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It was very late, or to be more accurate, real early in the morning. Outside the station it was dark and cold, really cold. Neither one of us were equipped for that type of weather. The streets were covered in ice and our worn tennis shoes didn’t provide much if any traction. When we exited the station we had no idea which way to head to find ourselves a room. There were two others that also exited our train so we began following them in the hopes they would lead us down the right path. We came to a large boulevard lined with large office shaped buildings but there were no signs or lights that provided us any indication that we were heading in the right direction. …
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We headed into Gent to be part of its annual festival. I, like a honeybee, danced from flower to flower collecting smiles, memorable fragrances. The next day started off with the similar ritual of walking into Brugge’s main square for a cup of coffee, this time before we jumped a train into Brussels. We trekked about the old section of the city and checked out the local sites. Muscles in Brussels and beers, muscles in Brussels and beers. …
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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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The next morning I took advantage of the locations that I had found the day before. It was another beautiful day with the sun shining down under a dense curtain of trees. I lounged around in-between the shade of the trees and the heat of the sun. At the end of the day I sat down in the harbor and watched the passing faces leaving the island. …
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A small mini-bus arrived and toted us off to Pamukkale. I only knew what I had read in the bible and in travel brochures about Pamukkale. I understood that it was one of the seven churches Apostle Paul wrote letters to and was coined the “Cotton Castle” of the ancient world. There was an extremely old hot spring that was believed to have healing power and over time became a center of a pagan cult. Large limestone steatite created a beautiful arrangement of pools. …
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The train station was a short walk outside of town but after only about fifty yards or so Jim began complaining. I was at the point where I didn’t even hear him anymore. He threatened to pack his shit up, fly home and didn’t like my “Go or stay but just stop complaining because you’re giving me a headache” response. My thumb attracted a truck that had also picked up a pair of French girls who, like us, got off at the campsite. …
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The gentleman that leased us the car was extremely nice. I am naturally suspicious of people who are too nice and I usually create a bit of a buffer until I’ve figured out their motives. We ended up talking a bit over a cup of tea before we departed south. The agent’s nervous habit of looking out the window was distracting. …
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In front of the morning sun we departed toward Lienz. We were lucky to have the company of a pair of young ladies traveling in the same direction. An interesting conversation made the time disappear and before we knew it our train had come to a stop. I needed to exchange some traveler’s check for cash and explained to Jim and the two girls that I would be a few minutes inside the bank. Once I exited the bank the three had vanished. I spent well over an hour checking one shop after another, up and down just about every street. …
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I managed to get some sleep just prior to boarding an early train into Villach. I didn’t have anything to read and I was getting a little bored. I got out some colored pencils I had been carrying for some time and began coding a chart of guitar chords. I was focused in on what I was doing, dreaming about something when I noticed a strong feeling that I was being watched. I looked over to my left and sitting a couple of rows down the car were three of the cutest little girls all dressed up for Sunday church. …
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I wandered about the northern coast of France skipping from hostel to hostel and enjoying their fine cuisine. Finding excellent food was easy but locating a smile or a friendly gesture from the locals was sometimes impossible. I felt that the rudeness the Northern French dished out actually provided the glue that bonded us tourists closer together. I came across a nice room in Blois and utilized it as home base to visit the chateaus in the area. …
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It was raining a bit and we had a couple of open containers. The roads were narrow with no extra space to speak about. I knew if we got stuck behind another logging truck we could be here for weeks. Once we managed to pass a couple of these trucks we began to make up for some lost time. Jim began complaining that his bladder couldn’t take much more of this abuse but before I was willing to pull over, I wanted to put enough distance between ourselves and the logging trucks. …
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With the morning sun we said our good-byes and headed south back toward Trondheim. Jim turned into a broken record and kept repeating his exploits. When he finally he fell asleep, I soon followed. Somewhere in the middle of a dream the train came to a stop and a voice was broadcast over the intercom. Everybody around us quickly got up out of their seat and ran toward the doors. I didn’t need to understand Norwegian to know I should be doing the same. …
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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 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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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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