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I woke with that taste of too many cigarettes and one too many beers and wandered toward a morning coffee before it was back on the road again. We started down the coast searching for another room, kind of back tracking over the previous day’s plans but we ended up in Monte Carlo instead. It had just begun raining as we headed up one of the steep hills looking for shelter and a cup of coffee. We sat down alongside a window and while we sipped our coffee I noticed a motorcyclist get hit from behind. …
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As I reached the Arctic Circle, I got off the train in what seemed to be a ghost town. I would assume it was at least three in the morning and everything in sight was closed. Although early in the morning the sun was still up creating an odd feeling, like being on a set of a twilight zone episode. You could tell something was off. I was carrying an address of a good place to stay that was given to me somewhere along the road. At that point I really didn’t care how nice it was as long as it had a working shower. …
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One night at Mik’s place while passing around the pipe, he weaved stories of sprits possessing the trails between the white horse and the many rock circles heading north. I could almost visualize these images he was painting and hear the pounding of drums in the wind, as I focused in on the flames dancing with the beat. …
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We discovered that the prior day’s information was incorrect. There were no boats leaving today. We got our Sabbath’s mixed up again. We had already packed everything up and trekked the long walk down to the docks. At first I had doubt that anybody was talking straight. I always had to ask a few to get some comfort in confirmation. We managed to gather numerous alike answers and concluded that we were stuck there another day, fuck. …
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The West Coast of Scotland was absolutely gorgeous and we still hadn’t seen any bad weather. Trekking along the coastal cliffs and the Island of Skye can only be described as a religious experience. This is God’s country. Gardens touched by the finger of God. A clouded island littered with crofts and memories of the day before Culloden. …
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We rose early and spent the entire day wandering the pedestrian streets and central squares popping in and out of small cafes and trendy boutiques. That’s right, trendy boutiques. The young ladies that gather in these places are quite attractive. Carlsberg and then followed the tree-lined avenues to the harbor.
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Eventually we exhausted our rail pass in Lisbon. It felt good to slow down our pace and relax from the routines associated with traveling by train. We chose a place where the locks worked, the toilet flushed and the view down onto the street below was descent. By the time I reached for the second bottle everything had a rosy glow, and the food was excellent. I must have had quite a smile and/or my wallet was showing because every young lady looking to trade sex for money introduced herself. …
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Thank God everyday was a sunny beach day. I began the day with some hair of the dog in a small grass shack that hugged the sand leading toward the water, just like yesterday. I struck up a conversation with a young lady who had given me a strange gesture after a fly had landed on her shoulder. We all look from different angles don’t we? She was disgusted with the idea that the fly was attracted to something on her body. I on the other hand would be more concerned with what the fly might have brought to me. It’s a wonderful world that has more than one color. …
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The clouds had parted and the wings of our plane began to dry. The very first thing I noticed was that “I wasn’t in Kansas anymore”. Gatwick Airport had green pastures on both sides of the runway. Unconcerned cows looked up at our passing plane. This was a total contrast to the cement landscape we left behind in LA. …
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We found ourselves a small room above a bar not far off the main square of Brugge, claimed ourselves bed, dropped off our stuff and hit the local canals for a little sightseeing. We roamed among the flower vendors, chocolate shops, lingered behind a cup of coffee and smoked a cigarette while standing on a humped-backed bridge. I enjoyed the mood of the weeping willows and gazed endlessly at the reflections painted by the water. …
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We paid twenty pounds each for deck passage to Ireland. Everybody we had been crossing paths with had one priority, duty free beer. Especially a couple of guys from the states. One was from San Diego and the other from somewhere outside of Boston Massachusetts. I was still tired from the long walks and late nights in Liverpool, so I thought I’d catch up on some sleep. After two beers sleep wasn’t hard to find. Jim volunteered to watch our bags so I wandered off and found myself a comfortable place to grab some sleep. …
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One cold morning, while we were huddling on a train platform like lost ghosts in a graveyard, a young man with a weathered face wandered up to the two of us. It looked as if he had been working the local mines and hadn’t showered in some time but approached us with a smile anyway. …
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My eyes were glued to the window of the bus. The landscape we passed reminded me a lot of my home. The anticipation of knowing Jerusalem was approaching was beginning to take hold. There were many images that had been presented to me throughout my youth that I now have the opportunity to touch. The bus let us off at the Jaffa Gate. Jenni had a name and address of a family given to her from a mutual friend that could perhaps put us up for the night. I noticed a tourist office just off to my left and thought that might be a good place to start and to find ourselves a map of the city. …
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We charted a bus north up the coast into Split where I was able to see the beautiful coast line. One of the advantages of traveling in baby steps is that we could stop at those beautiful places and not neglect the details that make each special. When we reached Split we headed through the walls of the old city seeking a room for the night. We either were appalled at the high prices for a room or they didn’t have any available. Since our budget was deflating I posed an option to Jenni. …
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The clouds were telling no lies, this time they opened up and delivered rain. Bicycles were now out of the question, so we planned on thumbing our way south. We were hardly out of town when Jim started whining again. He’s like one of those thimble banging monkeys. Once his key gets turned there’s no way to turn him off, until his springs loosen. …
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