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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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Eventually we exhausted our rail pass in Lisbon. It felt good to slow down our pace and relax from the routines associated with traveling by train. We chose a place where the locks worked, the toilet flushed and the view down onto the street below was descent. By the time I reached for the second bottle everything had a rosy glow, and the food was excellent. I must have had quite a smile and/or my wallet was showing because every young lady looking to trade sex for money introduced herself. …
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Sometimes when I take photographs I place more value on where I am standing than what I am looking at. In Rouen I stood where Monet stood. I preferred the light and shade of a subject, the dark spaces that define its character and capture the surroundings of the moment, revealing its alternations. That evening’s twilight was a symphony colored in grey and rose that I watched as I waited for the sun to set. …
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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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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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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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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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We woke the next morning to a welcome change in rooms. Perhaps a good night’s sleep awaited us. Our little dog was adopted as kinda of mascot. He had been eating and actually gained some weight. By the affection he was receiving his future looked bright. Every day was a beach day and today was no different. Luck did find us. I spent the first few hours at the bar down on the edge of the sand, hair of the dog like the day before and the day before that. About every thirty minutes or so, it was back into the water to wash off the sun. …
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She had circled a small hostel up along the west cost of Northern Ireland in the little travel guide she carried. It was a gorgeous drive and well worth going out of our way. I’ll never forget the look on her face when she first saw her hostel. It was in the middle of nowhere and when the young men came out of the house to greet her, all the sheep ran for the hills. She had the look of a newborn, clinging to our car as if it was her mother. …
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We had awakened almost in the same position we had fallen asleep. But now the birds below sang that the morning was new and filled with joy. It was as if natural geometry and rhythms had aligned and everything was clearer than the day before. We traveled hand in hand occasionally catching each other smiling as if it was just a bit hard to believe that we had found one another. …
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We were on the road for about an hour after sunrise. I was passing a small automobile with what looked to be three construction workers on their way to work. As I sped up to pass them, I caught some of the loose gravel and slid sideways into them. I’d say we at least traded paint but when I slowed down to deal with the situation they kept on driving. …
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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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One irony in my life is that I had very few women friends. Most relationships with women were always aimed toward romance and when that didn’t work out or when we experienced an obstacle that couldn’t be overcome, we’d move on. Mostly I have had male friends, sharing common experience and growing up like all normal boys. But I’ll have to admit, women make pretty good friends. Once that it is understood that not everything is sexual, we get along wonderfully. They make much better traveling companions, easier to agree with, better conversationalists, not as competitive, better sleeping arrangements; they attract a different type of crowd, and if there were benefits attached all the better. …
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Kate joined us on the walk into town that morning. She needed to stop off at the post office while the two of us procured tickets for today’s journey. Kate was a very sweet lady and this was a pleasurable visit. We said our goodbyes over lunch and she saw us off at the dock. We met up with the same American gentleman we originally asked directions from when we first arrived. …
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I looked down and saw the speck that was our car and I could almost make out Jim sitting there reading his book. “You’re missing out”, I yelled. I realize coming off one of these mountain I lost my wallet. Backtracked but couldn’t find it. Not much money and no credentials or credit cards inside, so that was a relief, but I did lose my address book. So for all those that I promised I would write, please accept this as my apology. …
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