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This world was filled with small narrow roads hidden by hedge groves, secluded lakes, isolated rivers, hills to climb and valleys to explore. Tracking down a castle, graveyard or whatever we had earmarked on our map of antiquities was like our very own secret treasure hunt. Then at the end of every one of these little adventures, we found ourselves staring again at a wonderful pint of local ale, in a small pub in the center of whatever it was the center of. …
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I had earmarked a hostel on the outskirts of Siena but the travel guide didn’t provide a good description of how to get there. I asked a young lady who was sitting across from me on the train if she knew the best way to reach this destination. She made a few attempts to explain but probably the combination of her hearing herself and the expression on my face persuaded her to just show me, so I followed her off the train. …
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I found a good cup of coffee on the square in front of the Duomo, sat there and caught up on my journal while I watched Milan wake up around me. The morning light danced past its arches onto the adjacent building. It was a breathtaking sight, absolutely gorgeous, a very unique structure. I spent some time queuing inside and then sat along the edges of the square. I discovered an excellent restaurant just not far from the Duomo and relaxed to a bottle of wine. …
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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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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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At first light, Jim took advantage of getting up first and had wandered off to the water closet to do his business. In his absence, our late night compartment addition opened up mood tapes, the kind of stuff like mountain brooks and ocean waves. When Jim returned and opened up the compartment door, he first thought he was in the wrong place but his expression of doubt left once he noticed me sitting over in the corner. The mood tapes were nice, I could live with them. But they were only a prelude. …
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Like a bunch of cattle we were herded from the boat to the train station. It was in this company we met a group of young ladies from Costa Mesa California on their way to a concert in Paris. We were scheduled to see U2 in Dublin but that plan kinda got left behind with a bunch of stuffed animals. …
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I convinced Jenni to take another day trip, this time to visit Masada. At the bus depot it was like joining a herd of sheep. If there was a terrorist attack it would not be good. Jenni kept reminding me of that. Alongside the Dead Sea and after passing a few scattered Bedouin camps I found myself wondering how far it was to the next tree. Masada was a magnificent plateau in the middle of nowhere. It’s hard to understand why anybody would be motivated to conquer its walls unless motivated by pride. …
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We proceeded down through the middle of Wales, heading south toward the coast. We followed the hedge groves that lined the road as it meandered like a large serpent, forcing the adjacent hill to bow to its will. …
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With a cup of coffee and a cigarette, I got an early start and headed toward Gavie to see its shores. All this talk about love and kissing had got me thinking about it as well. In regards to the young ladies that had entered my life that I have loved, I always acted as a gentleman and never took control until the door was open and I was invited in. I needed a green light. …
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I’m an early riser and that provides advantages. Like in the morning, there were no lines leading to the showers. I walked around until breakfast and then took the shuttle down to the beach where I planned to spend that entire day on the sand. When I reached the bluffs I began exploring. Jim followed duplicating every picture I took. It is just better to ignore his competitiveness than to give it thought it doesn’t deserve. …
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I picked up a pair of apples and a few candy bars for the trek, while Jim checked the train schedules. “Track four, ready to go” said Jim. After a minute or two with no train, it dawned on me that Jim most likely misread the schedules and picked the wrong platform. I retrieved the schedule from Jim’s bag, “I’ll hold the bags, you go check platform six” I bluntly stated. In the tunnel between the platforms I could hear Jim’s echo, “Its going!!” …
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When I woke I could not shake that dirty feeling. I had felt cleaner waking up on the floor of train stations. It was early. The sun hadn’t come up yet and Jenni was planning on sleeping in, so I headed off to the ruins of Ephesus. That trek started out as a long dark walk. Luckily I eventually hitched a ride. When I reached the front gate the sun began casting long shadows but it was still very cold. …
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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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