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There were about eight of us on a train traveling from Sweden across the Arctic Circle into Finland. When we reached a painted line across the tracks, the train stopped and they ushered us out for a celebration. When the speeches were over, they actually gave each of us a certificate validating our crossing, woopty-do. It was a nice opportunity to stretch our legs, until we came to learn that this leg stretching exercise would continue for another few hours. …
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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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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?” …
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It was a relief to be back on a dry train. When we reached Paris we found it almost impossible to find ourselves a friendly word from the locals. It was like the Parisians were trained at youth to be rude to foreigners. Their rudeness came so easily it must have been a mandatory subject in their schools. …
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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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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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The next morning I took advantage of the locations that I had found the day before. It was another beautiful day with the sun shining down under a dense curtain of trees. I lounged around in-between the shade of the trees and the heat of the sun. At the end of the day I sat down in the harbor and watched the passing faces leaving the island. …
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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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We proceeded down this path through a country side park, colored and shaded by many trees and leading into one of the many veins of London’s underground. When we resurfaced we were in the heart of London. It arose more from the haze of my memory than from the morning fog, my childhood memories of nursery rhymes and children songs accompanied every step. …
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We caught a morning bus into Bath. There was such a beautiful view out the window I hardly noticed any of the other passengers. I could almost imagine hearing the hunter’s horn heralding from the hills, the sound of dogs running alongside the hooves of horses. I gazed at the many sheep spattered like white paint against the green, divided by a patchwork of trees and fences. …
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In a middle of a dream a young man introduced himself to me, explained that we knew one another and that he had something to show me. I looked at his face and couldn’t recall where we had met or when. He stated that he had been given permission to show me something and at that moment opened what could be best described as a door. Behind the opened door I saw billions of people of all ages, with all characteristics, moving frantically as if searching for someone important to them. As I moved closer I noticed that my mind did not perceive the physical characteristics of these people. …
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The sunrise was a picture to behold. Sitting on that beach was like being the only person on the planet. Once we were all up and awake we attempted to hide the remains of the burnt telephone pole and headed up to meet the first bus to Nicolas. We were in need of a shower and food. We took advantage of the stop over on the way to Nicolas which provided enough time to grab some real food. We were all so hungry but still skeptical after the last experience. Once we stepped off the bus in Nicolas a little fat kid’s persistence persuaded us to follow him to an available room. …
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We woke to another picturesque day and it wasn’t till we began driving the Ring of Kerry that we realized it was also a lucky day. We were heading clockwise, south to north and every possible tourist and circus was traveling in the other direction. This gave us the ability to stop and enjoy the scenery and not second guess our place in line or force us to let others dictate our pace. …
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I was told of a nice beach just outside of Pisa so I snuck in an early shower again and took an early train out. Tuscany provided an enchanting landscape painted in pastels. I followed the tourists to the tower in Pisa, gave my two cents and climbed to the top. With all those people hanging all over it I was surprised it hadn’t fallen and decided to head down before it did. After strolling through the Duomo and viewing Ramous’s doors I wandered across the river to get a feel for the countryside and sat along the side of the bridge thinking. Truth, like art is sometimes in the eye of the beholder. …
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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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