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A small mini-bus arrived and toted us off to Pamukkale. I only knew what I had read in the bible and in travel brochures about Pamukkale. I understood that it was one of the seven churches Apostle Paul wrote letters to and was coined the “Cotton Castle” of the ancient world. There was an extremely old hot spring that was believed to have healing power and over time became a center of a pagan cult. Large limestone steatite created a beautiful arrangement of pools. …
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I was up before the sun and headed out to get an early start. At the beginning of my trek I crossed paths with the boyfriend from the night before. Apparently they didn’t make it back before curfew and ended up spending half the night locating another room. To compound that inconvenience he explained that the room they found had a cement floor and had been just too cold to sleep comfortably. …
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I wandered about the northern coast of France skipping from hostel to hostel and enjoying their fine cuisine. Finding excellent food was easy but locating a smile or a friendly gesture from the locals was sometimes impossible. I felt that the rudeness the Northern French dished out actually provided the glue that bonded us tourists closer together. I came across a nice room in Blois and utilized it as home base to visit the chateaus in the area. …
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We discovered Lake Brienzersee early that next morning. My entire side was bruised and I had scab from elbow to waist, even through the pain the lake’s unique color of blue was almost hypnotizing. We docked at Glessbach to walk the falls. Fighting through the soreness of my abused legs was worth the effort. …
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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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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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We rose early and spent the entire day wandering the pedestrian streets and central squares popping in and out of small cafes and trendy boutiques. That’s right, trendy boutiques. The young ladies that gather in these places are quite attractive. Carlsberg and then followed the tree-lined avenues to the harbor.
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We ended up in Oslo’s train station an hour and a half earlier than we had originally planned. We had eaten and kind of ran out of touring options and found ourselves debating on which train to depart on. One train left at eleven and the other at midnight. Jim was having another one of his bad days, randomly complaining about everything and anything that came into view. I wasn’t up for spending much time sitting in this vacant station with only Jim’s attitude to entertain me. When the first of the two trains arrived, Jim walked the length of the train while I watched the gear. “There’s no first class, so let’s wait for the next one” Jim demanded. …
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Alongside the darkness we walked the city streets. It was a different feel since the majority of the shops were boarded up for the night. It gave the streets a maze like feel. We came upon a community of water pipes where I sat across from an elderly blind man and a few of his companions. We shared a pot of spearmint tea and a conversation. I had a picture taken but it was very dark and without a flash I wasn’t sure if it would come out. …
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I was up early, grabbed a table and a few chairs and set them up on the sand. I sat and gazed out on the empty bay writing until the others woke. A pot of coffee soon followed and then breakfast. The girls were taking about exploring the city’s bizarre, a female shopping ritual. I on the other hand I was invited to go with the men. Bear hunting was on the agenda. We all loaded onto a friend’s boat and headed along the coast to a location that supposedly had a recent bear sighting. …
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I was intrigued with the works of Escher and understood there was an exhibit in the Hage, so I persuaded Jim to board a late train out of Luxembourg. We arrived in to Rotterdam even later. There didn’t seem to be anybody but the two of us, the streets were virtually empty. We wandered toward the lights advertising vacancies and pounded on doors until one finally opened. The price the gentlemen in pajamas requested was outrageous. …
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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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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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We charted a bus north up the coast into Split where I was able to see the beautiful coast line. One of the advantages of traveling in baby steps is that we could stop at those beautiful places and not neglect the details that make each special. When we reached Split we headed through the walls of the old city seeking a room for the night. We either were appalled at the high prices for a room or they didn’t have any available. Since our budget was deflating I posed an option to Jenni. …
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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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