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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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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 awoke the next morning, took an early walk and just couldn’t believe how beautiful everything was. Every so often I claimed a bench with a view and sketch out some thoughts. I headed down toward the harbor to catch a bus to the other side of the island. I planned on seeing the blue grotto. I couldn’t figure out where to pick up a bus and nobody would give me a straight answer so I decided to walk. …
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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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Just as the sun was setting I was on a train bound toward Sicily. I entered a compartment were an older gentleman and two young ladies had made themselves at home. First I thought that he was a dirty old man trying to pick up two young Italian beauties. Once he found out that I spoke English he included a few English words in every other sentence as if he was trying to invite me in their conversations. …
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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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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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Early morning trekked across town and I followed the cats to the Coliseum. I was disappointed it was a ruin. I would really have enjoyed if it had been rebuilt and had the opportunity to see mock gladiatorial games or mythological dramas within its walls. When I was young my exposure to that type of history was either through reading books or viewing movies but to actually stand in such a historical site awakened the senses of my imagination. I could almost make out the roar of the lions and the cheer from the crowd. …
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The clouds had parted and the wings of our plane began to dry. The very first thing I noticed was that “I wasn’t in Kansas anymore”. Gatwick Airport had green pastures on both sides of the runway. Unconcerned cows looked up at our passing plane. This was a total contrast to the cement landscape we left behind in LA. …
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I awoke from a dream that I could not remember and found it difficult to head back into that sleep. My mind was overtaken with a feeling that I should not have left Ann. I felt that she had reached out to me and I in some way had abandoned her. At that moment I decided I needed to return to her. That thought combined with a lot of other ingredients lead me to the decision to leave then, not later but that moment. …
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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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With all the time I’ve been spending on trains I started to find it difficult to sleep without the cluttering of wheel against rail. I had an address of a hostel in Frankfurt that somebody had suggested along the way. It was late and dark when I reached Frankfurt and I didn’t have the best luck making sense of the piece of paper I was carrying. …
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Alongside the darkness we walked the city streets. It was a different feel since the majority of the shops were boarded up for the night. It gave the streets a maze like feel. We came upon a community of water pipes where I sat across from an elderly blind man and a few of his companions. We shared a pot of spearmint tea and a conversation. I had a picture taken but it was very dark and without a flash I wasn’t sure if it would come out. …
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Eventually the crowds gathered and like sheep we were herded onto the boat. I managed to weasel my way through the gridlock to the sunny side of the ship, found myself a deck chair and began to relax under the sun. There was a young lady who had the same idea and took the liberty to pull her chair up next to mine and start up a conversation. Honestly I was more interested in her bathing suit than the conversation. From here the view was spectacular. Thousands of white sails littered the horizon and the many islands looked as if God scattered them from his own hand. …
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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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