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At first light, Jim took advantage of getting up first and had wandered off to the water closet to do his business. In his absence, our late night compartment addition opened up mood tapes, the kind of stuff like mountain brooks and ocean waves. When Jim returned and opened up the compartment door, he first thought he was in the wrong place but his expression of doubt left once he noticed me sitting over in the corner. The mood tapes were nice, I could live with them. But they were only a prelude. …
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We were up early, followed advice we received during the last night socializing and joined the “Club Innsbruck” for a day hike. A young Belgium woman had crossed our path searching for the same location. It was early in the morning and we were the first to arrive, so there was nobody gathered outside to identify if we had found our destination. She seemed very nice but didn’t say much. It was apparent she was very shy. They began handing out daypacks and boots if needed. …
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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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I found a gorgeous room in Fribourg that overlooked the main square that surrounded the church. It had a lovely café out front and was an ideal location to watch foot traffic and to catch up on my journal. There was a gentleman who showed up playing the harmonica and really put on a show. Talk about envy, “I wish I could play like that”. …
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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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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 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 was up early to the sound of the alarm aside my bed. Still half asleep my brain jumped into gear once it realized where I was. I was full of renewed energy and headed south down the empty street where Ann had disappeared. I sat behind a cup of coffee inside a small café across the street from where she had vanished. I had knocked on one of the doors and then another but with no response. …
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At the breakfast table there were rumors of another train strike, so about six of us headed out early to attempt to board the last train prior to any stoppage. Our destination was Mont-St-Michel. When the island first came within view I stood there for some time and gazed at its glory. It had more a look of a cover to a picture book than something actually real, a castle right out of some fairytale. There were endless fields of mud waiting for the imprint of somebody’s foot. …
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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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The young man, who originally invited me to his parent’s house, got up at first light and ran off to work. His friend Brent left to pick up his girl friend. I began to prepare omelets for the returning couple and took the liberty of cleaning up the house from the night before. Brent’s girlfriend was very sweet and quite attractive. …
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The storm passed through very quickly. When the sun rose I gathered up my things and without even saying goodbye I headed down the volcano like I was escaping. I had just come out of a sulfur cloud, was coated in mud and must have smelled like shit. I sure felt like shit. When I finally made it back down to the residence below they too were cover in mud. I’m glad somebody could laugh at this. The first two people I saw were in the process of shoveling themselves out of the mud. …
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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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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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I convinced Jenni to take another day trip, this time to visit Masada. At the bus depot it was like joining a herd of sheep. If there was a terrorist attack it would not be good. Jenni kept reminding me of that. Alongside the Dead Sea and after passing a few scattered Bedouin camps I found myself wondering how far it was to the next tree. Masada was a magnificent plateau in the middle of nowhere. It’s hard to understand why anybody would be motivated to conquer its walls unless motivated by pride. …
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