15 Jul 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Travelogue, 0 Comments
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. (more…)
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17 Jul 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Travelogue, 0 Comments
Behind us we towed a small motor boat. Being an inexperienced sailor, I first thought we brought it along in case the boat began to sink. But no, when strawberries were needed to complete a meal, we suited up and headed in the small motor boat toward a local port. I liked to imagine that it was my blue eyes, or my healthy build, rather than just the curiosity of “Who is he?” (more…)
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20 Jul 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Travelogue, 0 Comments
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. (more…)
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21 Jul 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Travelogue, 0 Comments
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. (more…)
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23 Jul 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Travelogue, 0 Comments
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. (more…)
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