I remember my first BIG trip out of the USA… back in September of 1985. I was an impetuous youth and felt invincible. I saw a NATGEO show that was exploring ancient castles of the UK. I remember that every castle and little hamlet they visited I saw young “hippie types” with huge backpacks milling about.
My life at the time was in a bit of unrest. Â I was looking for something… but wasn’t sure what. Â I made some trips to the library… no the internet wasn’t as available as it is now… I figured out how to get a passport, sold a few more bracelets and tie-dyes, saved my pennies, and bought a Euro-rail ticket for western Europe. I went to the army surplus store and bought a down sleeping bag, canteen and a few other items, and practiced packing until everything was just right. Â I bought a Fodders traveler book for Europe, plane ticket and a week later I was off.
I arrived at Heathrow Airport and was welcome with a strip search by immigration agent… welcome to the UK.
Unfortunately my memory of the trip is limited to a few “highlights”. Â I spent about a week in the UK and wandered through the streets of London, explored Glasgow castles and cathedrals, Aberdeene’s gardens, museums, and castles. Â The highlight was the hike and hitch hiking to Stonehenge, and the drumming circle I joined one night.
I had to go to France, but unfortunately they didn’t like Americans back then and the visit was brief and I was off to Switzerland by train with the next stop Germany!

I had to see the Berlin Wall of course, and I can tell you the history was everywhere in the old world cities. The people were friendly, the countrysides were gorgeous, it rained a lot and they have a lot of potato farms. I remember getting off the train on late afternoon, heading for a little B&B in a little old world town. There was a path through a potato farm I was told by another backpacker at the station. Â It was about dusk when I could see the lights from the little town but the fog started rolling in. Â It blanketed the ground about up to my knees and my mind began to race… American Werewolf in London! Â I began to pick up the pace and arrived just as it got dark. Â I was offered a warm, dark beer by the Inn keeper and calmed my frazzled nerves and had a laugh with some other guests about my :close encounter… in my mind and imagination… with the werewolf…
The next day I took stock of my dwindling supplies… including my last $20! I had three days to go and was gonna STARVE!! Â I spent the morning and most of the afternoon wandering around the countryside, trying to devise a plan to make some money FAST! Â I knew it wasn’t gonna happen in this little farming town so I hiked to the next train station and headed for Frankfurt.
I arrived in Frankfurt and after some good advice received from a fellow traveler… I proceeded to a popular bar for my last meal of Bangers and Mash. Â I sat at the bar and asked the bar keep for some advice on getting a short term temporary job. Â I explained my situation and he said he’d see if he could help. A finely dressed gentleman came up and sat next to me at the bar and ordered me a stein of beer and proceeded to “interview” me. He said he was the manager of a huge, expensive hotel in town and they had a few employees call in sick. He told me he’d give me $500 USD if I would do what ever he needed for 12 hours… the evening and night shift. We shook and I told him he had a deal… short of sex! Â We laughed and he took me to the hotel, got me a uniform and a shower… I washed dishes, took people luggage to their rooms, room service and more dishes. Â It was a long 12 hours with a guy who had a thick accent and didn’t speak very good English but could point very well. Â I finished my shift, thanked the manager and was off to the train station again.
I spent the next two days visiting Belgium and The Netherlands and then back to London.
This was a once in a lifetime trip and it was the one that whet my whistle for travel.
Daily Prompt:Passport

That’s incredible! Most adventurous you are.. 🙂
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That truly is a story 🙂 Makes travel that much more special when you have such stories in your kitty. In hindsight, you must smile at them.
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Oh yes. I have to laugh at my crazy self back in those days.
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Ah it is only when you are crazy that you have such stories. That Kerouac quote you know – “the only people for me are the mad ones…” 🙂
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Love it!!
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