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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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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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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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The West Coast of Scotland was absolutely gorgeous and we still hadn’t seen any bad weather. Trekking along the coastal cliffs and the Island of Skye can only be described as a religious experience. This is God’s country. Gardens touched by the finger of God. A clouded island littered with crofts and memories of the day before Culloden. …
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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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Our train ended in Karajevo where we were left to wait for a bus. There was nowhere to hide from the cold so we all had to move around a lot and it seemed like the bus was ever going to show. We had scattered moments of sleep, moving here, moving there, trying to forget how cold it was. That was one bad night. The bus eventually showed up late and wasn’t scheduled to enter Dubrovnik until around breakfast. I just dazed out looking past my reflection at blackness that was the sea passing by in a blur. …
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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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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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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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I woke up with a serious problem. I don’t know if it was the combination of the exercise the other day, the consumption of alcohol or both but my arms had stiffened to the point where I could not extend them beyond a forty five degree angle. I tried carried my bags first in one hand and then the other using the weight of the bags to help stretch out my muscles, very scary. …
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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 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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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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Jim joined the hostel attitude. He didn’t want to go anywhere, see anything, he just wanted to stick around the hostel and wash his clothes, so I sought out on my own. I checked out Albert Einstein’s home and then the modern art museum. “One man’s treasure is another man’s trash”. I love art but sometimes. I wandered the market and the local stops searching for Christmas gifts, but ended up buying chocolates to satisfy my taste buds instead. …
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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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