When I finished my college degree and before starting grad school, I took a semester off to “see the world!” I was 22, ignorant of many things, but
I knew enough to want to experience more.
After saving my money from a summer of hot hard work in the alfalfa
fields of the San Joaquin Valley doing mosquito control, I set off on a Greyhound
bus to cross the country to New York… from where I found the cheapest way to
Europe - on “Icelandic Flugfélag” (they were older planes and probabily the slowest on earth).
Outwardly I attempted to project the image of Mr. Cool but inside I was
excited, fearful, and delirious to see everything new. So I plunked down in Glasgow Scotland (the
closest point of landing) and there I was.
Everybody talked with a form of English that I struggled to understand, the money was confusing, and I had to start living by my wits. ( Is a quid the same as a pound? How many pence make a shilling )
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| Often I ended up walking as I waited to get my rides |
Throughout Europe, a system of youth hotels called "youth hostels" exists in most cities and many smaller towns.
Here a traveller like me can find the company of fellow travelers from many lands, a dormitory bed, and an
opportunity to share stories and advice, for a very cheap price. Many ‘hostellers’ travel with someone for a
few days and then branch off as destinations change. However hitchhiking with a friend
can be difficult because many rides will take only one person but not two. In most hostels it is expected that each
person do a small job each day to help maintain the place– help sweep a room,
fold a few blankets… We were also required to leave the hostel grounds by early morning - even if we stayed a few days.
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| A typical hostel |
Each 'moving day' the adventure begins anew when I found my way (using
city transit or walked ) to the edge of town and found the open road – there I stand with my thumb in the air.
Europeans were very good at stopping...it was traditional for young people to travel in this manner. In England the “lorry” drivers
always seemed to enjoy having someone new to talk to. They frequently insisted on paying for a pastry and coffee or even a meal. ( In France they ordered "deux café et cognac" when we stopped). A
sequence of rides were often required to reach my next destination.... some days were easy others not... I had a Hostel
guidebook with addresses of all of the hostels – and it became a matter of asking a
lot for questions, walking or using public transit to get where I was going… sounds
daunting – but it was usually no big deal … Once I stowed my 35 pound army surplus backpack containing all my worldly belongings, my newest hostel friends and I would
set off to see the sights. Perhaps I would
stay in a location for 2-4 days depending on the city.
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| Every hostel has a "common room" where people from many lands gather each evening to share adventures and advice... |
(You can explore the vast Hostel website catalogue here – they are called "youth
hostels" – but they are open to “former youth” too http://www.hiusa.org/hostels/international-hostels They exist throughout the US. There are several in the Bay Area. Also beware there are many places that call themselves "hostels" not associated with the "international youth hostels".
Traveling in this manner, there are everyday challenges, adventures, and surprises – which
of course changed as I went from country to country – language to language.
I will plan to take a couple of blogs to tell you about a
few of my many adventures. This week I
can only tell you a few ‘experiences ’ that pop into my mind.
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| London bridge across the Thames |
London was a little formidable for a kid like me from the San Joaquin Valley – just from its size
alone. Finally, after a 'challenging day', I reached
the hostel to finds a “Full” sign – I was told that I could reserve a spot for
the next few nights – just not that night.
Two ‘blokes’ that I met were in the same spot - we decided– “No problem” – “we will sleep next
door in the Laundromat”. After fish and chips and a pint – late evening
we spread out on the wide empty couch seats in the shop and happily wen’t to sleep…
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| Big Ben |
Everything was fine, until
a short while later when I woke from a tapping on my foot - and there was the
tallest British “bobby’ with the tallest black hat I had ever seen – He looked
at our papers and asked a few questions – and then he said we were OK – "this was his beat and he would keep an eye on us – but we had to be out by 5:30
in the morning." After that I slept soundly.
Later that day my friend and I found the tower or London where the
Queens jewels are stored – One of those guards with a red jacket and a huge bear
skin hat was guarding the door – He was involved with tourists and my friend and I marched
right in the door, only to realize that somehow we had entered the exit…and walked right
in… Not many can say they broke into the Tower of London… London was filled with endless wonders - so
many sights and friendly people. The
hostel was filled every night and noisy conversation went late.
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| Walking through a central European roadway - sometimes there were few cars... |
I travelled across Belgium, France, Germany… so many sights,
people, and adventures. One morning I
got a ride in Germany from an ex- Nazi – an Uber lieutenant who assured me (as
many Germans did) they "only fought on the eastern front against Russia" – “certainly
not against the Americans”… for lunch he took me to his old university -
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| Heidelberg... |
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| View from the hills of Heidelberg |
Heidelberg – where we feasted on roast
chicken (Gebackenes Huhn), a salad, great bread and a nice white wine…Quite a feast for a poor back packer like me! After showing me the campus, we drove on. Shortly we left the main road and drove to a small cemetery where we
planted moss on the grave of his father (a Colonel) who had been killed in the war… his
stone said “Alles fur Deutschland” (everything for Germany)… it was a strange
memorable day…His English was about as bad as my German but we managed to
communicate somehow.
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| Yugoslav village home |
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Yugoslav coast
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So many images in my head, memories and adventures…
My arrival into Greece involved a train rides across then
communist Yugoslavia– European trains don't have rows of seats but compartments
for 8 people – 4 people facing 4… My companions was very friendly! – people
brought baskets of bread, sausage, cheese, fruit to share – wine, home made plum brandy – there were Yugoslavs, Greeks, Germans, and
me… Such fun…
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| Campaign graffiti in Greece |
When I arrived in Thessaloniki the language barrier was somewhat a
challenge –I was confronted with the Greek alphabet! I had the name of the hostel and somehow found it and checked in –
and decided to stroll through the city – I wisely thought that I had better write down the name of the street where
my hostel has located – but the name was very long, and hard to write, so I thought I would be OK
is I wrote down just the first part: “δρόμος”…After a good long “look around
the city” I decided I had better head back to the hostel – and I started
looking for my street – What luck – the very first street I came to started
with "δρόμος". Whoops the cross street
also has "δρόμος" and the next street….
Only later did I discover that "δρόμος" means “street”. I was very lucky to find my way home that
night…
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| Mediterranean village street |
More next week...
