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We woke to another picturesque day and it wasn’t till we began driving the Ring of Kerry that we realized it was also a lucky day. We were heading clockwise, south to north and every possible tourist and circus was traveling in the other direction. This gave us the ability to stop and enjoy the scenery and not second guess our place in line or force us to let others dictate our pace. …
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Kate joined us on the walk into town that morning. She needed to stop off at the post office while the two of us procured tickets for today’s journey. Kate was a very sweet lady and this was a pleasurable visit. We said our goodbyes over lunch and she saw us off at the dock. We met up with the same American gentleman we originally asked directions from when we first arrived. …
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We came to an unplanned stop at the border between France and Spain where it appeared the French weren’t about to share their trains with Spanish rails. We had come to a complete stop and it was obvious they were ushering us through customs. Well there was no way I would attempt carrying our hash through customs. It just wasn’t worth the risk. …
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I woke from a dream, fixing my eyes on the unseen shadows of the dark room and began tracing the steps of the dream that had just left my grasp. I got up, sat at a table in the corner of the room and stared out at the moon. …
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We entered a compartment that could be best described as humorous. There was a young lady traveling by herself, who had spread her clothes from one end of the compartment to the other. This was orchestrated to persuade us to look elsewhere. We just laugh since this was a technique we often used to maintain our privacy. We found it amusing to watch her reaction to our comfort. She acted as if her mother unexpectedly allowed her new boyfriend into her unmade room. …
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I picked up a pair of apples and a few candy bars for the trek, while Jim checked the train schedules. “Track four, ready to go” said Jim. After a minute or two with no train, it dawned on me that Jim most likely misread the schedules and picked the wrong platform. I retrieved the schedule from Jim’s bag, “I’ll hold the bags, you go check platform six” I bluntly stated. In the tunnel between the platforms I could hear Jim’s echo, “Its going!!” …
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It was a relief to be back on a dry train. When we reached Paris we found it almost impossible to find ourselves a friendly word from the locals. It was like the Parisians were trained at youth to be rude to foreigners. Their rudeness came so easily it must have been a mandatory subject in their schools. …
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I stopped in Karlsuhe for something to eat and decided to head through Offerberg and then into Strasborg for a day or two. I had had four consecutive days of good weather and today was no different. The water just smiled back with the reflection of the autumn leaves. I loved the way the city was broken into pieces by the water. …
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I was disappointed that Jim didn’t have the same level of interest in seeing these local sites. I started referring to Jim as “Stationary”, because literally, he’d stay in the train station and read a book while waiting for me to return from my trek. Wasting opportunities like these between the pages of some romantic novel seemed foolish to me when this is all new. …
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I knew we had reached the Netherlands when the standard blue or green trains turned multi-colored. Two guys had hit us up in the train station soliciting us to take a room on their boat. I preferred being in the heart of the city where access was easier and I could be closer to the coffee shop I decide to write in, but Jenni kind of liked the idea of being on a boat. I was leaving in a few days and felt that getting her acquainted with another group of people was also a priority. …
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It was an early arrival into Rome. I had in my pocket a few phone numbers and a couple of addresses handed to me along the way. After two attempts at one of these addresses there still was no answer so I obtained a map and began walking towards Saint Peter’s square. I jumped on to the subway surprised to see all the graffiti. Unnecessary scars. As I entered the St. Peter’s courtyard I heard whispers, like the voices of the past that never really left. Each pillar that surrounded me gave me the impression they were watching my every step. …
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This world was filled with small narrow roads hidden by hedge groves, secluded lakes, isolated rivers, hills to climb and valleys to explore. Tracking down a castle, graveyard or whatever we had earmarked on our map of antiquities was like our very own secret treasure hunt. Then at the end of every one of these little adventures, we found ourselves staring again at a wonderful pint of local ale, in a small pub in the center of whatever it was the center of. …
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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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Eventually the crowds gathered and like sheep we were herded onto the boat. I managed to weasel my way through the gridlock to the sunny side of the ship, found myself a deck chair and began to relax under the sun. There was a young lady who had the same idea and took the liberty to pull her chair up next to mine and start up a conversation. Honestly I was more interested in her bathing suit than the conversation. From here the view was spectacular. Thousands of white sails littered the horizon and the many islands looked as if God scattered them from his own hand. …
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I was intrigued with the works of Escher and understood there was an exhibit in the Hage, so I persuaded Jim to board a late train out of Luxembourg. We arrived in to Rotterdam even later. There didn’t seem to be anybody but the two of us, the streets were virtually empty. We wandered toward the lights advertising vacancies and pounded on doors until one finally opened. The price the gentlemen in pajamas requested was outrageous. …
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