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I enjoyed traveling on trains through the darkness of those mountains. When there was nothing else to do and I was tired of writing, I just stared at the passing shadows from the darkness of my compartment. I reached Lausanne early in the morning and walked into some confusion. Apparently the airport in Paris was on strike and that had a domino effect across Europe. Every form of information service had a line leading out its door. I noticed a young Finnish girl waiting in one of those lines. …
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We arrive early into Istanbul but were without coinage and to compound our dilemma that day was the Sabbath. All the exchanges in the station were closed. We walked across town and ended up being directed to a major hotel in the area, but they would only exchange money if we weren’t guests of the hotel. “Get a room and we’ll exchange money for you” the receptionist repeated to us twice. The only other option we had was to charter a taxi to the airport, but the taxi wanted to double charge for having two occupants. So Jenni went to the airport while I stayed behind and watched the bags in front of the hotel lobby. …
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Over these last few days, I don’t think there has been a single street or ally way we didn’t accustom ourselves to. Most pubs we stopped in for a pint, maybe even two. About midday I ended up lying out in the middle of Hyde Park, looking up through the trees, day dreaming under the blue sky. It was another gorgeous day. …
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After a morning cup of coffee I took a direct route to the train station and boarded the first train heading towards Barcelona. I didn’t offer Jim a single word. He either followed or went his own way and at that point I wasn’t going to give it too much consideration. I wasn’t interest in continuing the conversation from the night before so sat in my own compartment. About a quarter of the way to Barcelona a group of travelers from North Africa joined in and donated some hash for the ride. …
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When we reached the port we began to wander about. We really didn’t know which way to proceed but luckily we crossed paths with a couple who spoke English. They were retired Americans who had been living abroad for the last three years. Instead of joining a country club or pursuing some hobby back home they decided to see the world at a slow pace. They explained that they would live in a different city every three months or there about and they planned on doing that indefinitely. …
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We proceeded down through the middle of Wales, heading south toward the coast. We followed the hedge groves that lined the road as it meandered like a large serpent, forcing the adjacent hill to bow to its will. …
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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 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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With the crack of dawn we were up to conquer the monster. We had taken the first train into the heart of the Jungrau region, Grindelwald to the base of the Eiger. We surveyed the landscape against a local map and selected the West slope since it was opposite from …
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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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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 continued munching on nuts up to the entrance to the Topkapi Palace, the heart of the Ottoman Empire. I naturally avoided the circumcision room. I was very impressed with the jewels on display. The sultan’s armor had diamonds and emeralds the size of baseballs. I have a lot of respect for somebody who can step on battle field with jewelry of that value and not get raped. We crammed a lot into one day and I was dead on my feet so we didn’t wander far from our hotel to find food. …
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We woke the next morning to a welcome change in rooms. Perhaps a good night’s sleep awaited us. Our little dog was adopted as kinda of mascot. He had been eating and actually gained some weight. By the affection he was receiving his future looked bright. Every day was a beach day and today was no different. Luck did find us. I spent the first few hours at the bar down on the edge of the sand, hair of the dog like the day before and the day before that. About every thirty minutes or so, it was back into the water to wash off the sun. …
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I situated myself behind a cup of coffee in the middle of Oslo’s train station. It was early and I was in clear view of all the entrances and exits, so there would be no chance of Jim missing me. I had already gathered up the necessary supplies to prepare that night’s dinner for Solsberg. After about eight-hours of waiting, I was getting fidgety, actually angry, but assumed Jim probably had a bad connection and was on his way, so I held tight and caught up on my journal. …
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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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