Visiting Christopher in Spain and traveling thru Europe

Hello all, Yes, this is me (crsmall) writing to you from an internet cafe in London under my stealth pen name Christopher Smith (aka csdaddio).I had to create a Google email account because I couldn't access our home email account without the changed password, and I didn't think waking Janet up during the middle of the night would be a good thing!So here is an account of the past three days....what an adventure, to say the least.

Saturday, April 4, 2009 (Overseas travel day)My journey started off with a bang when the departing flight out of OKC was over an hour late.Fortunately, I left plenty of time for connection in Dulles airport and made my flight to London Heathrow (most others didn't). I met a young man named George from Scotland on the plane. He received his college degree a couple of years ago, worked a couple of years, and then decided to travel around the world for a year or so. He had been to Australia, California, NYC, and other places. He met a young lass in California, and I think he wants to return there ASAP!

Sunday, April 5, 2009 (London Day 1)Well, I got off the plane in London and walked through this maze of halls to get through customs. I asked one of the security guards where I could exchange dollars for pounds, and he replied "Upstairs, along with restrooms, etc. We have those too!". Needless to say, I think he was offended by my ignorant question!Getting euros out of the ATM machine was an experience. I didn't know which way to enter my card (I was afraid it would eat it if I inserted it the wrong way), but with a kind lady's help, I was able to get through it ok.Next was the subway (aka the "Tube"). What an experience in London! After finding the right route, buying my ticket, and hopping on before it left me, I met a very interesting gentleman named Malcolm on the train. He travels the world working as a casino dealer, and just got back in London after working in Bangkok for a few months. (He all but offered me a place to stay, but I thought I would go it alone in London for the first time.)So on to the hotel I went, getting off at Earl's Court station. When I tried to validate my ticket through the exit turnstile, it didn't work. Alas, after the agent checked the time and date, he let me through. Just like downtown NYC, when I came out on the street at 7am in the morning, there weren't very many people around! But I found a person who helped me find Barkston street, and withina block or two, I went around the corner and found my hotel for the next two days.Now I want you to get the picture here - it was now 7:30am on Sunday morning London time, I had been up since 8am CT the morning before, and I was ready to at least take a shower, if not a short nap before I began my sightseeing. But a good-priced hotel is usually full in London, and this one was no exception. So I left my luggage in a locked room, put some essentials in a shoulder bag, and let the clerk know I would be back at 2pm to claim my room. I had already (quickly) learned there are generally no public restrooms in London, so I used the downstairs one at the hotel. And the travel books are right, "toilets" are very strange and interesting experiences in Europe - this one was no exception. But I managed ok, and headed for the streets.London wakes up slowly, much like any other city of 10 million people. It reminds me of NYC...littered streets, lots of little shops and restaurants, and people like ants. No working people to speak of out on Sunday morning, so I wandered around for a little while and decided to grab something to eat before heading to the museums. McD's looked safe, so I grabbed a bagel, egg, and cheese sandwich and a bottled water. I asked for just a water (thinking I would get a courtesy cup), but got a 1.30 pound bottle of water. Rick Steve's had warned me about water slamming in Europe, and he was right.....I went and purchased an off-peak day pass on the Tube (saves a bunch of money), and headed off to Trafalgar Square.No one hardly talks on the subway, it is so old and noisy you have to almost shout to converse!Once I exited at Leicester (pronounced Lester Square), I passed by one of the older churches in the downtown area.I believe it was an Episcopalian (sp?). There were holding a passover service on the street, and asked us (i.e. the tourists) to join them. They handed us a hymn sheet, and we joined in singing hymns with the brass quintet. It was quite an unusual experience...Once the outside portion was over, I headed off to the National Gallery, one of the largest museums in the world. I was especially interested in the impressionist collection of paintings by Manet and Monet. They had one room devoted to them, but I must say, the impressionistic collection we saw at the museum in Ft. Worth was much larger and world-class....However, this museum was huge with over 100 rooms, and by room I mean the size of a small concert hall, with 100+ meter ceilings! And, as most of Europe is known for, there was painting after painting with partially (if not fully nude) women - only an occasional man!Well, I enjoyed the National Gallery very much, but I when I looked at my watch, I realized it was almost time for the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace. I asked for directions from a museum hostess, and headed through the arches toward the palace. I had to make haste to get there by 11:30am, and arrived in a sweat from walking a couple of kilometers (1.2 miles or so) at break-neck pace. And I get there on time only to find out they are still on winter schedule, and will only change the guard every other day, and Sunday was their day off! There was still a crowd there however, probably ignorant like me, thinking it would still happen, but just running late....Now let me stop here and make a few editorial comments. Being up close in that crowd next to the palace fence, I made a few quick observations. First, I realize that water is precious with over 10 million people in the city, but will you please take a bath on occasion! (I wanted to hand out business cards that said "Wash Me!" on them, but I refrained.) Second, I realized where all the cigarettes went when we drove them out of the U.S. by heavily taxing them - to London and the rest of Europe! Third, I realized I was very alone in this big city when everyone around me was speaking in a different language other than English......Yes, I started feeling lonely that afternoon....I miss you Janet, Chris, and Ryan!I realized I would have to return on Monday to see the changing of the guard......So now it was around noon, and I made the walk back to Trafalgar Square (yes, another 2 kilometers, my friend).I learned quickly on the streets surrounding the square that you should generally use the crosswalks with the buttons and green "Walk" signs to cross the street. Otherwise, you may get hit by a cab or tour bus flying around the corner!I stopped by the National Portrait Gallery on the way back to the Tube station. It has mostly English people in it, so I only knew a few of the subjects in the portraits. Overall, the museum was so-so, but at the right price (free), it was hard to complain. And it had the one thing that all tourists longingly look for later in the day, a public restroom!It was getting on in the afternoon, and I decided to grab a quick lunch near the subway station.I decided to go cheap and familiar, and save the local fair for dinner that evening.I grabbed the 1.99 pound special at Subway, and met the nicest young lady from Ethiopia, who hadleft her impoverished family to come to London for a better life. She was doing well, so I was thankful to hear that.I headed back to the hotel (takes about 30 minutes total travel time to get most places on the Tube), and checked in around 2:30pm. The room is small, probably 50 sq feet including the bed. Reminded of a room on the cruise ship! But clean, thankfully. Probably hundreds of year old, and had been repainted dozens of times....Well, by now, I am pretty wired, so I decided that I would make an attempt to see Wimbledon while I was here. I jumped on the subway, headed for the west districts, and found out that the Tube doesn't necessarily run to all outlying stations on Sundays. So I ended up walking about 2km through the Wimbledon community (very posh) w/ townhouses, even a few houses, lots of Mercedes and Audis. Past Wimbledon Park and arrived at the stadium facility, only to find out it is restricted to visitors in tour groups, etc. Well, that wasn't going to stop me, not this determined American. So I snuck in the tour gate and up the first level of stairs, past a security guard who was talking to a (registered) guest, and through the tunnel into Stadium Court #1. There was no net posts and net, just beautiful green manicured grass, as the spring was beginning to green it up and begin its growth for the tournament coming up. I stood for a few moments and savored being all alone on Stadium Court #1, and then decided to make haste and skeedaddle out of there. And just in time no less. The security guard saw me coming out on the low level and yelled at me, but I said, "You can't expect me to come all the way from America and not see court #1 can you?" He smiled and said, "Just remember, I didn't see you...so go away now before I do!" And so the walk back (yes, another 2km) to the first running subway station was one of triumph that day, for I saw Wimbledon, and every time I see court #1 on the tv, I will remember being there…Riding back on the subway, I realized something about European women - makeup must be expensive over here, but it isn't used much! I think I have begun to understand how appearance-focused we are in America. Most everyone wears lots of dark colors here, and not much attention is given to dress and fashion. It just doesn't seem as important. I think people are concentrating more on survival than anything - that's my impression.....So I traveled back to the Barkston Gardens Hotel on the Tube (probably took an hour), and decided it was time to get some sleep.I slept about 5 hours and woke up at 10:30pm, couldn't get back to sleep, so I read tour books and watched old movies and some local British tv for a few hours. I finally fell back asleep at 2am or so, and slept about 8 hours until 10:15am the next morning.

Monday, April 6, 2009 (London Day 2)
(That's a lot of sleep for an old-timer like me.) But when I looked at the clock, I realized I only had a little over an hour to get ready and travel back to Buckingham Palace for the changing of the guard! I shaved, took a much-needed shower (even though I knew I would smell different than everyone else in the crowd...), and headed to Earl's Court station. It was Monday, so guess what, people were back to work, and the line was long to buy a special type of ticket. But I had no choice, so I waited patiently, bought my day pass again (5.80 pounds - only 2 pounds more than a single ticket in some cases), and headed for Leicester Square. I got off the subway and began a half-walk, half-run to the palace grounds. It was a happening. The police had everything roped off, and I couldn't get within a block or so from the front of the palace. So, once again, I had to be creative. I snuck across the street with a few other rowdy youth and disappeared into the crowd before the police security could stop us. I made my way to within a few hundred feet of the gates right when the band was playing and ceremony began. What an experience!The ceremony lasted for almost an hour, and then the glorious walk back (another 2km) to Trafalgar Square. By then, let me tell you, the walking was getting old. I realize how spoiled we are in America driving our cars right up to the front of stores and other addresses and parking next to them....Next on the agenda for Monday was the bus tour. I purchased a ticket at the first stop and jumped on board. I quickly realized that riding up top in the open provided better view but numb fingers and toes, despite the unusually nice warm weather London has had this week (low 60s F). After an hour or so, I jumped off and had lunch at a local sandwich establishment, Pret Manger. Chicken club, chips (strange ones), and honey popcorn for dessert. Bottled water, of course. The sandwich was ok, but there must be a mayonnaise glut currently in the country, because they tried to use up a lot of it on just my sandwich! One other sordid detail - I chompled down on a popcorn kernel and broke part of one of my teeth off! Fortunately, I am having no lingering pain. The dentist will be glad to see me when I get home, that's for sure....The bus tour provided live English-speaking tour guides on the main tour, and over the next 4 hours, I enjoyed both of them weave lots of facts, history, British humor, and even some gossip into a very entertaining experience.At one point in the tour, we had to divert our normal route because of demonstrations going on during the G20 summit that were blocking the road. One thing I noticed about British televison, it is a lot more responsible that American tv. Yes, they have some drama shows, and some silly British comedy programs, but their 4-5 channels last night were mostly devoted to political news and documentaries about their people, both locally and globally across the world. I found the news refreshing, as they reported tax collection harassment within the government and confronted the heads of state about it during an interview.

Tuesday, April 7, 2009 (Travel day to San Sebastian)So it's Tuesday morning now. I will be flying to Bilbao, Spain, at 4:40pm today from Heathrow with my final destination (by bus) to meet Christopher in San Sebastian tonight. I hope you have enjoyed my letter. I think the only thing I can say this morning to sum up my experience in London is, "I've enjoyed the visit, but it sure is great to be an American!".Love you all, Chris
……..So I took a more leisurely morning getting ready to fly to Spain. I checked out of the hotel around 10am, went and found a fruit market, and picked up some fruit and bottled water. Funny thing, the market had mini cans of Pringles potato chips, and since I had a couple of extra pounds, I bought a couple of cans, mostly I think as a way of hanging on to something American while I was away! I then found the internet café where I wrote my London blog. I purchased a one-way ticket on the Tube at the Earl’s Court station and jumped on the subway one last time to Heathrow airport. I got there in plenty of time and checked in at the Iberia/ClickAir reservation counter and received my boarding pass. I ate another Pret Manger chicken sandwich (the one with too much thick mayonnaise!) and a few of my precious Pringles for lunch. I used an internet café (1 euro for 10 minutes) to check my email. And I bought a book to read while we would be traveling on the trains through Europe. Heathrow was another one of those European ant farms…people everywhere! .I met a very nice gentleman names Thomas Mark during my wait to board the plane. He just received his doctorate in political science at London Oxford, originally from Toronto, and he was returning to Ontario to teach.
I was amazed at the security at Heathrow – carry-on baggage check and recheck at numerous checkpoints. The plane left on schedule, and I immediately noticed the model-like stewardesses serving the passengers. This was my first indication that Spain was very much different than Mexico, and I would get off the plane a little over two hours later to find a very modern airport and city (Bilbao). Now on the plane, I met a very interesting gentleman named Keenan. Keenan had been living in London for a couple of years now, but prior to that had lived in Barcelona for approx. 5 years working as an English teacher and translator for the U.S. military. When he ordered a small bottle of Sangria on the plane (costing 5 euros), I realized he was very comfortable with the food and culture of Spain. I disembarked the plane at around 7:40pm CET time, and realized I only had about 10 minutes to catch the Transporte Peza bus to San Sebastian.
With Keenan’s help, and my poor Spanish, I learned from one of the airport security guards where the bus was departing from. I hustled out to meet it, only to find that they would not accept my credit card (more typical than not in Europe, despite what the tourism guides tell you!). I hadn’t exchanged any U.S. currency for euros yet, because the exchange rate was low at Heathrow airport. So I had to run back inside the terminal to find an ATM, only to see the 7:50pm bus to San Sebastian driving away. A very sad and lonely feeling came over me, but I refocused and went back in the terminal to find the ATM. After a few not-so-successful exchanges with Spanish-only-speaking staff, I found the ATM and successfully withdrew 200 euros. (This would last me the rest of trip, believe it or not – as I used the
credit card for hotels and occasionally in restaurants when allowed.) The bad news was I had missed the
7:50pm bus to San Sebastian. The good news was there was one more at 8:50pm that night.
I stopped in a convenience shop inside the airport terminal and bought some bottled water and a mini-can of Pringles potato chips (strictly comfort food at this point!). But I received out of the transaction
what I needed the most – exact change to pay the 15 euros bus ticket coming up in less than one hour.
How could life be so complicated – but it was…..yet I was learning to accept the language challenges,
the currency exchanges, the public transportation systems, the masses of people, all the required paperwork, and the food uniqueness – what a change to my normal life in the US! The bus was right on time, and so I was off to San Sebastian to meet Chris for the first time in almost 3 months. The bus driver was fairly young, and he drove like it (i.e. fast) and listened to American rock music the whole way to San Sebastian. I enjoyed watching the countryside as we traveled, and I was amazed at all the apartment complexes next to the highway, even in the remotest areas away from the cities. We pulled into the Plaza Pio XII bus station in San Sebastian at around 10pm that night. It was cold in this northern coastal city, and Chris was nowhere to be found. I stood outside under the shelter waiting for his local bus to arrive. Buses came and went, but none with Chris on them. So I finally called him, and he was just a few minutes away! As he came strolling across the street from the local drop-off, I was never happier to see him. We hugged and shed tears of joy as we realized the adventure had finally begun! So we walked back over to the local bus stop and caught the next bus back to Christopher’s flat (i.e. apartment). It was really cool walking along the roads and standing in the neighborhood where I had just seen pictures of them a few weeks ago. We rode the small elevator (all elevators in Europe are small – 320 kilos max, about 4 small people) up to the fifth floor and entered the flat. After meeting Lucas, one of Chris’ two roommates, we worked out sleeping arrangements and talked until almost 2am in the morning.

Wednesday, April 8, 2009 (San Sebastian)

We awoke around 10am, showered and headed out for Technun University’s campus, only about 5 minutes walk from the flat. We were meeting Javier, one of the university staff persons responsible for
international student relations. He took us on a tour of the different engineering labs there at Technun, including a modified stock racing car suspension project that was very cool!
Javier had some work to do, so he left us to finish touring the campus by ourselves.
After seeing each of the buildings on the small campus, we were both hungry, so I took Chris to one of his favorite local cafes for some authentic Spanish food. We had grilled chicken, potatoes, fried rice, salad, and bread – cost around 13 euros for the two of us. We finished lunch (very leisurely as is the custom during the noonday meal in Europe) and headed for the local grocery market. We stocked up on
trail mix, fruit and bottled water for the trip. Chris needed to finalize his fall ’09 class schedule, so
we headed back to the flat to finish that up and drop off the groceries. What little laundry I had generated so far, I washed in their kitchen clothes washer, and then hung out to dry on their clotheslines
just outside the kitchen window. We grabbed our small shoulder backpacks, put some water and snacks in them, and headed out for some sightseeing around the city. And around the city we went. We walked
along the north beachfront that borders the city, and then toured through downtown, noticing the shops that are much like downtown in our city here in the US. The weather was very nice, about 19 degrees C (70 degrees F), and the sun was out and shining brightly this afternoon. We stopped at an ice cream shop and celebrated. I ordered (in Spanish) for the both of us! We sat in a small park plaza and enjoyed our ice cream. From the plaza, we can see the church located near the center of downtown - it is a beautiful and magnificent structure. Well, it was getting close to dark, so we headed back to the flat to have the big travel itinerary meeting! (We had talked about which countries we would like to visit, but now that I had the Eurail train map and timetable, we were ready to nail down our European travel plans.) We agreed that Paris and Rome were priorities, so we built our itinerary around them.
4/9 Barcelona, 4/10 Paris, 4/11 Paris, 4/12 Frankfurt, 4/13 Bern (night train to Rome), 4/14 Rome, 4/15 Rome, 4/15 Milan (night train to Barcelona), 4/16 Barcelona, 4/16 Bilbao, 4/17 Heathrow, 4/18 Chicago/OKC for me, San Sebastian for Chris. Chris cooked some delicious pasta w/ tomato sauce for dinner, and I had a sandwich and a orange to top it all off. We called Janet and Ryan at 1am (6pm CT)
on Skype and talked for awhile. Got to sleep around 2:30am. Too much excitement to sleep!

Thursday, April 9, 2009 Barcelona

We woke up at 10am. I took a quick shower, and ate an orange and apple for breakfast. This was the big day, the start of our travels together! I had brought an industrial needle kit and string, and I stitched up Chris’ backpack that had a slight tear in the side bottom seam. I pulled in my dried, crunchy laundry and packed everything away. I made sure we had the all-important item, the international AC converter that allowed me to charge my iPhone at 110 volts. Before we took the bus to the train station, we headed to downtown to eat lunch at a Spanish McDonald’s. There were 6-8 people deep in every line in the restaurant! (I was amazed at the amount of business all the McDonald’s did as we traveled through Europe.) We ate something like a Spanish Big Mac outside on a bench enjoying the sunshine – a typical sight in Europe, as the seating areas in most restaurants are very small, just like everything else!
We jumped on the transfer bus and arrived at the train terminal almost one hour prior to departure.
Yikes! We were in the wrong train terminal. We were leaving on a Renfe high-speed train, which departed from a different terminal that the normal local trains. Fortunately, we were only about a five minute walk away, and we were early to the station, so we set out for a nice afternoon stroll to the proper train station nearer the center of the city. (This was the first time of many where being early to
a departure saved us from being left in a city that day. I’ll be telling you later about Chris’ passport being accidentally left under his pillow in Frankfurt….) So we left around 4pm on a first-class high-speed train to Barcelona – ahhh, this is the life! (I had purchased Eurail passes for Chris and I before leaving the US. The first-class passes were only about $250 together more than 2nd class – well worth the difference when you are traveling for 14 days. However, buyer beware, the EU train companies charge tourists additional reservation fees for each train you ride. High-speed resv fees are typically average about 30 euros, while local trains are as little as 6 euros. But it adds up over a two-week trip, so
save up your lunch money before you go – you’ll need it!) Anyway, back to the train. They served us trail mix and orange juice as a snack – how about that for healthy snacks. Then they brought dinner: ham pate, tuna, potatoes, carrot and broccoli croquette, roll, and cheese for dessert. It was delicious, but snack-size. This was our normal experience in Europe – the serving sizes at meals were generally much smaller than the US, and this tradition reflects itself in European’s average weight and overall health.
So we arrived in Barcelona Sants train station at around 10pm that night. Chris was hungry….Trains generally run on schedule in Europe. People can count on them being on time for business travel and transfers to other cities. We took the Metro subway in Barcelona from the Barcelona Sants station to the Barcelona Franca station, where we would depart early in the morning for Paris. Our hostel/hotel was just across the street. It was a Verizon wireless network experience….you know the commercial where the business traveler goes into the motel and old guy at the desk (who looks really creepy) tells the traveler that he probably doesn’t want the room at the end because it has “dead spots”? Well, that’s what it was like when we checked into the Nuevo Colon hostel for a fast night’s sleep. Our room was tiny. No deadbolt on the door. (I used a chair to bolster the door while we slept.) The shower was so small that I turned the water control off over and over again when I tried to turn around in the shower!

Friday, April 10, 2009 Traveling to Paris

After a restless night of sleep, we were up at 6am and getting ready to head to Paris. We had our usual fruit and water for breakfast. As we crossed the street, we noticed the police were pulling cabs over and testing the cab drivers for alcohol consumption (there had been a big party the night before during a holiday). We were on time for our departure, found the correct platform, then located the coach car and seats as we boarded the train. But our seats were taken when we boarded our coach. After we presented our tickets to the cabin steward, he determined that the family sitting in our seats was a day early for the train! They apparently wanted to leave Barcelona early, but did not take the time to reschedule their tickets. They ended up disembarking the train because all the 1st class seats were reserved….I hope they
found a good-priced hotel room near the train station. The first leg of our trip took us to Mont Pellier. It was a slower, older train. The French countryside was beautiful, rolling hills and green fields. We changed trains in Mont Pellier to one of the ICE high-speed beauties. We had to run off some teenagers
sitting in our 1st class seats, only to find out we had boarded the wrong coach! Ooops…. (The teenagers weren’t supposed to be sitting in 1st class anyway. J ) So we found coach 2 (instead of coach 1), and we settled in for the smoothest, fastest ride yet. We were flying – averaging over 120 kmh (100 mph). We arrived in Paris at around 4pm, right on schedule (of course). Before we left the train terminal, we had a very important task to complete. We needed to make train reservations for the rest of
our itinerary. Otherwise, we might end up like the family in Barcelona, without a seat on a train.
400 euros later, and many apologies to our train reservation agent Victoria, who spoke a little English
but mostly French, we managed to schedule 2 night trains and 4 day reservations that would get us back
to Bilbao, Spain by my departure date, April 17. Next was to find the Metro (subway) to travel to our hotel. We quickly realized that being respectful and courteous went a long way toward communicating
effectively in France. We managed to locate the correct Metro station to exit at, and after navigating one
of many different ticket machines during the trip, we had our ticket in hand and boarded the Metro for the ride to our hotel station. Wow…the subways were packed in this city. And this was off-peak tourist season! Not more than 20 minutes later (and some ingested bad breath!) we arrived at our stop.
Our hotel was about 5 blocks away, a typical walk for most locals to the subway in a big city.
We checked in and dropped our backpacks in our room, our small but nice and clean room!
Wearing our passport/money lanyards (which we took everywhere but the shower with us), we set out for some dinner. Chris was hungry, of course! We were right in the center of downtown, as was the usual case, since we normally stayed close enough to the train station that we could get there quickly
enough to avoid missing our train, should an emergency or delay arise. So there were lots of ethnic
sandwich shops near our hotel, as many immigrants find acceptance in European countries, and France was no different. We settled on a Turkish Kebab sandwich shop a couple of blocks away from the hotel.
I went with the chicken sandwich (like a hoagie), and Chris went with the full monty gyros, with enough meat on it to give a middle-aged man a heart-attack right there on the spot! The sandwiches came with frites (fries), sometimes call potatoes over there. (I never saw a baked potato the whole time I was over there.) They don’t want to give you ketchup, but if you beg enough and act like a desperate American tourist they will pry the ketchup bottle out of the fridge or give you a few packets of some strange brand to keep you from tearing up! So we sat at one of the few tables in the little dining area (yes, always little)
and watched some of the Turkey/Iran soccer game. Now the game was about over when we arrived, and
we had to stop the process of ordering for a few minutes when the Turkish national team scored and all mayhem broke loose in the shop for a few minutes. All the manager’s friends were there hanging out, and they were shouting and carrying on for some time after the goal. So we ate and watched the rest of the game, which was a very happy time for the guys around us, as their homeland team won the match 1-0. It was getting late when we left the sandwich shop, so instead of venturing out to find a late-night grocery, we decided to wait until the next morning to locate some fruit and water.
We returned to the hotel, plugged in our cell phones, planned our sightseeing for the next day, and before finally collapsing in bed after a long two days of mostly travel (and a short night in the Nuevo Colon hotel), we called home and wished Ryan very happy 17th birthday!

Saturday, April 11, 2009 Paris

We did not know it at the time, but we awoke early Saturday like two little tourist lambs getting ready
to be sacrificed in the streets of Paris! How can you fit so many people in such a small space of land? And this was off-peak season no less…. After a quick shower to wake up (kind of like external coffee for me), we set out to find the nearest fruit market in the area. Just past the Kebab place last night, there was a small grocer with the essentials. We bought up on fruit, water, and Pringles for the next couple of days. After dropping everything off at the hotel except what we needed for the day, we loaded up our small shoulder bags with maps, fruit, water, and tour books, especially my “Europe for Dummies” guide.
We normally buy a Metro day pass when we are sightseeing, because we use the subway to move easily and quickly around the city from attraction to attraction without having to wait in line each time.
Paris was no different, except that everybody in the city had the same idea! And I imagine with it being Saturday, it did not help much either. Just picture ants in an ant colony – this is an accurate description of every subway car, museum, and other attraction in the city that day!

We headed for the Louvre Museum first. Picture a rectangular building the size of a city block with an inner courtyard the size of a few football fields and you’ve got an idea of the size of this world-famous structure. Chris and I decided we would spend the first half day there, and then visit the Eiffel Tower in the afternoon. After 3 hours, we had run through the key areas of the museum, making sure to see the Mona Lisa and many of the incredible art works on display. With thousands and thousands of visitors each day at 12 euros apiece, I had no concerns that this museum had enough operating revenue to thrive!
Next was the Musee D’Orsay, where one of the greatest collections of paintings from all periods were on display. We had purchased a two-day museum/attraction pass for 36 euros each, so by the time we
saw all the sights and museums in Paris on Saturday and Sunday morning, we had really benefited from
the one price ticket. We had heard the food in the Latin Quarter near downtown was delicious yet reasonably priced, so we headed there for a late lunch. After being seated at a small table out on a nice French restaurant patio, we proceeded to take over 2 hours to finish our meal. This was our first (and only) bad experience during our whole time in France. Our waiter was impatient and inefficient, and
by the time we left it was close to 5:30pm. We had hoped to locate the Picasso Museum before it closed
that afternoon, but after searching for a short while, we realized we must abandon our search and plan
to come back the next day. So on to the Eiffel Tower we went. We caught the subway and arrived just
in time for the rain. Fortunately, it was more like a drizzle than a downpour. I had left my plastic poncho back at the room (wups), but I needed to protect my one navy blue sweater from getting wet, so I fashioned a nice box top from a street vendor and covered my head with it all during our visit.
Of course there were statues of Greek men all over the plaza near the Eiffel Tower mall. And Chris and I chuckled when we witnessed a soccer player pick up his ball and hurl it at one of the statues in a very compromising place! We left the Eiffel Tower and headed for the Arc de Triomphe. More walking. Lots of walking in Europe. On the way, however, the one thing happened to me that you do not want to happen in Europe – I needed to use the restroom. There are generally very few public restrooms in Europe. Museums, train stations, and American fast food restaurants are about it for easy accessibility.
So I had to be creative this time. I went to one of the local restaurants in the area, gave my backpack to Chris to watch for me, and grabbed a napkin off one of the patio tables, pretending to be wiping my hands off from my meal. I entered the restaurant, and thinking I was a patio guest, when I asked for the
“toilet”, the bartender pointed downstairs. After having to come back up and get 50 cents change, I gave thanks as I used the facilities and headed back upstairs. Taking my backpack back from Chris, we headed onward to the Arc de Triomphe and the Champ Elysee. Finishing our walk down the famous
boulevard, we headed over to the cathedral at Notre Dame before dark. And finally, we had dinner at another Turkish kebab place near the hotel. By the time we returned to the hotel, I was done. We had walked for miles that day, lived among the “ants” in the museums, plazas, and subways, and had been away from the hotel for over 12 hours. We both fell into bed, realizing that if we were to see Picasso’s
great works that we would have to leave sleeping in for another day.

Sunday, April 12, 2009 Frankfurt

Sunday was a travel day to Frankfurt, but we had some unfinished business to take care of. We decided
Saturday night to take the risk (of missing our 10:40am train departure) and go find and tour the Musee D’ Picasso that morning. So we arose around 6am (myself tired after walking around Paris for 12 hours the day before), showered, checked out of the hotel, and rode the Metro back to the subway station near
the Latin Quarter (where we had been Sat evening). We arrived almost an hour before the museum actually opened at 9:30am, so we decided to locate it first, and then find a fruit stand for our usual breakfast fare. Well, we searched the narrow winding streets behind the Latin Quarter for almost 30 minutes before finally locating the museum. We ate our breakfast as we stood outside the large wooden doors leading into the courtyard that fronted the five-story building. Museum personnel were arriving (mostly by bicycle) for the day’s opening to come very soon. Shortly after 9:30am they opened the wooden gate doors and let us in. The first thing I noticed was a large mirrored wall in the courtyard that reminded me of Picasso’s abstract work. I learned from one of the museum attendants that shortly after Picasso died in 1973, his estate owed the government a significant amount of back taxes. The only option the family had was to pay the back taxes through the donation of Pablo’s sizable artwork collection. By 1979, the Picasso family had turned over more than 50 works by Picasso and other impressionist artists he had collected paintings and sculptures from during his lifetime. The French government purchased the current museum location and displayed over 50 paintings and sculptures from the artist and his colleagues. It was without a doubt my favorite art museum on the trip….

It was now 10:10am, and we had a train to catch. We asked the attendant in the coat room, and he helped us head toward the nearest Metro entry point. We navigated through the winding streets again,
and emerged just a block or so from the Metro entry tunnel. We purchase our last Paris Metro ticket (a single), and boarded the subway heading north toward the Garede Est train station. (Paris had 3 large train stations that I can remember, so it was always important to find out which station we were departing from the next day, so that we could plan early to travel there in time for departure. Though we had taken a risk visiting the museum the same morning we were departing, we arrived well over 30 minutes prior to departure, so were in good shape, and decided to focus on attention on something we
thought about a lot, but did not enjoy very often, and that was food! We decided to split a chicken sandwich on a long French loaf with lettuce, tomatoes, and some type of mystery spread. (Condiments in Europe were largely different than the US, so many times I ordered my food dry – a reversion back to childhood, I suppose…. :-) On to the train platform we went, located our coach, and boarded and found our seats. Most of the French trains were very fast and nice, and this one was no exception. Why, the bathroom on the train was larger than the one in our hotel! We traveled first to a small city on the German border, exited the train, and waited 30 minutes before catching our connection to Frankfurt. I felt sorry for the people riding in the baggage area of the 2nd class coach. It appeared that they had a ticket to ride the train, but no seat reservation. (And you know how important those seat reservations can be!) We were served lunch (free!) on the 1st high-speed train. Everyone was surprised, because in Europe you have to pay extra for almost everything on the trains and planes…. Lunch was comprised of a few small slices of chicken, potatoes, broccoli and cauliflower, bread, and caramel custard. Everything was refrigerated cold. I knew Chris had to be very hungry, because he ate every bite of his lunch, including the cold broccoli and cauliflower! The stewardess offered us some complimentary chocolate called Ritter Sport, and we both fell in love. It was delicious! We arrived in Frankfurt at approx. 4pm, and following our normal routine, went to the tourism desk in the train terminal to reserve a hotel room. We found that unless we had made a reservation in a city prior to arriving, (and after Barcelona we were winging it), the tourism desk had the two most important things we needed – a map of the city with all the famous sites, and some much appreciated expertise in two-star hotels near the train terminal. We liked staying near the train terminal, so that when we left the next morning, if anything went awry, we were close enough to recover and still make our train departure. (Note that there’s a 3 euro fee (i.e. bribe) you have to pay at the tourism desk when you make your hotel reservation from there. But it’s worth it. Most of the hotels we stayed at were under 50 euros, and they were generally very clean and well-kept. Some even included breakfast, which was a welcome site, for Chris could then consume a majority of his daily requirements before we ever got on the train! So we walked the two blocks or so to our hotel, Hotel Europe, conveniently located close to the train station and near downtown as well.
We checked in, left our backpacks there, and headed out for some sightseeing and more Ritter Sport chocolate. We found it plentiful in many of the street side shops, and there were many flavors and types
available to buy in a 1.60 euro bar. We took the suggested tour on the city map and ended up in a small plaza with lots of German restaurants. We chose one with a daily special, and two plus hours later we paid our bill and continued our journey through the city. It was close to 9:30pm by the time we returned to the hotel, and since our television was not working (not uncommon in Europe, as media is a much lower priority than here in the US), we read our books, wrote notes for our blogs, and fell asleep with the sounds of the city still floating into our room through our open window on the fifth floor.

Monday, April 13, 2009 Bern

On to Switzerland this morning! I woke to my iPhone (i.e. gadget that does just about everything J) playing the Mission Impossible theme. I felt very rested, certainly a luxury on the trip. It was unseasonably warm in Frankfurt this morning (22-25 degrees C – about 76 degrees F). We showered and packed for our 10:50am departure to Bern. But before leaving Hotel Europe, we enjoyed a nice breakfast of turkey, prosciutto, Swiss cheese, hearty bread, hard-boiled eggs, orange juice, lemon pound cake, and bananas. After Christopher finished his third course or so, we expressed our thank you’s again to the hotel management and left the hotel for our short walk to the train station. I stopped and bought water for the train trip and Ritter Sport chocolates for gifts to bring home. We arrived approx. 30 minutes prior to departure, right on time. Smooth as silk, right? Suddenly, Christopher realizes he has
left his passport holder under his pillow at the hotel. Ouch! Now, here’s the reason why we like to stay within a reasonable close proximity to the train stations – if we forget something, or an emergency arises,
then we still have time (hopefully) to recover. This was no exception. Chris took off in a full dash back to the hotel. T-minus 20 minutes to departure. My gray hair was multiplying as I sat there waiting on him to return! Ten minutes later he came hustling back through the front entrance to the station, passport holder in hand. Whew, what a relief! We were back on schedule, and could now cross the Swiss border without being detained. The moral of this story – stay near the train stations during your one-day travels in Europe, and you’ll never regret doing so! J
The ICE high-speed train from Frankfurt to Bern was truly incredible. Modern cabin accommodations and 100-plus mph speed while boasting as smooth a ride as a fine luxury automobile.
A gentleman boarded at the stop in Karlschule. He appeared to have been late and had to run to catch the train. I thought there for awhile we were going to have to break out the defibrillator and paddles to save him, but he eventually was able to calm down on his own!
We arrived in Bern that afternoon around 3pm. And when I tried to purchase something to eat in the train station, I quickly realized my euros were worthless, and only Swiss francs would speak in this country of global finances….. They accepted my credit card, and after I quickly estimated the dollar to franc conversion rate, I realized I had purchase a $12 sandwich, fries, and a drink. This would not be a budget evening, I quickly realized, but since we were heading to Rome on a 11pm night train, we decided to just do without and not convert any euros to francs. We picked up a map of the city from the
tourism dept in the train station (our usual MO), and headed out into the city for some sightseeing. The
downtown area of Bern reminded me very much of an upscale American city like downtown Chicago. Nice shops and restaurants lined the plaza area in the center of the city. We dined in the plaza out on the patio at a restaurant called Gfelleler. Christopher ordered a daily special that included soup, salad, peas, carrots, potatoes, and pork tenderloin. We decided not to calculate the meal cost back to US dollars, as it would have spoiled the meal! Men played chess and another game I had never seen before on large game boards painted on the concrete in the plaza. It was growing dusk, so we headed back to the train station. We arrived early and settled in a passenger waiting area until our train arrived for pre-boarding.
As always, the train was right on time, and we pre-boarded at approx. 10:45pm and prepared to leave.
Now this train had seen better days. Most night trains are older (from my experience anyway), and
this one had been around for some time. We had reserved a two-person sleeper berth for approx. 130 euros. It had upper and lower bunks. Christopher took the top one. I got the lower. Picture a college dorm room and then cut it in two. That’s what a 2-person sleeper berth on a train looks like. Makes a cruise ship room look like a hotel suite! And the ride. This train had been built back when air-ride suspension was a futuristic concept! I finally fell asleep about 2am, and our steward woke us a 7:30am to deliver our passports and tickets back, as well as a European breakfast comprised of expresso and a danish. I hadn’t planned on drinking the expresso, and while I was brushing my teeth at a small sink in the cabin, the expresso spilled and christened my backpack! Yuck! So I cleaned things up the best I could, and the smell of that expresso stayed with me for the rest of my journey…..and every time I smelled it, I thought of the train I could not fall asleep on because it felt like the Wildcat roller coaster at Frontier City….But we were in Rome….beautiful, historic Rome. Land of the roots of Catholicism. Home of Pope Benedict XVI, a good man with strong moral convictions. I could hardly wait to see the Vatican and the Roman Coliseum! So we found the tourist desk, paid the bribe, made our hotel reservation, and went to check in.

Tuesday, April 14, 2009 Rome

Our hotel, The Hotel Stromboli, was a short walk from the train station, and our room was a welcome sight after the night on the train. The bed looked awfully inviting, but alas, sleep was not in the schedule for the day, so we settled for a hot shower and a semi-clean change of clothes. As usual, we sat down and negotiated a sightseeing plan for the day. (When you travel with someone, it is important to communicate openly about which each would like to see – this way both persons gets to see as much of their preferred itinerary as possible.) Christopher and I are fairly like-minded, so it didn’t take long to agree on a plan for the day. We both wanted to see the Vatican first, St. Peter’s Basilica next, and cap off the day with a visit to the Roman Coliseum. We were off to the subway station, and caught a train to the station near the Vatican. Now as we walked through the inner “streets” (which were hardly wide enough for a car, we passed a hole-in-the-wall pizza kitchen (too little for seating) that emitted an aroma from heaven. I had passed on the expresso and danish for breakfast, and it was getting late in the morning, so I decided to try some of the pizza as a snack before our usual late afternoon meal. All the hot thin crust pizzas were on display in the window, and you simply asked them to cut you off a certain amount, and then you paid by weight. Two rectangular medium slices run about 2 euros ($2.70 US). I settled on the sausage and mushroom, and moments later was handed two pieces in a piece of wax paper to go. I paid with some of my euro coins, made sure I had enough water in my bottle from the night before, and we were off on our walk to Vatican.
As I took a bite of the pizza, I realized I had stumbled across one of the truly special delicacies in Europe! Even the upscale brick-oven pizza in the US did not measure up to this….and in Rome no less!
I shared some with Christopher (with his puppy-dog eyes), and after seeing his reaction realized that a return trip to the pizza hole-in-the-wall would be likely before we left Rome….
On to the Vatican. As we approached within a couple of blocks of the entrance, we were approached by a tour sales guide. After trying to convince us that we would be waiting for hours to get into the Vatican on our own, that for a mere 80 euros, she would take us on a special tour, complete with back entrance access to St. Peter’s Basilica. It all sounded reasonable, and our schedule required that we only spend 3 hours or so there, but I couldn’t bring myself to pay that much for a tour. So I made a management decision and we headed for the entrance on our own. We circle the corner and expected a line blocks long, but instead walked right up to the door and entered the waiting line to purchase an entry pass. In fact, since we wanted to purchase the 2-day attraction pass, we walked right in to the shoppe inside the entry and purchase our pass immediately. We had almost been hoodwinked, that’s for sure! It was said that there are approx. 2000 rooms in the Vatican, and unless we had rocket packs, we realized we could not see it all. So we decided to concentrate on seeing the Sistine Chapel, and then heading over to St. Peter’s Basilica after that. It was off-peak season for the tourists, but you wouldn’t know it inside the Vatican! We traveled down corridor after corridor, shuffling with the crowds, transitioning from inner room to the next large open area, for what seemed like miles. And the paintings and statues were so
exquisite, they became overwhelming after awhile. We finally arrived at the doorway entrance to the Sistine Chapel, and as we entered, I was truly awestruck by the surreal scene taking place before me.
The chapel room was very large, probably 200ft by 200ft by 100 ft tall. The crowd (probably a couple of thousand people) was crammed shoulder to shoulder throughout the room, and the only real way to move was when the crowd ebbed and flowed from the entry door to the exit door at the backside of the room. Both the ceiling and walls were truly exquisite, and I could truly appreciate Michelangelo’s talent as I studied each of his individual works on the ceiling. And I remembered the comment I had read about him painting more like a sculptor than a painter – it was true! Every so often, one of the over-zealous security officers (who were everywhere in the Vatican) would hiss and shout (as quietly as possible) “Silence!”, and the crowd would reduce their chatter to a murmur again. And then the commotion and whispering would grow little by little, and after a few minutes longer, would peak in a frenzy again, only to be chastised by the same security officer to be silent again. And this cycle would repeat itself over and over again while our 15 minute trip through the room transpired. (I realized that most of the visitors were there to see the artwork, and really had little regard for what the paintings meant or the importance of the room in God’s history of the world.) Now I found this whole experience very strange. You have this security guard demanding silence and respect for our Holy God in the Sistine Chapel, and yet just a few hundred feet outside there is a trinket shop on your way out of the Vatican where they sell tourist wares for inflated prices. And these little shops exist all over the Vatican as you travel through the hallways and rooms. Sound familiar? I wonder if the Pope approves of all these tourist curio shops, and how does he reconcile the holiness of the Vatican with the tourist groups shuffling through the halls each day? To me, this was another wonder of the world…..Well, we exited out of the Vatican and walked toward the entrance to St. Peter’s Basilica. Would the tourist guide be right? Would the wait be hours? Fortunately, not. We walked up to the back of the “line” to enter the security area where each tourist would pass again through the metal detectors for entrance into the church. The line was actually a wide crowd of people funneling into a small gate area to pass into security. Christopher and I stood literally crammed chest to chest in the crowd, sometimes almost to a suffocating degree for just over an hour before finally being birthed into the security area. (I realized how someone could easily be trampled if the crowd pushed forward like they have before rock concerts in the U.S.) Once in there, it was just a matter of a few minutes before entering the Basilica. The columns and supports were truly stunning. And the paintwork on the walls and ceilings was equally magnificent. I tried to picture the artists painting the scenery suspended from the ceilings some hundreds of years ago….quite an education in world history!
We exited St. Peter’s Basilica and found the Metro subway entrance with one goal in mind – return to the pizza! Fifteen minutes later we arrived at the first subway station we had stopped at, found the pizza kitchen, and purchased lunch-sized portions of the delicious fare, including some pepperoni that we could sample together. We sat on the steps of the plaza where some famous fountains located, ate our pizza, and talked about what lifetime Christian ministry was all about. With only a couple of hours of sunlight left, we hastily caught the subway and traveled to the southeast side of the city to visit the Roman Coliseum. I was amazed at the size of the structure, and just like the Egyptian pyramids, wondered how a structure of this size could be built without modern crane equipment and such….
Now dusk was upon us, and darkness was steadily covering the city as we made our way back to the
hotel area. Christopher was really wanting some gelato, so we walked around for awhile looking for a
small gelato shoppe. One of the corner restaurants had gelato on its menu, so we went in and sat down. The entrees were reasonably priced, so I thought I would order something small before the ice cream. The waiter appeared to understand us as we ordered, but before we knew it, we realized we
had entered a tourist trap. We were charged 5 euros for the bottled water, a 2 euro “service charge”, and
by the time we left (without any gelato for dessert because they did not have what they advertised), the
tab was close to 20 euros! That was equivalent to 3 or 4 pizza lunches - what a ripoff!
Not to be defeated, we took a subway back to an area we were visiting earlier and located a gelato shoppe. Two two-flavor cones later, we were in gelato heaven, and sat outside in the moonlight enjoying our dessert together. Finally, back in the Hotel Stromboli, I was exhausted. We had traveled by train and walked mostly for two days with very little sleep. And the crowds! THE CROWDS! I do not believe the term “privacy” exists anywhere in Europe…..Back in the solace of our hotel room, Christopher and I cherished the minutes of stillness and silence before going to sleep that night…..

Wednesday, April 15, 2009 Milan

We awoke a few minutes before 8am. We had a 9:30am reservation to Milan. I showered quickly in our private bathroom (worth every penny!) and rustled Christopher up. We packed our meager belongings up and checked out at the front desk before entering the café downstairs for breakfast.
Included with our 50 euro room charge, the breakfast was excellent. Eggs, some type of mystery ham, orange juice, and a multi-grain crossaint with honey rounded out my choices. Christopher ate until we had to leave, and since we were only 200 meters or so from the train station, we arrived 30 minutes early for our departure. We located the platform, and boarded our train without incident. Arrival time in Milan was scheduled for 1:30pm, and as usual the train was almost perfectly on time. Our night train to Barcelona would not depart until 11pm, so we found the tourist office at the train station and picked up a map of Milan. We quickly settled on visiting the plaza at the center of downtown, since nearby was the fourth largest church in Europe. These plazas are large open squares, usually at least a few hundred feet across in length and width, and sometimes much larger. Polished stone usually covers the whole square,
and crowds gather to sit on the steps and benches as they eat food or relax before returning to their jobs or traveling to see the next tourist site. The sun was shining brightly this day, and I used my backpack as a pillow and leaned back and enjoyed its warmth for awhile. Christopher located another gelato shoppe, and so we enjoyed a cone and hung out with all of our millions of friends on the steps of the plaza. I called Janet to say hi. Who would have ever thought ten years ago that I could surf the web on my iPhone and call my wife half way around the world, all from the center of the plaza in downtown Milan? We did walk around some and sightsee that afternoon, but to be honest, my heart was not in it.
I had witnessed some of the most historic and impressive architecture in the world over the past two weeks, and at this point, I was just worn out. So we hung out in the plaza until the sun starting setting in the west, and then headed back to the train station to prepare for our 11pm night train departure.
Train stations are mostly open to the outside air, and Milan’s was very similar. In the spring, temperatures drop in the 50s F (10-15 degrees C), and by the time we returned to the station, I was cold.
So we found an internal waiting room for departing customers, and Christopher and I sat in the warm, hard seats (with my head bobbing because I was so sleepy from the past two days of travel!) and waited for our train. Now if I had a cranky moment on the trip, this was probably it. I was tired, sleepy, hungry,
and somewhat phobic from all the people being so close to me all the time. I was ready to take a walk in a lonely place, sleep again in my own bed, have a salad with familiar dressing, wear a different sweater and shoes that I had worn for the past two weeks, and eat meat that I recognized. I was ready to go home. Europe had been great, and I hoped to return some day, but for now, I was ready to return to my homeland, which I appreciated in newfound ways that I had never even begun to realize before…..
We boarded our 11pm train to Barcelona right on time. Now this train had reclining sleepers, which in laymen’s terms, means “no beds”. It’s kind of like sitting in a big LazyBoy recliner next to a couple of other dozen people doing the same in your coach car. And unfortunately, most night trains are of the much older age, and this one was no exception. Not only are the older trains typically slower, they are also much rougher riding that the newer high-speed trains. So sleeping on one of these “sleeper” trains
is an art, one that I was not able to master again on this journey.

Thursday, April 16, 2009 Barcelona/Bilbao

With about two hours of cat-napping under my belt, we arrived in Barcelona on schedule at 9:30am, and our transfer to Bilbao would be departing in about 3 hours. So we made a reservation, but could only secure 2nd class seats. Remember my attitude already being challenged in Milan? Well, in 2nd class we would be sitting with families with young babies and active children for the next 9 hours. God, are you trying to build a new level of patience within me? We arrived late in Bilbao, and since my flight would not depart until the next afternoon, Christopher and I would have one last evening together before I would head back to London/Chicago/OKC, and Christopher would return to San Sebastian to finish his semester studies abroad. We reserved a 3-star hotel room near the train station. At 65 euros, it was more expensive, but it was our last night together, and I wanted it to be memorable. And memorable it was! It was very nice, like an Embassy Suites here in the U.S. We would not be leaving until later the next afternoon, so I readied myself for bed, smiling as I eyed my nice big bed with thick pillows, with thoughts of sleeping late the next morning. And sleep we did. The hotel room made no stops at sub-stations, no jerks or shifts from side to side, just quiet restful sleep.

Friday, April 17, 2009 Saying our Goodbyes/Reprise to London

We awoke the next morning refreshed and ready to go.
Our water and fruit supply was depleted, so we took a nice hot long shower, dressed, packed up and checked out, and headed for the nearest fruit stand. We bought oranges, bananas, and Pringles, and
found a nice bench near the river to sit and enjoy our fruit for breakfast. We spent the next hour or so just relaxing, talking, and enjoying the sights. Christopher and I talked a lot on this trip, and fortunately
I was able to encourage him in his growth as a young man in Christ and a future father and husband. Priceless! The best way to get to the Bilbao airport was to take the subway to the southwest side of the city, and then catch a bus at the main bus depot and travel all the way back across the city to the northeast side where the airport was located. Total time – about 1 hour. So we grabbed a sandwich for a late lunch and caught the subway to the main bus depot. Thirty minutes later we were at the airport.
Now we had been together just about every moment over the past ten days or so, and we had been through a lot together. Parting would be sorrowful, but we both realized that exams were coming up in less than one month, and Chris would be home very soon after that. We had a couple of hours before my flight would leave, so we just sat in the airport and reminisced about our adventure together, forgetting the disappointments, and laughing at ourselves as we remembered how we blindly learned the ways of Europe moment by moment. Suddenly Chris says, “Dad, I think I would like to see Madrid before I leave. Do you think I can still catch a late train this afternoon?” What had happened? The first few days of our journey Chris had taken cues from me, and seemed to be timid about venturing out on his own. But this was a different young man. He had changed. The fear was gone. The adventurous nature was there. So I told him to get going – he needed to take a bus back to the train station, and then
make a reservation to Madrid if a train was available. So we said our goodbyes, and Chris hustled out to the bus stop to catch the next bus. As I sat and waited for my flight, I smiled, for God had fulfilled one of His many purposes on our trip….my son no longer had “a spirit of timidity, but one of love, power, and self-control”! (I called later that night to find Chris walking the streets of Madrid, all by himself, staying in a hostel, and planning to stay a second day to soak it all in.) Now, that’s the way, my son!
By the way, do you have a dream list? I do. Not, not a bucket list, even though that is a good thing to. But bucket lists are for the dying – dream lists are for the living. I hope to fulfill my dream list before my bucket list kicks in, if you know what I mean…… I encourage you to start your dream list today!
(And this trip was one of my first entries, that’s for sure!)

My flight to London was quiet and serene. It was raining and somewhat cold when I arrived.
I had made a reservation in a hotel close to Heathrow Airport, since I had to be at the airport by 5:30am the next morning for my 7:30am flight to Chicago/OKC. I caught a shuttle bus to the hotel and checked in. All alone for the first time in almost two weeks, I began to relax and unwind, and quickly realized I had been operating on very little sleep the past few days. So I ate an English dinner of chicken and potatoes, and fell fast asleep not long after.

Saturday, April 18, 2009 America, Sweet America!

I awoke at 4:30am in London. One hour before the shuttle bus would arrive for its first pickup outside
the hotel. I showered and dressed for the last time in my jeans, long-sleeve t-shirt, navy sweater, and
walking shoes. Boy, will I be glad to wear some sweats or shorts (i.e. something different) when I get back! (By the way, I shower for the same reason most people drink coffee, to wake up!) And I needed a boost this morning at 4:30am, that’s for sure. But I was going home to America. Sweet America. Land of the free. A place where you can stretch out without bumping into someone, where you can drive a car on a street wider than 8 feet, where you can find a public restroom if you need one, where you can buy a hamburger that tastes like a hamburger, where you can go anywhere you like without asking permission to do so. God has blessed our nation in many ways, and my trip definitely reminded me of all the great things about our country.
Shortly after 5:30am the shuttle bus arrived, and I boarded a transit for the last time on my trip and quietly rode to the airport. I found Terminal 3, passed through the numerous layers of security, presented my passport to the customs official and answered all the “why are you leaving the country?” questions, and entered the secure gate area and waited for my plane. Thankfully, it was right on schedule, and I boarded around 7:30am and departed without incident. America, sweet America….on my way. We were traveling on one of those wide-body jets (which seats 10 people or so across). The
breakfast served was delicious. Six hours later, we touched down in Chicago. I considered kissing the ground when we deplaned, but I was afraid security would detain me and start asking questions about my activities the past two weeks! But suffice it to say, it was good to be home – at least in the same country. My layover in Chicago was for 2-3 hours, so I found a quiet seat in a nondescript hallway
and worked on my crossword puzzle. I love crossword puzzles. I learn new things all the time when I work them. And when I finish, even if I have a few squares I am not completely sure about, I declare victory and move on to the next one. (Sometimes I have to cheat and use my iPhone to surf the web for answers – but you would never do that, would you? J) Despite Chicago’s poor reputation for on-time flight arrivals, my plane showed up on schedule and we boarded without delay. My cousin’s husband, Ryan Perry, was on the same flight returning home from visiting his daughters. We talked for a few minutes prior to liftoff, but after that, we rode quietly and endured the small plane’s turbulence. It’s funny, but I tried diligently to carry on conversations with locals while in Europe – that’s part of the true experience. But by this time, I was in resting mode, and so I sat quietly thinking about the adventure I had just been on – what a trip!
It was approx. 2:30pm CT when we arrived in OKC at Will Rogers Airport. Janet was waiting for me
right outside the security area when I departed the gate. It sure was good to see her – this was the longest we had been apart since we were married. And I had no baggage to claim. What a nice convenience! We headed out of the terminal, found our car in the parking area, and headed home. Home sweet home. It was great to be home.

Prologue

It’s been a little over one month since my return from my visit with Christopher in Europe. He flies in on Continental Flight 1704 at 10:52pm this evening. Tim Thomas, his college roommate, is coming from Enid to ride to the airport with me to pick Chris up. Chris’ exams at Technun University in San Sebastian, Spain are all complete now, and he is coming home to be with us for the summer. What a joy this son of mine is! It will be great to have him with us for a short while again……

You can go to Facebook by clicking on these links to see all the pictures of the trip!

eurotrip: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=107935&id=589020843&l=d8997c1956
eurotrip2: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=107968&id=589020843&l=9117fd5dd5
eurotrip3: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=107972&id=589020843&l=e2686bb247
eurotrip4: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=107987&id=589020843&l=69eb74485f
eurotrip5: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=107999&id=589020843&l=fe490746e1

Things quickly resumed to normalcy here in the U.S. for me. My inbox so full of email when I returned the email administrator had locked it from any additional incoming messages! Alas….some things in life remain constant… But there was really something different in me and about me. It was the memories of all the places I had been and all the wonderful people I had met along the way. I realized Europe had changed me for the better. It challenged me to better co-exist with others, to be more flexible, to live more for the people of this world rather than the things of this world. And for that, I am truly grateful…..So back to our dream lists. Have you been working on yours? I need to start planning for my next dream….Bon Jour!