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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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We headed into Gent to be part of its annual festival. I, like a honeybee, danced from flower to flower collecting smiles, memorable fragrances. The next day started off with the similar ritual of walking into Brugge’s main square for a cup of coffee, this time before we jumped a train into Brussels. We trekked about the old section of the city and checked out the local sites. Muscles in Brussels and beers, muscles in Brussels and beers. …
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At first light, Jim took advantage of getting up first and had wandered off to the water closet to do his business. In his absence, our late night compartment addition opened up mood tapes, the kind of stuff like mountain brooks and ocean waves. When Jim returned and opened up the compartment door, he first thought he was in the wrong place but his expression of doubt left once he noticed me sitting over in the corner. The mood tapes were nice, I could live with them. But they were only a prelude. …
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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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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 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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We were up early, followed advice we received during the last night socializing and joined the “Club Innsbruck” for a day hike. A young Belgium woman had crossed our path searching for the same location. It was early in the morning and we were the first to arrive, so there was nobody gathered outside to identify if we had found our destination. She seemed very nice but didn’t say much. It was apparent she was very shy. They began handing out daypacks and boots if needed. …
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The young man, who originally invited me to his parent’s house, got up at first light and ran off to work. His friend Brent left to pick up his girl friend. I began to prepare omelets for the returning couple and took the liberty of cleaning up the house from the night before. Brent’s girlfriend was very sweet and quite attractive. …
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I found a gorgeous room in Fribourg that overlooked the main square that surrounded the church. It had a lovely café out front and was an ideal location to watch foot traffic and to catch up on my journal. There was a gentleman who showed up playing the harmonica and really put on a show. Talk about envy, “I wish I could play like that”. …
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Thank God everyday was a sunny beach day. I began the day with some hair of the dog in a small grass shack that hugged the sand leading toward the water, just like yesterday. I struck up a conversation with a young lady who had given me a strange gesture after a fly had landed on her shoulder. We all look from different angles don’t we? She was disgusted with the idea that the fly was attracted to something on her body. I on the other hand would be more concerned with what the fly might have brought to me. It’s a wonderful world that has more than one color. …
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We had awakened almost in the same position we had fallen asleep. But now the birds below sang that the morning was new and filled with joy. It was as if natural geometry and rhythms had aligned and everything was clearer than the day before. We traveled hand in hand occasionally catching each other smiling as if it was just a bit hard to believe that we had found one another. …
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Imprisoned by my own curiosity. I felt as if I was looking up through trees that encircled my view, staring at the many branches and the fruits suspended beyond my grasp. I knew I could no longer be satisfied simply to lie here on my back, closing my eyes and dreaming of things out of my reach.
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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 looked down and saw the speck that was our car and I could almost make out Jim sitting there reading his book. “You’re missing out”, I yelled. I realize coming off one of these mountain I lost my wallet. Backtracked but couldn’t find it. Not much money and no credentials or credit cards inside, so that was a relief, but I did lose my address book. So for all those that I promised I would write, please accept this as my apology. …
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We woke the next morning to a welcome change in rooms. Perhaps a good night’s sleep awaited us. Our little dog was adopted as kinda of mascot. He had been eating and actually gained some weight. By the affection he was receiving his future looked bright. Every day was a beach day and today was no different. Luck did find us. I spent the first few hours at the bar down on the edge of the sand, hair of the dog like the day before and the day before that. About every thirty minutes or so, it was back into the water to wash off the sun. …
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