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We wandered among its narrow streets that radiated out like spokes to a wheel. Bicycles danced across our path. Up one of these many streets we spotted a small coffee shop adjacent to one of the more picturesque canals. It was a good day for mischief. It had a large window and we noticed that the table upfront was vacant and had a nice view of a small flower market. …
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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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I woke with that taste of too many cigarettes and one too many beers and wandered toward a morning coffee before it was back on the road again. We started down the coast searching for another room, kind of back tracking over the previous day’s plans but we ended up in Monte Carlo instead. It had just begun raining as we headed up one of the steep hills looking for shelter and a cup of coffee. We sat down alongside a window and while we sipped our coffee I noticed a motorcyclist get hit from behind. …
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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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Just as the sun was setting I was on a train bound toward Sicily. I entered a compartment were an older gentleman and two young ladies had made themselves at home. First I thought that he was a dirty old man trying to pick up two young Italian beauties. Once he found out that I spoke English he included a few English words in every other sentence as if he was trying to invite me in their conversations. …
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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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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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Jim joined the hostel attitude. He didn’t want to go anywhere, see anything, he just wanted to stick around the hostel and wash his clothes, so I sought out on my own. I checked out Albert Einstein’s home and then the modern art museum. “One man’s treasure is another man’s trash”. I love art but sometimes. I wandered the market and the local stops searching for Christmas gifts, but ended up buying chocolates to satisfy my taste buds instead. …
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A good shower and I packed up for today’s trek. Our first stop was to see if we could check our bags at the train station but the area used for this service had been closed down some time ago. It was suggested that we try a hotel across the way. Typically hotel won’t check in new customer until around noon but usually will accommodate us early arrivals by watching our bags until check in rolls around. We have done this enough times to know to take advantage of this hospitality. …
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The next morning I hooked up with a young married couple from the states, heading in the same direction. Since we had a few hours until our boat was scheduled to depart we headed into the countryside to get a feel of the island. My German friend from the previous day had not resurfaced. …
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With all the time I’ve been spending on trains I started to find it difficult to sleep without the cluttering of wheel against rail. I had an address of a hostel in Frankfurt that somebody had suggested along the way. It was late and dark when I reached Frankfurt and I didn’t have the best luck making sense of the piece of paper I was carrying. …
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I was told I still had family in Belgrade. My grandmother had given me addresses of relatives so at one point I considered visiting, but the negative idea of just showing up on somebody’s doorstep crept in. I ran it by Jenni. She didn’t have any plans of her own and kind of reluctantly agreed to follow, as long as we were heading north. We spent the rest of the day seeing some of the sights and roaming the streets. The one thing I didn’t want to do was to visit another museum. …
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I was awakened by the sound of sweeping in the distance. It’s funny how things looked different under the light of the day. I really thought we had selected an isolated location where we could be unnoticed but the fact was we practically slept on top of a monument. It was comfortable and no one bothered us and would have been perfect if we weren’t sharing the space with a colony of ants. …
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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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She had circled a small hostel up along the west cost of Northern Ireland in the little travel guide she carried. It was a gorgeous drive and well worth going out of our way. I’ll never forget the look on her face when she first saw her hostel. It was in the middle of nowhere and when the young men came out of the house to greet her, all the sheep ran for the hills. She had the look of a newborn, clinging to our car as if it was her mother. …
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