A Travellerspoint blog

August 2019

Hiking Cornwall's Coastal Path is Spectacular, but Wet

Be prepared for rain, gorgeous views, castles, and charming seaside towns

semi-overcast 68 °F

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View from St. Michael's Mount

I've been to England a good number of times, but the best visit was probably my coast walking trip to Cornwall. I flew in on Virgin Atlantic and six hours later, hopped off the train in Penzance. That night I watched a local Rugby game and had a pub dinner.

The next day I visited St. Michael Mount, crossing the foot path to the islet at low tide. I hiked up to the castle and explored its interior. The views were superb -- it was easy to dream what it would be like to live in this tall, stone house overlooking the Cornish cliffs below. The windows were placed for great views -- you could look down and see the waves crashing against the rocks far below. From the ramparts, as I watched the waves cover the causeway, I decided to take it easy the rest of the day since my hiking began the next day.

I had bought an excellent guidebook/map ("Walk the Cornish Coastal Path" by John H.N. Mason). For the next four days, and a fifth day later in the trip, it was up and down the hills of the coast (and occasionally across a meadow, forest or rocky shore). The scenery was spectacular. Time and again, I thrilled to the waves slamming into the rocks, the wide blue sweeps of bays and the sparkling slices of beach like wedges of melon. And always, looming above, the green hills with their bald brown rocks peeking through and tufts of heather and meadow grass atop.

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Hell's Mouth, Cornwall

The much-billed "Land's End" was interesting and picturesque, but was a cold dash of tourist crowds compared to the solitude of most of the path. And speaking of cold dashes, be prepared for rain showers. My first two days hiking I was soaked through by the end of the day. A Cornish lady had told me, "We don't get weather here -- just 'bits' of weather." A little sunshine, a little cloud, some rain, more sun, more rain, and so on. I hiked from Mousehole (where I'd taken a bus to from Penzance) to St. Ives. My nightly stops on the way were at Bed & Breakfasts at Porthcurno, Botallack, Zennor and St. Ives. I also hiked from Polruan to Polperro after a couple evenings spent in the seaside towns of St. Ives, Falmouth and Fowey. My favorite section was from Porthcurno to St. Just, with great views at Land's End, Pendower Cove, Carn Les Boel and Whitesand Bay.

Although my hike was linear from Mousehole to St. Ives, I'd recommend a different method for those following in my (often labored) footsteps. Take a bus to Botallack, for example, and get a B&B for two nights. Stow your stuff and take another bus to Zennor. Hike from Zennor back to Botallack. The next morning, take a bus to Sennen Cove and hike back to your B&B from the other direction. That way, you treat each as a "day hike," taking along only camera, water, food and rain gear. Keep the clothes and heavy stuff back in the closet of your room. Cornwall's excellent bus network (buy a schedule at the newsstand) will enable you to pull this off.

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Readymoney Cove

Cornwall's seaside towns are a joy, too. Each one's harbor is unique, it seems, but all seem to have the same quaint houses, brightly-painted boats bobbing in the water, and pleasant pubs where you can sip a cider and look out across sea and sky. I spent two nights each in St. Ives, Falmouth and Fowey. Falmouth's castles -- actually Renaissance era "star forts" -- were interesting, and all three were pretty places to wander along the waterfront or check out old churches, watch towers and beaches.

Whether you're a walker, a town shopper or a history buff, Cornwall is definitely worth "taking a hike" to visit.

Posted by world_wide_mike 15:34 Archived in United Kingdom Comments (0)

Beach & Tiny Island Beckons to the Bahamas

First airline trip was to Great Guana Cay

sunny 82 °F

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Map of Great Guana Cay

The first out-of-country trip I took after starting at America West Airlines, was a several-day idyll in the Bahamas. After reading up a bit on the country, I decided that I'd rather visit one of the "Out Islands" -- rather than Nassau or the big, touristy areas. So, I chose Great Guana Cay, a tiny spit of land off of Marsh Harbor in the Abacos. We flew America West to Orlando, then an United Express prop plane to Marsh Harbor. A boat from the resort zoomed us across the water to Great Guana Cay.

As we were to find out, the resort was the ONLY thing on the island, other than beaches, homes of the residents, and facilities for them. The resort was the only restaurant on the island as well. This was no problem, though, as it was an excellent place to dine. The tables were outside overlooking a nice, sunny bay. The photo below shows the view from our breakfast table, the next morning.

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View from the Breakfast Table

The main selling point of Great Guana Cay was its miles and miles of isolated, undisturbed beaches. Although we did try a little snorkeling, our main activity was simply lying in the sun, soaking up the rays and gorgeous views. Back home in Columbus, it was a drizzly, rainy three days. Ours were the dream of every Midwesterner suffering under endless gray skies.

If the idea of a beach to yourself appeals to you, Great Guana Cay is the place to go in the Bahamas.

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Beach, Great Guana Cay

Posted by world_wide_mike 05:56 Archived in Bahamas Comments (0)

Deployment to Honduras Gives Insights to Lives of Locals

Army job as a photojournalist allows me to see some of the world, too!

sunny 82 °F

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Camp Oso Grande, Honduras

A great adventure awaited me in Honduras. The U.S. Army was building a road through rough, hilly terrain. The training mission was to teach our engineer units to do this, the PR mission was to make a road so the farmers could more easily get their produce to market. I was a reporter in a public affairs detachment, sent out with a photographer and officer to do an article on this project. We flew in to a base camp via helicopter that gave the officer strong heebie-jeebie memories of Vietnam. It was called Oso Grande, but its amenities were anything but "oh-so grand."

We were accompanied by an interpreter on two separate days of driving around, interviewing the locals. For a college kid from Central Ohio, the hardscrabble villages of Honduras were an eye-opener. The people were invariably friendly, though, and I enjoyed my time quite a bit.

I definitely remember the young kids of Honduras. They clustered around you eagerly, smiling. We took polaroid photographs of them and handed them out, along with various knick-knacks and trinkets. The photographer who accompanied me, John Wagner, took some priceless photographs that went on to win awards. I was pleased with my story, although it did not win any awards that I know of.

A month or so after we got back, there was a call for more public affairs specialist by the command group. My editor, another specialist, and myself signed up to go back down for two more weeks. I saw WAY more of Honduras this time. We were tasked with creating a "Welcome to Honduras" brochure for deploying soldiers. In addition to giving them good information about the weather, currency, customs, etc., we also did a few paragraphs on local sights that soldiers might get a chance to visit in off-time. This meant I got to see the amazing Mayan ruins of Copan, the capital Tegucigalpa, and other interesting places in Honduras.

All in all, going to Honduras with the Army was an interesting opportunity to experience another part of the world that I might not have otherwise.

Posted by world_wide_mike 14:04 Archived in Honduras Comments (0)

Deployment to Panama Interesting Trip for Young Ohioan

Squeezing in some sights and fun in down time

sunny 85 °F

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Barracks, Camp Henderson

This trip hardly qualifies as a vacation. While in the Army Reserve, I spent two weeks in Panama and Honduras for annual training, or "summer camp." It was hard work -- long days, and not a lot of free time. Here is a picture of what our "camp cabins" looked like -- barracks at Camp Henderson.

However, it was wonderful for the memories. I still remember walking through downtown Panama City, when an Panamanian police truck screeched to a halt next to me and another unit member who were sightseeing. They ordered us in. We were thinking, oh great, kidnapped! But no, they were concerned we were in what they felt was a bad neighborhood, and simply giving us a lift to a nicer shopping area. And on the way to the nicer area, my irrepressible friend Van Kalvakis was trying to find something talk to the Panamanian soldiers about. Neither of us spoke much Spanish and they spoke little English. Van hit on, "Roberto Duran" (a Panamanian heavyweight boxer popular at the time), and the truckload of soldiers perked up, repeating the name. Ah, the memories...and the unintentionally funny things that happen during travel, whether it is as a civilian or military!

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Beach near Panama City

Posted by world_wide_mike 14:13 Archived in Panama Comments (0)

Deployment to Korea an Eye Opener for Young Soldier

A trip to the DMZ and neon Itaewon are highlights

semi-overcast 40 °F

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To be honest, I never wrote a travelogue for South Korea. I visited the country as part of my two-week annual training with the U.S. Army Reserve. We were taking part in an exercise to cover the yearly deployment of American troops to the Korean peninsula. Part training, part deterrent for the North Koreans. Though it was summer, I remember it being freezing cold at night and in the morning. Our large, multi-person tent that we slept in was heated by a diesel-fueled heater. We took turns filling up the diesel can and emptying it into the heater, and generally in the process ruining our gloves. Maybe that is where my hatred of all things diesel began!

It was a busy time, with little chance for sightseeing. However, we did get to visit Panmunjom - the armistice village in the DMZ (Demilitarized Zone) where North and South Koreans meet to hold talks. A line is painted down the village demarcating North from South Korea. The room where they meet even has a line painted down it. Armed guards watch your every move while you're there. You are warned beforehand it is not the place to joke around. You will be shot if you pretend you're going to cross the line. It was pretty awesome to see it, and hear about the History behind the place. The U.S. soldiers killed by North Koreans while trimming a tree near the line. The North Korean defectors that have sprinted across to freedom, sparking a gun battle as the North attempted to shoot and kill them.

We also got a chance to spend one evening in Itaewon, which was kind of a neon, bar district in the capital, Seoul. For a young man from Ohio, it was quite the eye opener. I had always thought the campus district of Ohio State University was crazy -- especially on a football Saturday night. This made campus look tame. The other thing I remember most about Korea was how beautiful the countryside was in the mornings. The mist cloaking the hills, the temples -- it looked just like a Japanese painting. As interesting as I found South Korea, it is crazy to think that I have not been back in the intervening three decades. Maybe one day. I am sure much has changed, but so, too, have the memories faded.

Posted by world_wide_mike 07:17 Archived in South Korea Comments (0)

Scotland Serves Up a Feast for the Eyes

Remembering this as my most amazing trip, after all these years!

rain 60 °F

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Sunset on the Isle of Arran

What can I say about something which, a decade and a half later, still remains the most magnificent journey I've ever taken? "Trip" or "vacation" are too mild of words for the five weeks I traveled across Scotland. It was simply a feast for the eyes and heart. My favorite ingredients in a destination, History and Scenery, Scotland serves up in platters.

Russell, Tom and I left Columbus in late summer, splitting up or recombining during the five weeks as we each sought out corners of the country that enticed us. Our first stop was the Isle of Arran, off Scotland's southwest coast. We then hitched our way past Glasgow to the bonnie (and rainy) banks of Loch Lomond, to the port city of Oban, then on to the Isle of Mull. This stark, gorgeous island was my favorite. We rented mopeds, which, though not glamorous, are an excellent way to see the countryside. You can pull over at any time, whether to clamber across the rocks to a waterfall or hike to some ruins -- without having to find a parking space, like with a car. You are still close to nature, hearing the crash of the waves, smelling the flowers -- but you aren't exhausted when you finally arrive at your destination, like you might on a bicycle. It is a great combination of speed and experiencing the land.

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Isle of Mull

On Mull, we saw castles, brilliantly-colored double rainbows, deep blue lochs and green, sheep-dotted hillsides. Side trips to the isles of Iona and Staffa brought somber images of ruined, windblown monastaries, Scotland's graveyard of its kings, and oddly-shaped caves on islets tossed amidst the cold, majestic sea. Back on the mainland, I lingered beneath the green slopes of Ben Nevis (Scotland's highest mountain), and ferried to misty Lismore and its shrouded Viking castle.

From there, it was across the water again to scenic Skye. Gorgeous panoramas greeted us there, especially hiking in the Quirang, which for all the world looked like a a mountain range trying to poke up through a billiard table. The hillsides were a closely-cropped olive color, with brownish rock peeking through. Low areas were covered with still, silvery lakes that reflected the hazy sky. Waterfalls plunged down the cliffsides to rocky beaches. We also hiked cairn-topped hills that gave oil painting-like glimpses of the dragon-backed Cuillen Mountains.

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The Quirang, Isle of Skye

Another ferry from Skye took us further west to the remote Outer Hebrides and the isle of Harris and Lewis. We were drenched on our bicycle ride to the Standing Stones of Callanish. On the way, we roared at the sight of me "frothing at the knees," as old soap was worked into a lather in my soaked jeans by my pumping legs. We grew silent, though, as we approached the majestic stone circle. The spindly, 15-feet tall, grayish-white stones were arranged in the shape of a Celtic cross. The historical kicker is that it was built thousands of years before Christ. Callanish is every bit as impressive as the more famous Stonehenge, perhaps more so, because you can walk amongst the stones in relative solitude. As the sun came out, and we stood contemplating it, we were alone. Just the haunting landscape, an occasional gull, and the ever-present wind. Nothing further than the crowds on Stonehenge's Salisbury Plain could be imagined.

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Standing Stones of Callanish

We made landfall at mainland Ullapool, splitting up again. Tom was off to the Orkney Islands, me to Strathpeffer, and then Inverness. I met Russell there, again. Together, we saw the city's sights, toured Culloden Battlefield, and then rented mopeds again for a day-long circuit of Loch Ness. The skies were sunny and the views beautiful: Ruined Castle Urquhart; mountain-clad Fort William at the loch's southern end; and late-summer greenery blooming on the hillsides.

I decided to hang on to the moped the next day, while cost-conscious Russell returned his. When I drove off, I didn't realize it'd be the last I'd see that trip of my companions. My sights were on a grand circuit of the Grampian Mountains. It was a fitting finale to my journey -- scooting through heather-clad hills ablaze with pink blossoms, exploring castles of different shapes and styles, and enjoying a day of Highland Games (caber tossing, bagpipes, highland dancing). I even spent a day with a Scottish Territorial Army unit, photographing and interviewing them for an article for my Army Reserve magazine back home.

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Highland scenery, Grampians

When my grand tour ended back in Inverness, I hopped a train to Pitlochry, where I'd hoped to meet Tom and Russell. I arrived late to find them not there, and the hostel and bed and breakfasts all full. I was tired, and took the last train to Edinburgh, instead. When we pulled in, though, I made the decision to stay on board. It was an express that terminated in London. I was spent -- mentally, physically and monetarily. The last gasp through the Grampians had worn me out. I was ready for home, despite the fact our scheduled departure wasn't for another several days.

It was probably not a fitting end to such a magnificent feast of sights that Scotland had served up to me. Sometimes, though, the meal is so filling that you simply cannot stomach dessert. And oh, what a feast it was! A decade and a half later, I still remember it as my most sumptuous ever.

Posted by world_wide_mike 17:57 Archived in Scotland Comments (0)

High School Friends on a Weekend Idyll in Canada

A cabin on a lake in Ontario plus my best friends equals priceless memories

sunny 68 °F

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The lake at sunrise

Want to see a motley crew? Well, when five high school friends and I spent a week in a cabin on an island in the middle of a lake in northern Ontario, things were bound to get pretty ugly. The scenery was gorgeous, though, as this view of the lake at sunrise shows.

The cabin was a cool little place to stay. There were several rooms, so with some creativity in sleeping arrangements, and with the liberal use of sleeping bags, we made do. Some of my better memories of the place were stargazing with a friend's telescope at night, pointing out Saturn, Jupiter and Mars to my friends, the daily games of frisbee golf, back and forth across the island, lounging in the lake on intertubes (with a separate intertube for the beer cooler, of course!), and simply spending time with my best friends.

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The cabin on the lake

We did take time out from being lake bums a couple of times during the week -- once for dinner at the lodge across the lake, and another time for a trip into town to the Japanese steak house. Believe it or not, I am the short guy with hair on the right. Notice the oh-so-stylish pale blue pants and tinted glasses. Too cool. And hair! Contrast that with my picture on the home page for a laugh.

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My high school friends all dressed up for our night in town

In case you're curious, from left to right, it is Todd Dove (whose Dad owned the island and cabin), Dan Stephens frowning in back (he didn't want his picture taken), Doug Lockhart posing in center, John Blum next to him (our Moms all LOVED John), Dave Hawkins behind John (the prototypical "Gentle Giant"), and of course, me. Yeesh! I can't believe I put this picture on my web page...

However, it was a week that will live in my memories forever. Sadly, I've lost touch with the gang. We still run into each other maybe once every couple years, but we don't all hang out like we used to. Hey, come to think of it, perhaps I'll see them all at our next High School Reunion...

The lake at sunset

Posted by world_wide_mike 07:26 Archived in Canada Comments (0)

Daydreaming on a Kibbutz in Israel

Self-feature article written in Journalism school ponders why I travel

sunny 81 °F

(Note: Instead of one of my normal travelogues, I am putting in an article I wrote about my stay in Kibbutz Shoval in Israel. I spent several months there, working among the kibbutniks along with a dozen or so other foreign volunteers. It was an excellent way to get to know the Israelis and to see the country -- I took trips to Jerusalem, the Red Sea, Masada, Dead Sea, and other places. I like this article, even though it is less travelogue than "mood piece," so thought I would "reprint" it for you.)

The desert glowed with orange as the sun sank towards the hills. It was winter, so the normally bare, sand-colored slopes were sprouting a five o'clock shadow of thick grass.

Where I come from, the land turns green in summer, not winter. The difference intrigued me for awhile and I set my foot up on the slick, marble bench. I had wandered here after spending Autumn traveling from one European country to the next. Many lands that I once thought only my imagination would soar to, my feet had now tread.

From the top of the rise, I watched the red sun. Out here in the barren lands, it seemed to move quicker. Maybe that was because it had so much more sky to cover.

It was supper time and I was waiting outside the kibbutz's central dining hall. A few residents drifted up the walkways. I nodded to those I recognized and mumbled, "Shalom." I had told a Finnish friend that I'd wait for her. She was a foreign volunteer on the kibbutz, like me. As I thought of her country, a new set of pictures flashed into my mind. I saw snow setting beneath a canopy of dark green pines. The stretches of sparkling lakes, the wide cheerful faces of the Finns and the stiflingly-hot but cozy saunas -- I pictured them all. I had never been to Finland, but fueled by Sari's stories, my imagination had.

My imagination had been to many places. As a matter of fact, it had driven me to take this trip. I remembered what I told a friend at home in Columbus, Ohio, as he asked me why I'd want to backpack across Europe by myself. "I want to be able to spin a globe and stick out my finger," I had said. "Where it lands, I want to be able to look at and say, 'I've been there.'"

Leaning my head back and staring at the pink sky, I realized I had already covered part of that imaginary globe. If my finger were to land in England, France, Belgium, Luxembourg, Germany, Austria or Switzerland, I could say I'd been there. And now, Israel. A grin spread across my face as I smoothed my hands over my "Arab shirt." White, yellow and orange spirals ran down the front of the brown shirt, from the V-neck to the untucked edges. The intricate threadwork shone in the red sunlight. Jerusalem, and the face of the portly Arab shopkeeper who had sold it to me, floated back. "You my friend," he had stuttered. "You kibbutz, you student, I give to you for 30 shekels."

Red sandstone crusader castles, swaying palms on the shore of the blue, crystalline sea and the scrubby thorns and view from the Mount of Olives were all images I would cherish of Israel.

Strangely, as I stared into the sunset, the strands of a song echoed in my head.

"Nights in white satin,
never reaching the end...
Letters I've written,
Never meaning to send."

I had heard the song last night in our improvised dance club. However, the pictures it had created were not of a love-torn man -- which I think the song is about -- but of something completely different. I had seen the wide, lonely desert and one figure moving across it. The white surcoat, gleaming steel helm and red cross on the shield stood out clearly. It was a knight in white satin. He was galloping across the sands searching for something.

Last night, I had attributed the dreamlike thoughts to the Maccabee beers and chill night breeze. The image came back with the song, though, and it seemed etched upon my mind. I could not shake it. The sheer romanticism of it struck me and I took a deep breath. Looking out over the reds and purples of the horizon, I felt myself searching for the knight

I sank into daydreaming. Why had my knight left Europe and wandered into the Holy Land? My fertile imagination began to film the story in my mind. I viewed his horse carrying him past pyramids down amongst the black-skinned people of Sudan.

Smiling, I thought of the pyramids. They were only a few hundred miles from here and it would be a shame to come this far and miss them. However, I had planned on going to Greece, first. Then, I hoped to go to Egypt and down south into Africa. Images of the Serenghetti Plains panned before my eyes. Lions stalking, giraffes loping across the hot ground, antelopes...all there for me to see.

The words of the song floated back, but now they had been changed slightly.

"Knights in white satin,
Never reaching the end..."

I felt my chest expand. Perhaps, that was it. I was the knight. Like him, I was fated to roam the wide expanses, searching. The thing I was looking for was less tangible, though. As a matter of fact, I don't know what it is. What made me want to see every place that to others was only a name on a map?

My thoughts shifted to my adventurous knight. Maybe there was a clue there. What eventually happened to him? I rested my chin on a tanned fist and scanned the panorama below me. The story unrolled in my head like a yellowed scroll stored away in a windswept abbey in the Alps.

I want to be able to spin a globe and...

Posted by world_wide_mike 14:47 Archived in Israel Comments (0)

Switzerland the Final Stop on My Backpacking Adventure

Chance encounter with a friend I'd met earlier in Europe

sunny 56 °F

The final European stop on my post-high school, backpacking trip was Switzerland. I never wrote a travelogue back then, nor years later when I created my first website. So, the memories have dimmed over the years. What I do remember is running into a friend I had made at a youth hostel in Luxembourg. Our travels brought us together, again, and we went out celebrating. He was Welsh, and a Kiwi (New Zealander) went along with us. We explored different bars - one being an exotic dancer bar (much to our surprise). After wondering why the beers were so expensive, the "show" began. Three embarrassed teens absconded quickly. We also walked into a bar just as they broke out yodeling. We tried our best, but couldn't stop laughing, and turned around and fled, again.

Switzerland was also when I decided to cut short my European travels. It was Fall, and getting chilly. I had not packed any winter clothes. It was time, I decided, to begin phase two of my big, post-graduation adventure. I bought a one-way ticket on SwissAiir to Tel Aviv, Israel. I would spend the winter working on a kibbutz. I had read about them before leaving, and was eager to experience life in one. They were communities sent out to reclaim the land, living together communally, dining in a central dining facility, etc. The most important part was that they accepted foreign volunteers. Living there, all your food, lodging, work clothes, laundry, etc., were provided.

So, it was goodbye Europe, and on to new adventures!

Posted by world_wide_mike 07:09 Archived in Switzerland Comments (0)

Bumps on the Road in Austria

Running out of Austrian schillings in the pre-Euro, pre-ATM days

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So far on my backpacking adventure, I had visited England, France, Belgium, Luxembourg, and Germany. I was on my way to Switzerland and decided to cut through the panhandle part of Austria. So, I spent two nights in Bregenz, Austria. Why? Well, you have to understand I really didn't know how to travel back then. I was 18, and never been out of the country before I graduated high school a few months earlier. I was simply following the Youth Hostel map, and making my way from city to city across Europe. To me, Austria was simply another country to tick off my list.

I was not in the habit of writing travelogues, yet. And I skipped composing one for Austria a decade-plus later when I created my Worldwidemike website. But now that I am transferring all those website entries over to my Travellerspoint blog, I decided to finally do one for Austria -- 38 years after the fact! So, what do I remember about Austria? I remember climbing a mountain (probably a hill) on the outskirts of town. I remember halfway up being passed up rapidly by an elderly Austrian man. I clearly remember thinking, "What the heck? I am young and this old dude goes chugging up past me like I am standing still!"

I also remember gorging myself in a McDonalds upon arrival in Austria. This was in pre-ATM days. You had to visit a bank to exchange money. As I was on my way out of Germany, I was budgeting my deutsche marks, but ended up cutting it too close and running out of cash. I spent a last hungry day in Germany, and then hitch-hiked to Austria the next morning. As soon as the banks opened in Bregenz, I exchanged my American dollar travelers cheques for Austrian schillings and took my new-found wealth to a local McDonalds. I was SO hungry! Travel was MUCH tougher back in the days before ATM and credit cards...ha, ha!

Posted by world_wide_mike 07:26 Archived in Austria Comments (0)

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