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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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We caught a morning bus into Bath. There was such a beautiful view out the window I hardly noticed any of the other passengers. I could almost imagine hearing the hunter’s horn heralding from the hills, the sound of dogs running alongside the hooves of horses. I gazed at the many sheep spattered like white paint against the green, divided by a patchwork of trees and fences. …
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On the trip into Athens we were joined by another young lady and young man who had been pursuing her. She wasn’t interested in him but tolerated him because she liked the attention. At least that’s what she told us. We discussed renting a van and exploring Greece’s mainland. I wanted to visit Delos and then each extension of the Maurice Cross but Athens was first on our agenda and we decided to postpone making a decision until later. …
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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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I woke up in the middle of a desert of reddish clay painted orange by the rising sun. As the ride wore on the sun converted our compartment from a cozy bed into practically an oven. Each hill looked the same as the one before it rolling one after another past my window. If one didn’t know any better it could be assumed that my window was the backdrop to a movie set. …
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I was out at first light and headed toward Bologna. While standing in the train station in front of an electronic schedule I noticed three young ladies behind me looking over my shoulder. They were three young Americans also looking for the train to Florence, so I introduced myself. Since the four of us had three hours to burn until our train departed, I accompanied one of the young ladies through the streets in search of a sweater. Her mother had purchased her father a sweater from Bologna years ago that he had always enjoyed. …
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I wandered through the station lingering on familiarities. It’s amazing how routines destroyed time and sped things up. There were so many unexpected avenues, detours, new faces and outright pleasures that it seemed as if it had been months since I left here, not days. I got talking up with a couple on the train that had been reading the same travel guide and discovered out we were going in the same directions. …
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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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I awoke the next morning, took an early walk and just couldn’t believe how beautiful everything was. Every so often I claimed a bench with a view and sketch out some thoughts. I headed down toward the harbor to catch a bus to the other side of the island. I planned on seeing the blue grotto. I couldn’t figure out where to pick up a bus and nobody would give me a straight answer so I decided to walk. …
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Roger, a minister from back home who had conducted numerous musicals at our high school and local theater, headed up a choir that was touring Europe this year. I was given their schedule of appearances and some of those dates were approaching, so we made a decision to seek them out rather than tolerate the German rain. …
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One of the secrets learned while traveling is the advantage that can be gained by finding that right taxi cab driver. Once I have selected my chaperone for the day I inquire about his business, ask a few questions to ensure he had the right personality, then I’d ask him to explain the best day he’s had in the taxi business. “I once made twenty dollars”. Then Id’s offer him twenty five to more depending on the economy. Taxi drivers know their way around, where to go and what to see. …
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Behind us we towed a small motor boat. Being an inexperienced sailor, I first thought we brought it along in case the boat began to sink. But no, when strawberries were needed to complete a meal, we suited up and headed in the small motor boat toward a local port. I liked to imagine that it was my blue eyes, or my healthy build, rather than just the curiosity of “Who is he?” …
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When I woke up I notice that my knife was unchaperoned, sitting all by itself. Most likely it was pushed away by me while I slept. There were two elderly gentlemen sitting alongside the same bench staring at me and the knife. I had gotten less than an hour of sleep and was still very tired and in need of a shower. I followed those two gentlemen back into the heart of Naples. …
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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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One irony in my life is that I had very few women friends. Most relationships with women were always aimed toward romance and when that didn’t work out or when we experienced an obstacle that couldn’t be overcome, we’d move on. Mostly I have had male friends, sharing common experience and growing up like all normal boys. But I’ll have to admit, women make pretty good friends. Once that it is understood that not everything is sexual, we get along wonderfully. They make much better traveling companions, easier to agree with, better conversationalists, not as competitive, better sleeping arrangements; they attract a different type of crowd, and if there were benefits attached all the better. …
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