Occasionally, I’ll pull out the journals and photos we kept while backpacking Europe the summer of 1985 just to remind me of the good, sometimes impossible times, we had as rookie travelers.
Remember when traveler cheques were the preferred method of payment while traveling?
Remember when a few foreign coins would get us a minute and a half on a pay phone back to the states?
Remember missing the last bus from Neuschwantstein Castle and having to hitchhike across the border to Austria?
Remember when sleeping in a train station was a lodging option?
Remember when we had to wait for banking hours to go inside the bank in order to exchange currency?
Remember when £2000 lira was $1 US dollar?
Remember when looking for a bed to sleep in Bavaria meant knocking on doors?
Remember eating enough at the Stockholm train station Smörgåsbord to fuel us for a few days?
Remember waiting in line Italian Style (pushing, elbows out, shoving forward) for postcard stamps in a Florence post office?
Remember befriending a German man’s dog then the fella buying us lunch?
Remember when Cinque Terre was full of Italians rather than Americans with Rick Steves’ latest “Backdoor” guidebook?
Remember when a Dutchman met us at the Amsterdam train station with an invitation to a room on his boat-el?
Remember Frommers guidebook Europe on $5 a Day?
Remember rallying an instant circle of strangers while passing time playing hacky-sack?
Remember the impromptu trandtional music session at the Mountain Hostel high in the Swiss Alps?
. . . I remember