he signed me up for the Contest's national selection in the United Kingdom." Oh dear! That was terrible! "Royaume-Uni, 0 points," said Claudia in French, and I added: "Singing for the UK would mean your international career would be over before it has even started." Yvette agreed: "I'm glad you understand that. My agent has no idea that I'm here right now, I'll be hiding from him here in Canada until the Contest is over." Poor Yvette!

Yes, we accepted her invitation to go to her place. But the shopping came first. I guess if Claudia told you this story, she would write dozens of pages about what she saw in the stores and what she bought. I will cut this long story short (as people say in English):

First she went to three different shoe stores: She bought a pair of boots at Bata's, then she bought a pair of boots at Aldo's, and she bought a pair of boots at Calderone's. "It's summer," I reminded her. "What are you gonna do with all those boots?" - "Blah blah blah," she answered. "It's summer now, but it will be winter in ... um ... winter. I wanna be prepared for ice and snow. Anyway, sandals are for losers." (She said that because I was wearing sandals.)

She really had loads of money to spend because my mother had already paid her for starring in the commercials - in cash! So she went on and on and on .... buying cosmetics at the Great American Back Rub, oodles of souvenirs for her friends at Carlton Cards, a Chinese watch with the word "Canada" on its face, boy group CDs at the Music World and hats, shirts and trousers at Sears'. I hadn't done any work in Toronto, so I only had some pocket money to spend. I bought a book about the world's most famous quick-change artists at a store called "The Great Canadian News". Yvette bought something, too. "Kyk," she said. (I guess that was Afrikaans again.) "I got some South African food. Biltong and melktert. Yummie. Lekker!"

With all the shopping Claudia did I was amazed it wasn't midnight yet when we went to Yvette's apartment. "You will meet two friends of mine there," Yvette announced. "They are Koos and Piet, my Pekinese dogs. I smuggled them in from South Africa. But don't tell anyone."

When we came to the door of her apartment, there was a cat sitting on the mat. "Oh, it's Miss Mieliepap," Yvette said. "It's not my cat but she visits me from time to time. Goeieaand, Miss Mieliepap." Yvette unlocked the door and invited us to come in - including the cat. Then the cat opened her mouth - and a living mouse jumped out of it. "Oh, look at that," exclaimed Yvette. "Miss Mieliepap wanted to give me that mouse as a present. How sweet!"

But now we had a problem. The mouse ran away, and the cat ran after the mouse. When Yvette's dogs noticed that, they started to run after the cat, which was running after the mouse. Yvette started to run after the dogs, which were running after the cat, which was running after the mouse. And as Claudia and I wanted to help her, we both ran after Yvette, who was running after her dogs, who were running after the cat, who was running after the mouse.

After five minutes of running and a material damage of about 500 Canadian dollars, the mouse hid away behind a wardrobe. Being a nice person, Yvette wanted to save the mouse. She managed to grab the mouse by its tail but when she was holding the mouse in her hand, it bit her in the finger. Yvette jumped and dropped the mouse. The cat ate the mouse, and the dogs bit the cat.

After we managed to save the cat from the dogs, Yvette said: "I had better go and see a doctor and get a tetanus injection. Why don't you come back tomorrow - for lunch?" She looked at her Pekinese dogs and suggested: "We'll have hot dogs."

Kind regards,

Zack Sitzling

Hi pumpkins!

This is Claudia Flunkert again. I told you how the Sitzlings and I got to Toronto, and it's me who is going to tell you how we got back to Germany. Or didn't ... Oh anyway.

The last day before we had to go to the Lester Pearson Airport (that is Toronto's international airport) was the very first day for a long time that I didn't have to do any of those commercials. We had shot the last one the day before.

Yvette had invited Zack and me to her apartment for lunch. She offered us some "hand-made" hamburgers. Actually I hate fast food but her hamburgers were delicious.

"Where are your pekinese dogs, by the way?" I wondered while I was finishing my third hamburger. "Gone," she said - and she obviously didn't want to discuss that in detail. She didn't have any appetite either because she didn't eat any of her hamburgers herself.

After lunch I walked through the streets of Toronto with Yvette and Zack for the last time. In a small park near St. James Zack spotted a black squirrel.

If you concentrate hard, you might spot it on the photo above.

We had to convince him that it wouldn't be wise to catch it and take it back home as a pet.

You might have noticed that I'm a bit sad while I'm writing these lines. That afternoon I realised how much I had enjoyed my time in Toronto. Even though I hated Canadian food and Zack had got on my nerves so often and accidents had happened, I now felt that I loved Toronto and would have preferred to stay in Toronto. But that wasn't realistic.

Walking in Toronto

Toronto is definitely not Urinetown. Urinetown is just the name of a musical advertised on that wall.

Yvette mused: "Do you know what I like most about Toronto?". We didn't, and we didn't answer, because we knew she would tell us anyway. "The subway," she said. Was she serious? "Yes, I mean it. The trains go every three minutes. They're very long. Thousands of people take it every day, but you get a seat every time you use it. In South Africa, where I come from, using public transport is an adventure in itself. But not an enjoyable one. Our biggest city Johannesburg doesn't even have public transport."

So we took the subway - just for the fun of it.

This is the subway station at the Royal Ontario Museum. In the background you see typical Canadian schoolbuses.

We got out at random and went to a quarter I hadn't been to before. "It's Toronto's Greek quarter," Yvette explained. "We should have been here in June when Greece won the European Soccer Championship. I understand the people here kept partying for a week. Free gyros for everyone." Then she mused again: "I must correct myself. The very best thing about Toronto is its multiculturalism. People from all over the world have settled in Toronto - and it works. No one even seems to think that it couldn't work."

Later we took the subway back to Union Station and we walked around the CN Tower for a last time,...

Looking up is easier than looking down.

... and I remembered the moment when I had courageously stepped onto the glass floor. (Shut up, Zack!)

Then we all had a quick snack - Zack wanted to taste poutine, after all, and as I had thought, poutine is his sort of food.

Between the Hudson's Bay department store and the Eaton Centre we encountered this living Elvis Presley statue.

Afterwards Yvette took us to a "non-commercial cinema" where we watched a South African movie. Unfortunately it was in Afrikaans, and Zack and I didn't understand very much, but Yvette had a great time and laughed a lot.

The day passed by - and we were all very sad.

On Monday neither Zack nor I felt like talking or doing a lot. After lunch a taxi took the Sitzlings and me to the airport. (Tt's a fairly long ride on the motorway - I think they call it the Expressway or something.) Zack and I could have cried but we didn't, of course.

The procedure at the Airport was as it always is (enervating, that is) but a few hours later we were on board the plane. Mrs Sitzling was aware that Zack and I weren't in high spirits really, and then - before the plane took off - she asked both of us: "Do the two of you have any plans for the autumn break?" I didn't, and I told her so, and Zack even complained: "Mom, you should know that I don't." I didn't complain but I was curious why she asked, and she explained to us: "I'll have to go back to Toronto for postproduction in the autumn, and I wonder whether the two of you would like to accompany me then. You could help me with some sound recordings, so there'll be a few Canadian dollars for both of you." We loved the idea, and so we did have plans for the autumn break now, and we were on top of the world. A few moments later we really were because the plane had taken off.

After our first meal the co-pilot announced: "I have the passengers' list before me, and I see that our youngest passenger today is Zacharias Sitzling from Sehnde, Germany. Zacharias, if you like, you may come and join us in the cockpit for a moment. I guess it'll be interesting for a ten-year-old boy, wouldn't it?" So if we had both been on top of the world, Zack was even ... um ... topper now. He didn't even complain about having been called 'Zacharias' (which is his real first name, and he hates it). He took his seatbelt off, and a flight attendant called Jacinta led him to the cockpit. (He could have guessed it was in front, couldn't he?)

I took off my cowboy boots and took a nap. I must admit I was a bit jealous of him. Why wasn't I the youngest passenger on board? Anyway, when Zack got back, he was all smiles and told us everything he had seen.

The flight took quite a while, and we were scheduled to land in Frankfurt early in the morning.

Then we prepared for the landing in Frankfurt - at last! The descent had begun. We had all fastened our seatbelts, reset our seats, and everyone waited patiently for the touchdown. But all of a sudden the captain made a strange announcement: "Ladies and Gentlemen, I'm afraid we have had some trouble with our navigation system. If you look out of the window you will see that this can't be Frankfurt. We are interrupting our descent. If anyone of you has a road map in your hand baggage, we would be grateful if we could borrow it."

I did look out of the window - and saw the Eiffel Tower.