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A trip to Zermatt was next on my agenda, so the next day was nothing but train travel. When I finally reached Visp I hit a fork in the road and needed to make a decision on whether to fork out an extra nineteen dollars for a round trip train ticket or to thumb my way into Zermatt. The rail to Zermatt was a private railroad and not covered under my rail pass. I looked around and since there was not a single car heading in that direction my decision was made easily. …
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It was very late, or to be more accurate, real early in the morning. Outside the station it was dark and cold, really cold. Neither one of us were equipped for that type of weather. The streets were covered in ice and our worn tennis shoes didn’t provide much if any traction. When we exited the station we had no idea which way to head to find ourselves a room. There were two others that also exited our train so we began following them in the hopes they would lead us down the right path. We came to a large boulevard lined with large office shaped buildings but there were no signs or lights that provided us any indication that we were heading in the right direction. …
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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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I situated myself behind a cup of coffee in the middle of Oslo’s train station. It was early and I was in clear view of all the entrances and exits, so there would be no chance of Jim missing me. I had already gathered up the necessary supplies to prepare that night’s dinner for Solsberg. After about eight-hours of waiting, I was getting fidgety, actually angry, but assumed Jim probably had a bad connection and was on his way, so I held tight and caught up on my journal. …
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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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When I woke up I notice that my knife was unchaperoned, sitting all by itself. Most likely it was pushed away by me while I slept. There were two elderly gentlemen sitting alongside the same bench staring at me and the knife. I had gotten less than an hour of sleep and was still very tired and in need of a shower. I followed those two gentlemen back into the heart of Naples. …
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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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Took a morning boat to Giudecca to visit a glass shop and took advantage of the weather and the sand. The hostel I went to check out was over crowded with mostly children running about, so spent the remains of the day back on the main island. Before dark I had gathered up my things and boarded a train towards Padova. Across from me sat a beautiful young lady with a twinkle in her eye and I caught a smile or two. Sex was in the air so I broke the ice. …
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The West Coast of Scotland was absolutely gorgeous and we still hadn’t seen any bad weather. Trekking along the coastal cliffs and the Island of Skye can only be described as a religious experience. This is God’s country. Gardens touched by the finger of God. A clouded island littered with crofts and memories of the day before Culloden. …
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I managed to get some sleep just prior to boarding an early train into Villach. I didn’t have anything to read and I was getting a little bored. I got out some colored pencils I had been carrying for some time and began coding a chart of guitar chords. I was focused in on what I was doing, dreaming about something when I noticed a strong feeling that I was being watched. I looked over to my left and sitting a couple of rows down the car were three of the cutest little girls all dressed up for Sunday church. …
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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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When we finally reached Villach and obtained some currency, sugar was on the menu. I found a dream of bakeries and was operating on the ‘try everything once’ premise, but we cut that short for some real food. We spent the rest of the day checking out shop windows. Jenni expressed a passion for shop windows. I suggested that she get herself a nice camera and perhaps someday she would publish a book. …
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Even though all the other guys had paid for a room joining the ladies outside became a priority. Good looking women typically have that effect over men. We all traded stories and passed around a few bottles of alcohol. By the time we reached Corfu we had assembled into an interesting group of travelers. Once we hit Corfu’s dock an elderly lady persuaded us to check out her hotel. I used our group’s size as a bargaining chip and obtained a better rate for the group. …
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As I reached the Arctic Circle, I got off the train in what seemed to be a ghost town. I would assume it was at least three in the morning and everything in sight was closed. Although early in the morning the sun was still up creating an odd feeling, like being on a set of a twilight zone episode. You could tell something was off. I was carrying an address of a good place to stay that was given to me somewhere along the road. At that point I really didn’t care how nice it was as long as it had a working shower. …
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I wanted to make an early start and head into Algora but it was a bit out of the way and didn’t poise enough of an attraction to make the detour. We did manage to make it out early and followed the rails into the Parenoes and eventually made it into Polgceria, La Tour the Carol. When we reached the border between Spain and France again they were still unwilling to share trains so we were forced to exit and board a new. We took advantage of this opportunity to gather up some traveling snacks. I told Jim on two occasions that he ought to pick it up but all I got in return was an attitude. “I’ll see you on the train then.” …
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