25 September 1909 – Things Get Worse
The suitcases perform witches' dances in the cabin, the walls moan and groan, it is impossible to sleep - time to get out! Nobody can stand up, getting dressed is only possible sitting down, and I am feeling very queasy with every movement. I will give shaving a miss, I rather appear at table looking like a porcupine than with my nose half cut-off.
29 September 1909 – New York At Last
… I am ordering tomato soup and a Sirloin steak, whereupon he (the waiter) puts up a small table in front of me, and then supplies bread, butter - well, let's call it butter -, iced water and the soup - a disgusting reddish, floury broth mixed with sugar. And then, lovely blacksmith aromas penetrate the room and a complete rib of beef appears, weighing about two kilograms, charred on the outside and dripping with blood on the inside - "grilled" they call it (…)! I cut a piece off this cannibal roast and use a generous measure of mustard, salt and pepper, in order to outdo the outer flavor of charcoal and the inner blandness …
*Author's note: all texts with the exception of the introduction are original extracts from Albert Ungerer's diary. The grammar has not been changed. Omissions are marked with (...).