Travels 2023

 Day Five: Overcast this morning so I decided to sleep in. By the time I woke up the sun had broken through the gray clouds. No wind to speak of so I used my new cook stove to make breakfast consisting of an egg Bap and coffee. Found some missing stuff I'll need to pick up today. Emptied the tent, cleaned it out the bugs and grass, then put things back in neatly. For years I've carried a little bag where I keep my change of money. In go the dollars out come the pounds, in go the pounds out comes the Euros, etc. Looks like I've gone and lost it along with 100.00 Euro and 100.00 Rupees. Must have dropped it when I Pulled the Pounds out. Not that many places it could be hiding. Cleaned up my bike a bit and set up the "GoPro" camera. Had a rather interesting experience. I was doing a wash and while sitting in the washroom a young lady comes and we start to chat. Seems she has been on a walk-about in England since May of 2022. She sat down to read her book which low and behold was the same book I'm currently reading. Now this is not a run-of-the-mill book. It is called Wanders In the New Forest which I had just picked up as it looked interesting. What are the chances of a chance meeting both reading an out-of-ordinary book? Sometimes the world is a surprising place.

May 13, 2019: Back to England

For the first time in five years, I will fly to London Heathrow and not to Dublin.  For some reason known only to the airport operators and the airlines flying into Heathrow was cheaper this year.  I encountered the first problem when Mark and I arrived at Skyharbor Airport, Terminal three.  It seems that Delta is one of two major airlines that fly from this terminal.  I had an 11 am flight, and the place was virtually empty.  Breezed through check-in and as is our custom we when in search of a restaurant for breakfast. There is only a little expensive coffee shop available everything else is on the other side of customs.  This left us with a teeny tiny little muffin and a small cupa reclassified as large.

We said our goodbyes, and I headed to the Precheck line for a very quick security check.  I then headed to the gate to wait for my flight.  About an hour later I was on board and settled into my aisle seat.  We took off on time so far, so good.  Arrived in St. Paul Minnesota on time, which was great since by the time we landed, according to my boarding pass, my flight to London would already be boarding.  I rush to my gate, which as not that far low and beholds they had not started boarding on time.  I’m one of the luckies that get to board early so off I go.  I get to my assigned seat and do a double take of the seat I picked. NO! this can’t be correct.

I always chose an aisle seat for the flight from Phoenix to whatever airport I’m flying to Europe.  I ALWAYS chose a window seat for the flight to Europe so that I can lean my pillowed head up against the bulkhead.  The ticket shows I had chosen an aisle seat for the flight across the pond. NOOOOOO!  Well, that’s that I settle in and await my seatmate which is always worrisome.  Skinny kid slides up and without so much of a how do you do says, “That’s my seat!”  I get up and in he goes put his earphones in losing himself in his world.

O.K.!  We are off for London.  After dinner accompanied by three free glasses of wine, I can usually go to sleep.  Well, that’s not happening so I watch a couple of movies see if I’ll nod off. Not happening.  There is one empty window seat in the very back.  I ask one of the crew members, all of whom seemed to be over 60 if I could sit there.  After looking at me like a deer in the headlights, she points to a vacant aisle seat. I attempt to tell her I already have an aisle seat, but she doesn’t get it.  Back to my seat and manage about two hours of sleep and then watch another movie.

Heathrow: walk for about 20 minutes to reach customs.  Once there the line seems to go on forever and I sware that from now on no matter the cost I’m only flying into Dublin.  Get through customs, get my bag, head to the train station which is in a different terminal. Walk another 45 minutes again swearing only to fly into Dublin. Get to the train station can’t by a ticket to Salisbury one of the customer service people never heard of it. “I’m a London person,” she states as it that explains why she can’t help a customer.  At this point, I opt for the bus, and off I go to the Central Bus Station.  There I purchased a bus ticket to a town called Woking where I catch the train to Salisbury.  I’ve done this many times and usually the quickest way to get there.

Woking: It was an enjoyable ride as the day is beautiful, all sunshiny, blue skies, and gentle breezes.  I enter the train station, which is busier than I’ve ever seen it.  The ticket line is out the door, people milling about in what seemed like confusion as to what to do.  I get myself into a queue to purchase my ticket.  I’ve checked out the train board which tells me my train is delayed.  No big deal trains are delayed a lot in the U.K.   Reaching the ticket agent he tells me my train may be delayed up to three hours. What the  hell I think and say to him, “no worries, I’ll get there when I get there.”  He laughs as if thankfully I’m not going to give him a ration of shit for the train being off.

On the train platform, I do not hear the usual “mind the gap announcement.”  There is nothing but announcements about canceled or delayed trains.  So I’m psyched up for a three hour way, but as luck would have it 45 minutes later, I’m on the train to Salisbury.  I seem someone got themselves run over by a train closer to London is why things are all mucked up.  Nice train ride car is warm due to the sun shining in the window, and I’m nodding off.  Every year I have brought home from my travels a minimum of 100 Pounds and 100 Euros to be used the following year.  I have looked in the places I usually stash the money but can’t find it so thinking I left it home.  I’m thinking of taking a cab asking the driver to stop by a bank to get some money.  Upon reaching Salisbury, I decide to walk and enjoy the day which I do

After a warm greeting by the staff at the college, it’s time for a nap.  I arrived at Heathrow at 7 am, and it is now 3 pm.  I decided to take dinner at the college and then settle in for a good nights sleep and that is just what I did!

My Bike

The pictures are of the second bike I purchased in England. If I remember correctly I purchased it from Stonehenge Cycle in 2010 and is a duplicate of the bike I have at home.  I just picked it up from Hayball's Cycle shop where it lives when I'm not in England.  This is how it looks when I drop it off and head home.

Tomorrow I'll add the rear panniers and head out to the campgrounds in Hudsons Field I think.  I have almost a week before the Festival starts so I might just go on a ride for a week. We'll see tomorrow.

The opening the panniers on the front is like receiving a gift every year because I don't remember what I left in them.  The trunk has a blanket which my friend Gary calls a poncho liner.  It is where I carry my non-perishable food when I ride; well some perishable also.  One bag will contain my house and bedroom, one my kitchen, one for dirty clothes and other sundries, and the last will be a pantry for more food, wine, etc...

More tomorrow when I load it up for travel.  

What do You Carry in Your Backpack?

This year I carried the following on my travel to England:

Three Fast dry long sleeve shirts that roll up to short sleeve when needed.

Three Fast dry leg zip-off pants with zipped pockets for protection

Three Fast dry underwear

One pair of closed toe sandals. I have two pair using one while the other rests.

One sleeping map

One Rain Jacket

One Flannel Jacket

One Knee brace

Two outlet converters American to British for plugging into

Three additional outlet converters for Europe different from British

Twelve crunch bars for snacking

One head lamp (bought for me by my Camino friend Emily)

Two padlocks for use in hostels

The laptop I’m currently working on

Walking stick

Two fast dry towels

One bag weight scale

Eye Glass strap to hold glasses when I ride

One umbrella

One wool beanie

One ziplock bag full of assorted pills which needs to be cleaned out

One journal and folding file for receipts  

According to my scale it weighs in at 20 Lbs

Mother's Day 2019

LePera's Huntington Station New Years Eve 1960
Dad, Mom, Aunt Elsie, and Uncle Red

 December 2018: Endings

     And then she was no more.  December 2018 my Mom died.  We have some inkling that certain events will ultimately happen you know like people dying.  However, for me when it happened the thoughts I had over the years became a reality.  My Mother was Sixteen when I was born in 1943. After leaving the hospital, we went to my grandparents home where we would live until my Dad came home, hopefully, from WW II.  The house we came home to was build in the early ’20s and consisted of a kitchen, a bathroom,  two small bedrooms, and a parlor.  Living in the house was me, my Mom, her sister, and my grandparents.  Thus I became like another child of my grandparents with my Mom and Aunt more like sisters.  Thus we all grew up together of which I remember very little.

I know we all lived in that house together. I have pictures showing us all living together but no memory of it. Really at this point memories of that time have been on the wane.  I look at the old back and white pictures which stirs glimpses of memories around what was happening.  When I think back, I mostly find pictures stored in my memory of the house but no people until I’m about five years old.  I can see my grandfather remodeling some part like the bathroom.  However, there are no memories I can drum up of my Mom or Aunt at the time.  I know they had to be there, but they are not. Other family members come to mind but not them.

The reason I’m dwelling on this is that there are lots of relatives and friends of my grandparents that circulated through our home.  Almost every time I’d go to Florida to visit my Mom I’d make her drag out the boxes of pictures, and we’d look at them together.  I’d look at a picture unsure of who it was, and she would provide the names.  Once named I’d be able to connect to their stories in our lives.  We’d laugh or shake our heads over the memories of those stories.  That long-ago time was a world my Mom, and I shared that none of my brothers and sisters did.

 

All those people in the pictures are now all gone.  Well until December that is.  My Mom was the last of them and her generation.  Because of our combined history, her generation was also mine more then mine was.  Although I was a war baby born in 1943, I did not grow up so much with that generation as I did with a generation of immigrants coming to America for a better life.  My life was influenced by the Victorian age, the roaring ‘20s, the depression, and a war.

 

Now her stuff has all been sold off, and soon her house will be gone, there is nothing left to show she was a person of flesh and blood other than a few pictures I possess.  Pictures, furniture, clothes, jewelry and so much more are now gone.  A whirlwind came and made it all disappear, poof.  All the cliches of “she will always be with you in your hear, or she lives in your children” do not offer a person to sit with and reminisce about a life lived together.

When my Mom died, I experience the onset of profound loneliness.  There is no one left for me to say “Remember…” 

Off For Year 10

May 7, 2015: 12:57 pm

Seems near impossible that this is the tenth year in a row I will be crossing the Atlantic to travel in Europe. I managed to get to the plane even after forgetting a few things, which my friend Mark helped me out with. The plane containing me is now on the way to Philadelphia via U.S Airways. There will be a brief layover, than it will be off to Dublin. This will be my fourth time of flying into Dublin after many years of flying in to first Gatwick, then Heathrow.

So the reason I switched airports is due to cost of the flight. Flying into Dublin is about $300 cheaper. On top of that, Ireland is part of the EU and therefore my dollar goes further. This year the, per my friend Mark, the Euro conversion is 1.01 for each dollar spent. Compared to the conversion rate of 1.50 to the dollar for the pound I think I will be spending most of my time in the EU this year.

Dublin offers quite a mix of venues for your enjoyment. There are walking tours, which are fun, lots of bus tours to get you about the country and beautiful scenery at every turn. When Mark and I came here, for the first time in 2011, we stayed a The New Times a youth hostel. We then ended up at Abigale's, not sure why, another youth hostel. Where I have stayed the last few years and will again this year. The New Times was nice, but the common area is bit cramped for the number people staying there. We had to climb several flights of stairs carrying our suitcases equals not fun. However, the room we stayed in had a nice amount of space as hostels go. The luggage room was not very big and hard to get your bags in and out.

Abigale's has a much roomier common are along with an elevator. Some of the sleeping rooms are crowed, but I much prefer it to the New Times. One other hostel I have stayed in is Patty's Place. What can I say about Patty's Place, but it is a cheap flophouse. It has Small crowed sleeping rooms, mostly cold showers, and a dingy kitchen for the free breakfast. The luggage room is downstairs with bags thrown in, piled three and four high. However, you can save nine Euro because you get a free bus ride to the airport. Patty's is also a tour bus company and all their tours leave from the flophouse. Last year my daughter and I stayed a several other Patty's places, having taken their bus tour, and found them quite acceptable. You would think the one in Dublin would kept up a bit better.

Getting about Dublin is very easy with walking being the best way to get a flavor for the city. There are double decker, on and off tour buses, which are fun to get the lay of the land. Temple Bar is row after row of pubs all with live music and dancing. Its streets are always packed and the mood is lively. There are quite a few over prices restaurants offering "traditional Irish food." A few blocks away you can find the same variety of food, but at less cost. I do spent money on cooking my own basic food as each hostel has a kitchen and usually pots, pans etc. to get the job done.

I was surprised to find myself, again, apprehensive about taking this trip. However, it was different from previous year's apprehensiveness. I cannot put my finger on it, but just felt like I should not go. Not excited at all, but cannot say I have been very excited in previous years. I purchased the ticket rather quickly this year and will not purchase so early again. That is if there is an again. If there is an again it will no longer be for months on end as has been the case. I will be going back to 3 to 4 week trips to Europe if possible. Will have to see how this tour thing works out. I think part of my reluctances this year to travel alone to Ireland. It seems strange not to have my daughter and friend Cassie to hang with. Cassie is in Thailand this year and my daughter will join me in England late in June.

I am getting use to a new Pad I have purchased for this trip. It is a pound lighter them my Acer Netbook that I have used for years. I was a bit apprehensive at first, but I am getting used to it. Last night I watched a Netflix movie on it and was quite pleased at its performance. Also SKYPED and for the first time no loss of signal, sound or picture. Getting use to touch screen, I keep cleaning it OCD about fingerprints, which works grand.

 

 

May 9, 2015: 9:30 am Dublin, 1:30 am Arizona

Nice to have a room full of adults this go around. Several couples from France are sharing the dorm room with me. Spend yesterday inside mostly due to rain and wind. It was O.K. it gave me time to catch up on sleep lost in the flight. Usually I am able to sleep on the plane, but this time no so much this time. So took a nap, SKYPED with Mark, did some emails and a little reading. I have decided to spend another night here and take a couple of day tours I have not done before. Today I will tour the Guinness brewery and maybe the Old Jameson Whiskey distillery, then going to book a Day tour to Hill of Tara. I usually do not do the tourist thing, but what the heck.

I walking to the brewery and spy a small sign on a light post explaining that the church on the other side of the fence has a long connection to the Camino de Santiago. Intrigued I back track to the front of the church and there is a sign indicating a Camion office. Inside I find three volunteers staffing the office. We have a nice chat and share some stories. One of the people I talk to is from the U.S. but has lived in Ireland for 15 years. I ask to see the church and use the bathroom.

Inside there are several plaques talking about the church's connection to the Camino. It seems that has been a starting placer for Irish Pilgrims since medieval times. There was once a Gate in the wall protecting Dublin called the St James gate through which the pilgrims left the city, then heading to the docks for the ship that would take them Spain. So here, I was in Dublin for the fourth time connected to the Camino. Was this a sign?

The woman from the U.S. shows me where the bathroom is and it takes me a moment to understand just were it was. The church was built in 1844 an most not have had indoor plumbing. So they added a bathroom outside up against the church wall. One would wonder if it was once an outhouse. I purchase a Camino passport and am told that I can get my first stamp at the beginning of the Guinness tour. This is because part of the factory now stands on the spot where the St. James gate use to be.

I purchase my ticket then head over to the information desk where low and behold I receive my stamp and a "Buen Camino" from the follow behind the desk. The tour is self-guided and full of bells and whistles. I find the beams studded with rivets and ceramic bricks the most interesting. There are several restaurants with overpriced food. The tour goes up and up until you reach, yet another restaurant perched on top of the factory. By now, it is very crowed to the point it is almost impossible to get in to it, so I turn around and head out. I do not get my pint of free beer, but just can deal with the crowd.

May 10, 2013

Get up early and head over to Suffolk St to catch the Irish Day Tour bus. I have made the reservation on line at their web site. The tour's name is the Celtic Boyne Valley Tour and cost 35.00 euro. It is a small 18-seat bus with almost every seat filled. We are going to see The Hill fo Tara, Trim Castle, Monasterboice, and Loughcrew Passage Tomb. A group of young women in the back eight seats chat away on the ride to our first stop; The Hill of Tara.

The driver, Jamie, tells us that since we have the small bus we will be taking the scenic route rather than the motorways. These roads are narrow and not well kept up. For the remainder of the trip we are bounce and jostle around and ever glad to get out for a bit. It seems that we spend more time on the bus then at any of the stops. I get to be part of the group and we chat, walk, and eat together. The last stop is a church that has the mummified head of a Saint in it. It is a windy, cold day and towards the end, it begins to rain. Safely back in Dublin it is time to say good-bye to my traveling companions and get a little diner before turning in.

 

May 13, 2015

On the 11^th, I am surprised by an email for an old friend I have not heard from in years, at least 15. It is a dark, windy day and I am spending time arranging to leave Dublin for a couple of days. I will head to Galway for two days then back to Dublin when it will be time to leave for Salisbury. So far, the trip has been relaxing and fun especially meeting new people. I sat with two woman taking about traveling the world. Each had visited over 60 countries, which gave a sad feeling that I have visited so few. I cannot count the number of times I have said, "I have no interest in going there." However, pressed there is no valid reason for why? I am not a world traveler compared to these women and am forced to rethink why I stick to the same countries repeatedly.

Wander around town today visiting museums and stores. Back in the hostel, it is the noisiest I have ever experienced here. There is a group of Jr highers that I think are from Italy. Their caretakers are almost never in view allowing this group to run amuck. An older Russian youth group acts no better and with the addition of alcohol are even worse. I have stayed here four years in a row and have not experience this lever of rudeness, loudness, and drunkenness. I will think long and hard about staying here again in the coming years.

May 15, 2015 Dublin

I am so tired to rude, loud people. I was in an eight-bed room with one other person last night. Around 11 pm, five young people for France come in turn on the light, bang things around set up their beds and leave. Then at 2 am them come back and start again. I say "quite please" and they laugh. Not a good thing to do at 2 am. I get out of bed and they stop laughing and all of a sudden find a way to do things quietly. It was nice this morning sitting in the day room at 7 am and it was quiet until around eight then yelling, as if the person they are talking to is sitting on the other side of Dublin. I watch a guy in his late 40's hitting on every young girl he can get to pay attention to him. There is a limited amount of coffee so instead of a cup this guy fills up a cereal bowl with coffee to drink. People eat and leave their dishes on the table rather them put them on the rack then have to pass on way out. I have just not experienced this kind of behavior in prior years.

I will be leaving in about an hour to go to the bus station and head to Galway. We will see what awaits me there.

May 20, 2015 Train to Salisbury from Dublin

Five days since last post see if I can remember the highlights. Nice bus ride to Galway, which only cost 8 pounds one-way. Comfortable seats along with WiFi and a plug for your device. After arriving, I headed toward the hostel booked on line. You have to love google Map Street View that I used to virtually walk to the hostel. Now here I followed the route right up to the front door of the hostel. My reservation was there and had no problem checking in. I was assigned to room four that was a roomy 8-bed dorm. After choosing my bunk and "unpacking" which was removing my computer from my backpack. There was fellow in bed, not unusual, in hostels at Noon. When out for some lunch then a walk around town. Weather cloudy, and cool with a bit of wind. The weather turned to drizzle, then to rain, then to drizzle etc. I headed back to the hostel and hunker down at a table next to one of two outlets in the room.

I was quiet and seemed to be very few people staying there. Things started to get strange when I noticed that the staff had a dorm also and had the door to it open. There was a guy in the day room who held on to the remote and kept switching channels. Behind me was the kitchen with a door leading to a small courtyard. While responding to emails and Facebook I smelled cigarette smoke, which caused me to look around the room. Finally I figured out people were going out in the courtyard and smoking right next to the open kitchen door. This happened rather regularly while I was sitting there.

May 22, 2015 Salisbury

May 25, 2015 Salisbury

Still here in Salisbury having spent the weekend "working" at the Festival. Volunteering at times is a bit frustrating due to having to watch people running around acting more important than they really need to. One person needs to let everyone know at every event what her title is as opposed to just giving her name and getting on with the useless information she is about to impart. The problem being that those in charge seem to think that their volunteers are bumbling fools who just would not know how to conduct themselves without a good deal of micromanagement. The thing that really causes biting of the tough and smiling falsely is when one of the staff tells me what to do when I am already doing it. A few "staff" attempting to outdo each other in that. But, for the most part it is fun dealing with the throngs before and during an event. I have met several people with whom I have quite a laugh when they say, "You're not British" to which I usually answer, "I'm not" acting very surprised "how could you tell?" Great fun that. I'll be back at it again today at 4 pm then off until next Friday. I'm thinking of taking a ride somewhere returning in time to go to work.

So thoughts:

"Getting Old" whatever that means! I continue to be told by some that I am getting old if reference to some statement I have made. Statement "My hand hurts!" Response "You're getting old!" Statement "My knee hurts!" Response "You're getting old!" Statement "I've farted!" Response "You're getting old!" Statement "I'm Horney!" Response "You're getting old!" And, on and on as if all of a sudden any ailment mentioned after a certain age. So at some point the statement "my knee Hurts!" turns from "Did you hit it on something?" to "you're getting old!" There seems there is this magical turning point that at a certain age it becomes one's age that causes a problem rather then and event. There is also some responses that I find silly such as my Doctor said, "You're really heathy and active for someone your age." What the f… is that? So at my age what is it that I'm supposed to be doing or I should say not doing! I belonged; yes, I admitted it, to eHarmony for a bit. So many of the women who wrote to me indicated that they were impressed with how active I was at MY AGE! Well f… where is my couch, T.V., and wheelchair.

I was watching myself for a few days, must be because I am old, and found myself acting old. Well what the hell does that mean and why did I deem myself such. What I found was my hesitating but for getting up from a chair, holding on to the table as I got up helping with my arms as if my legs could not manage by themselves, or holding on to the handrail as I climbed or dissented stairs. I also noticed that I was walking slightly more bent over the normal. My posture has always sucked. I thought to myself what the hell are you doing? I take notice; look around as if waking from a nap, and answer I don't know in much surprise. I can get up for a chair just fine, negotiate stair without help, and am quite capable of standing up as usual. Maybe I was "getting old." …not!

 

The Best of George Carlin: Exposing our government and fall of humanity ...

A NEW ADVENTURE

PLEASE CHECK OUT THE FOLLOWING LINK:

www.efcst.com/1697597TU

Where There is a Will There is a Way….

Saturday, June 14, 2014, 12:47 PM England, 9:47 PM France

Starting with yesterday afternoon after arriving at Holiday Inn Express at Stanstead and checking in I start to use their “free Wi-Fi.”   The deal is the free Wi-Fi is for 15 minutes then it gives you an option to purchase Wi-Fi for an hour or day.  I’d call that “bait and switch” which is illegal in the U.S.  Mark and I SKYPED for a while having to reconnect every 15 minutes.   This did not happen in Winchester where the wifu worked without asking you to buy time.  So I when down to the front desk and was told “that’s the way we do it here.”   I smiled and when to dinner which was a decent meal of salad, all most salads here look like they when out back and picked some weeds, a vegetable loaf, and new potatoes with a nice glass of white wine.  I had earlier walked over to the convenience store and picked up a few things including my own bottle of wine.   After dinner I when back to my room and relaxed working on a section of my blog that has become quite difficult to write.  I have to get up at 4 AM tomorrow in order to catch my Ryanair flight.  Good Night.

A free breakfast is included in your stay which consisted of cold cereal, coffee, orange juice, and toast.  You basic motel breakfast which also offers some other snacky foods, cheese and fruit.  Off to the airport which is packed.  There must be a couple of hundred flights going out around this time.  Zipping through inspection after my gate is called I’m the first to arrive.  Now getting on a Ryanair flight is just a tad different from say one of our low cost airlines.  There are two queues, that what we call lines, one is for priority boarding and one is for plain Villella boarding.  You get priority boarding when you reserve a seat which cost’s either and extra five or ten pounds depending on where you sit.  I want to get on the plane first and get off the plane first and have gotten quit good at it.  I’m usually the first in the priority line so I get to walk out to the airplane and board.  Yes I said walk out and clime up the either the stairs that the plane has built in or ones that roll up.

My seat is the first one by the door and I settle in.  Everything on Ryanair cost extra so I have my own snacks and water.  They sell Ryanair lottery cards and supposedly all the money collected goes to children’s charities.  I have purchased them a couple of time just for kicks as they are really cheap.  The flight is nice I guess because I slept most of the way to Bordeaux.  Now the fun starts!  There is two ways to get from the airport to the Gare, train station.  One costs 6 euro and takes 30 minutes, the other costs 1.40 euro and can take 60 minutes.  However, the 6 euro bus only runs every hour.  At the time I arrived the 60 minute bus would get me to the station first.  I jump on and off we go, so far so good.  There are kiosks in the station that you can buy your ticket from or wait on the long, long line to buy them from a human who may speak some English.

However, credit cards in Europe have chips in them so you only have to put the card in a little bit instead of swiping it.  These machines only take those credit cards so I have to get on the long, long like.  Upon reaching my agent I request to go to St Jean Pied de Port.  He tippy taps on his computer and says the famous “Es No Posseble” followed by “we are on strike.  Not today nor tomorrow.  “Monday” I quary?  He shrugs his shoulders and I walk away.  My little brain goes into overdrive and I get back on line to talk to another agent.  But this time I ask for a ticket to Bayonne where you change to get to St. Jean’s.  She says nothing about a strike but tells me both trains to Bayonne are booked solid.  I’m thinking they must be loaded with Pilgrims however, I’m in correct.  They are loaded due to the strike with passages headed to the beach for the weekend.

O.K. now what I keep thinking.  I purchase a map of France to see if there are other towns I can get a train to.  BUS jumps into my head let’s see where the terminal is.  While I’m thinking about the bus I keep thinking if I can just find out what platform the train will be stopping at I’ll just jump on and pay the conductor.   Finally I find a like-minded attendant who tells me the train will arrive on platform 2.   I arrive to find the platform packed with people; I wait.  The train pulls in and it already has people standing for the ride.  Everyone begins to climb into the train I’m last to push in standing on the steps waiting for the door to close.  This is a ten car train which is packed from one end to the other like one of those trains you see in films about India.  I expect people to start climbing on the roof.

The train is not moving, people are sweating, I back up a bit to get a little air.  There is an announcement in French that, of course, I do not understand. People start getting off the train and I hear one woman say they have added another train.  We get off and walk back to the next train which is actually attached to this on making it now a 20 car train.  I get in find a seat and we are off Bayonne.  Es not imposseble!  There are times we go around bends in the track and I can see the front of the train that is how long we are.  We arrive in Bayonne at the ticket window I’m sold a bus ticket to St Jean which will leave at 18:00 arrive at St Jean 19:30.  I have two hours to burn so I walk about, have a biere and am able to get on the internet.  The bus comes and is full this time with mostly Pilgrims.  I am sitting next to a young couple who are from Switzerland.  They are walking the Camino for the first time.  We chat a bit as we ride, meanwhile the seat behind us, the backseat of the bus is filled with a group of young boys.  They proceed to talk in loud voices for the whole 1 ½ hours.

At St. Jean I head to the Pilgrim office to get my Credencial del Peregrino.  The office is packed at 7 PM and I am surprised to find it still open.  I’m told that all Albergues are full except one so off I go.  I was thinking about heading to the campground that I stayed at the last time and sleeping under the stars, however the weather is not looking promising.  So I book a two day stay for 24 Euro and have dinner of 12.  Don’t ever tell me “Es no posseble” as that become the forces to prove them wrong.  Time and time again I’m told in Europe it can’t be done and I find a way to do it.  I want to go back to the person and teach them it is “Posseble”  Good Night!  Love you!

A day at the office...

Saturday, May 24, 2014, 2:19 AM Arizona, 10:19 AM Salisbury

I hate going to the loo and finishing my business only to fine that the TP dispenser is EMPTY, bit of a problem isn't it?  What to do?  Ask the guy next door, but they are empty, shuffle out in the altogether hoping you can make it to the next stall before someone comes in?  Oh well here goes!  Whew made it!  This happened in France once of course that was a learning experience wasn't it.  You see most campgrounds if France don’t supply TP so learned that one pretty quick.  Have to be more careful with my expectations don’t I?  Those expectations will get you every now and then won’t they?  A friend once sent me an article on expectations and how they can screw up relationships.  Still have it somewhere in my collection of papers I look at every now and then thinking I need to do something with that.

Yesterday was my first day of “work” for the Festival office.  I’m a bit nervous wanting to make a good impression and all that.  I show up 1/2 hour early in order to watch the person currently manning the desk.  Sat with her about 10 minutes and she says “Well I’m off then” and off she goes.  My anxiety mounts as I await the first phone call; I’m answering phone and greeting people as they come in.   First phone call I almost drop the phone picking it up, but make it through transferring and all; bit more confident now.  I’m chatting with the lady across the aisle who is one of two who take reservations and payments for the different events.  “You helped us last year didn't you?” she asks.  “Yes actually I've been a Stewart for the past three years.”  “You were with another man from America right, the one who was making a fuss at one of the events?”  She goes on in great detail on this miner event in life.  “Don’t remember the fuss” says I. “Have you ever been to the U.S.?” I ask.  We talk about Flagstaff for a bit and where she and her husband stayed.

Phone rings for the second time and deftly pick it up and answer.   We have this long thing that needs to be said upon answering.  “Ageas Salisbury International Arts Festival, how may I help you?”  One lady say’s to me “That’s quite a mouthful isn't it?”  I get through the next three phone calls and am feeling really confident until… in walks an older lady whom I greet with a smiling “hello may I help you?”  What I hear is something about the peaks having snow on them.  I smile as I think what fucking peaks there aren't any peaks around Salisbury?  She looks at me expectantly as my mind is now stuck on the peaks thing and I don’t know what to say.  Helen, the general manage pops out and says to me “She wants to know about Peter Snow” and directs to her to the ticket lady.  I’m sitting there with a dumb ass smile on my face.  Shit I can understand English!  Actually I think I was distracted by the wig hat on her head which she had pulled down over her ears; bit unnatural that. 

I’m given a task cutting up paper badges one at a time.  The young lady who has given me the task asks if I need any help.  I smile “I think I got this.”  Here I am spending the day answering phones and cutting up paper when Jane, head of the volunteers, comes out apologizing for not coming out sooner.  We discuss my offer to work more shifts at the opening event as they are short staffed.  As we talk she is watching me cut up badges.  I begin to wonder if there is something wrong with my little rhythm.   I smile, which I do a lot in England, France and Spain.  It’s a little trick I learned, but most people probably think “Poor fellow is a bit daft” then smile back and go about their business.   Anna comes out to relieve the lady at the ticket station.  I met Anna the first time I went to the Festival nine years ago.

I saw the line people stretching down the street and stopped to ask what was going on.  The fellow I asked explained that it was a big party due to it being the closing night of the Festival.  So I ride up to the ticket table and was greeted by Anna’s beautiful smile.  I would have bought anything she was selling under the spell of that smile.  I looked forward to seeing that smile every year since.  She is charge of the whole ticking selling business and is concentrating on making sure all goes well.  There is another person manning the ticket table and her name is Poppy.  She and I talk for a bit about American and her wish to get over there.  My time is up I made it through didn't seem to do to bad a job.  All the little badges are hopefully cut to order.  I mention to Anna that her youngest, who is now eight wasn't born when we first met, and her oldest was four.  We have a chat about how thing have changed and how they are out and about no longer needing a sitter to watch them.

It’s been a good day and what has this to do with expectations you might ask.  Only that when you let go of them wonderful things can happen.