One thing I’ve learned from travelers while traveling is that it never hurts to knock on a friend of a friend’s door.
Summer of ’87…
We had met Anja in Italy while visiting Zan and PJ a couple years prior. Anja and her friend Claudia were on a road trip camping through the Alps into Italy from Germany. The two of them knocked on Zan’s door and said they needed a shower. Come on in!
After traveling for two months in Europe, Hali and I knocked on Zan’s door. “Whaddya mean you’ve been staying in hostels. You need a proper shower.” Come on in!
Two years later, a friend of a friend, Oliver and Marcus, knock on our door in Cupertino after traveling up from Los Angeles needing a place to stay for “couple of days”. Come on in!
That couple of days turned out to be more like a couple of months and one of the best summers ever. A summer I learned quite a bit from fellow travelers. These guys knew how to have a good time. A time when Budweiser was King of Beers. Tuna fish on pizza was better than pepperoni. Shopping for party clothes at the thrift shop before going out was totally acceptable. Mostly what I learned is that you can count on these guys being there when you come knockin’ on their door.
On our summer tour of Europe with Carli after her high school graduation, our train was passing through Oliver’s town on our way up from Munich to Amsterdam. Knock, knock! Who’s there? Mike and Hali. Come on in!
That night Oliver called over Marcus, Dirk and another fella who had visited us in Portland when Carli was little and we had dinner and a place to lay our head for the night. No pizza with tuna just a good old-fashioned backyard BBQ. No Budweiser but twenty-two 22oz. bottles of every kind of beer Oliver could gather from his local biergarten.
We shared old photos, funny stories, reminisced, and partied late into the night just like we had done twenty-five years earlier. This time though, we were just passing through and Oliver kindly got us to the train station the next morning.
Later on that day, while fumbling through my pack, I found a couple 22oz. bottles of beer stashed in my pack. Whoa! You mean we didn’t drink it all!
Thanks Oliver and friends for the good times…Prost!