03 Jun 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Travelogue, 0 Comments

06/03 Oxfornd, England


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.  (more…)

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    Usually behind a cup of coffee waiting for the world around me to wake up I entered today’s thoughts about yesterday’s activities into my travel journal. I’m not a writer, so I’ll apologize in advance if I jump around or seem confused. These are just the thoughts of a young man who left his possessions behind and who believes that getting lost is how one finds oneself.

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