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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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We rolled early into Hamburg. Since we had reduced our load to just the essentials, we could now fit all of our belongings into a single locker. We wandered about Hamburg searching for a suitable place to put down some breakfast and a few early morning beers. That day had been earmarked as a day to relax, to kick back and enjoy the city’s parks and its many bridges. …
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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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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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I awoke the next morning, took an early walk and just couldn’t believe how beautiful everything was. Every so often I claimed a bench with a view and sketch out some thoughts. I headed down toward the harbor to catch a bus to the other side of the island. I planned on seeing the blue grotto. I couldn’t figure out where to pick up a bus and nobody would give me a straight answer so I decided to walk. …
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Our train ended in Karajevo where we were left to wait for a bus. There was nowhere to hide from the cold so we all had to move around a lot and it seemed like the bus was ever going to show. We had scattered moments of sleep, moving here, moving there, trying to forget how cold it was. That was one bad night. The bus eventually showed up late and wasn’t scheduled to enter Dubrovnik until around breakfast. I just dazed out looking past my reflection at blackness that was the sea passing by in a blur. …
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Roger, a minister from back home who had conducted numerous musicals at our high school and local theater, headed up a choir that was touring Europe this year. I was given their schedule of appearances and some of those dates were approaching, so we made a decision to seek them out rather than tolerate the German rain. …
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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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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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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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Eventually the crowds gathered and like sheep we were herded onto the boat. I managed to weasel my way through the gridlock to the sunny side of the ship, found myself a deck chair and began to relax under the sun. There was a young lady who had the same idea and took the liberty to pull her chair up next to mine and start up a conversation. Honestly I was more interested in her bathing suit than the conversation. From here the view was spectacular. Thousands of white sails littered the horizon and the many islands looked as if God scattered them from his own hand. …
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With the morning sun we said our good-byes and headed south back toward Trondheim. Jim turned into a broken record and kept repeating his exploits. When he finally he fell asleep, I soon followed. Somewhere in the middle of a dream the train came to a stop and a voice was broadcast over the intercom. Everybody around us quickly got up out of their seat and ran toward the doors. I didn’t need to understand Norwegian to know I should be doing the same. …
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We continued munching on nuts up to the entrance to the Topkapi Palace, the heart of the Ottoman Empire. I naturally avoided the circumcision room. I was very impressed with the jewels on display. The sultan’s armor had diamonds and emeralds the size of baseballs. I have a lot of respect for somebody who can step on battle field with jewelry of that value and not get raped. We crammed a lot into one day and I was dead on my feet so we didn’t wander far from our hotel to find food. …
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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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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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