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I darted around from one small town to another and eventually followed a young lady into Kuopio. She explained that she had been traveling in Germany for the past few weeks and was reuniting with her boyfriend that evening. We kinda hit it off and she went out of her way to call a few of her friends to see if they could accommodate me with a room. She found me a beautiful cottage alongside one of the many lakes. I understood the cottage was her parents or an Aunt but they, like most the folks this time of year, were away on holiday. …
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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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We had planned on seeing Urgup and the Goreme Valley and headed out into the streets in search for the tourist office. It was still very cold but it was like a reversed microwave, my bones were colder than my skin. We located what we believed was the tourist office but there were no brochures or posters to confirm that we had found the right place. Everybody inside was huddled around a small stove trying to keep warm. They explained there were no buses or organized tours this late in the year and suggested we find ourselves a taxi driver. …
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I woke with that taste of too many cigarettes and one too many beers and wandered toward a morning coffee before it was back on the road again. We started down the coast searching for another room, kind of back tracking over the previous day’s plans but we ended up in Monte Carlo instead. It had just begun raining as we headed up one of the steep hills looking for shelter and a cup of coffee. We sat down alongside a window and while we sipped our coffee I noticed a motorcyclist get hit from behind. …
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One night at Mik’s place while passing around the pipe, he weaved stories of sprits possessing the trails between the white horse and the many rock circles heading north. I could almost visualize these images he was painting and hear the pounding of drums in the wind, as I focused in on the flames dancing with the beat. …
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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 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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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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We rose early and spent the entire day wandering the pedestrian streets and central squares popping in and out of small cafes and trendy boutiques. That’s right, trendy boutiques. The young ladies that gather in these places are quite attractive. Carlsberg and then followed the tree-lined avenues to the harbor.
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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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Today’s plan was to wander around the city in an attempt to locate our choir from home. After another walk along the river, around the castle and up and down the many streets, I got the feeling we had taken the wrong approach to find our choir. I began thinking it a better approach to let them find me. That would at least reduce the walking. In the middle of the squares in-between the castle and the church sat a large chess set, with pieces about two and a half feet in height. …
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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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I planned on taking a bus over to the ruins in Lindos but Jenni wasn’t feeling well and wasn’t too motivated to go anywhere. “I’ll see you tonight” I told her. The thought of missing something changed her mind and she decided to come along anyway. It was a nice sunny day with a cool breeze. A gorgeous little white washed village lodged under a Roman acropolis. …
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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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We took a tour bus around the lock, walked along the water’s edge, waited and watched but never did see a sea monster. I took off my shoes along its edge and waded ankle deep, for only seconds. To a California boy this was cold. One old man told me that this sea monster stuff had a lot to do with how much whiskey was drunk, but that didn’t help either. …
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