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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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After a morning cup of coffee I took a direct route to the train station and boarded the first train heading towards Barcelona. I didn’t offer Jim a single word. He either followed or went his own way and at that point I wasn’t going to give it too much consideration. I wasn’t interest in continuing the conversation from the night before so sat in my own compartment. About a quarter of the way to Barcelona a group of travelers from North Africa joined in and donated some hash for the ride. …
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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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I woke to what I thought was a scream. Eventually I realized that it was the manager of the hotel yelling at somebody. Apparently Dawn had spent the night with a young man who got himself caught on his way to the bathroom. That was the sign I needed to change locations and find a new room closer to the restaurants. I managed to locate a much nicer room directly across the street from what I had labeled the best restaurants and it was a whole lot cheaper. I guess this time I didn’t to have to compensate a taxi driver. …
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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 was up early to the sound of the alarm aside my bed. Still half asleep my brain jumped into gear once it realized where I was. I was full of renewed energy and headed south down the empty street where Ann had disappeared. I sat behind a cup of coffee inside a small café across the street from where she had vanished. I had knocked on one of the doors and then another but with no response. …
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One night at Mik’s place while passing around the pipe, he weaved stories of sprits possessing the trails between the white horse and the many rock circles heading north. I could almost visualize these images he was painting and hear the pounding of drums in the wind, as I focused in on the flames dancing with the beat. …
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Early morning trekked across town and I followed the cats to the Coliseum. I was disappointed it was a ruin. I would really have enjoyed if it had been rebuilt and had the opportunity to see mock gladiatorial games or mythological dramas within its walls. When I was young my exposure to that type of history was either through reading books or viewing movies but to actually stand in such a historical site awakened the senses of my imagination. I could almost make out the roar of the lions and the cheer from the crowd. …
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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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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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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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I wasn’t sure if our bus could make the trip but luckily Bethlehem was not that far of a ride. Bethlehem was rather small and unexpectedly vacant. Typically I liked to walk around the outskirts and then worked my way back toward my destination. That gives me a better feeling of where I am. The church was also empty and there was nobody inside its wall but the two of us. It was kind of a shell of a church with an altar at the far end. …
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I was out at first light and headed toward Bologna. While standing in the train station in front of an electronic schedule I noticed three young ladies behind me looking over my shoulder. They were three young Americans also looking for the train to Florence, so I introduced myself. Since the four of us had three hours to burn until our train departed, I accompanied one of the young ladies through the streets in search of a sweater. Her mother had purchased her father a sweater from Bologna years ago that he had always enjoyed. …
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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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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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