Fin...

A another mad dash for a train. Heart pounding and out of breath. Racing along the Rhine in the pre-dawn hours. A layer of hazy fog lays softly over the city giving the landscape a diffused dream-like quality. The sky the color of a ripe peach. And the sweet voice of a melodic song in my ear.

Slowly a blood orange fireball rises over the hill in the east. I can't recall the last time I watched the sunrise. As it claws it's way higher into the sky, it wraps itself in powder white clouds that stretch out to infinity like a royal cloak of some mythical sky god.

Spring has come to Switzerland. Everywhere is see flowers in bloom and surprisingly dozens of cherry trees whose white blossoms ironically make them appeared covered in snow and frost.

A yawn escapes my mouth and I realize how so very tired I am. But it's a type of content exhaustion because earned by living life as fully as I could, at least for a short while.

Originally Chris was suppose to take the train with me back to Zurich, but we decided it was unnecessary. He was obvious tired and I didn't mind a solitary hour to reflect.

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Last Leg...

Some trips end by gently fading to black and others keep you on the edge of your seat right till the last moment. After an afternoon of drinking in a pub with Chris and his brother Hen, we caught a free bus back to Heathrow with what seemed like an ample amount of time to spare. We couldn't have been more wrong.

It turns out that both of us were carrying contraband items in our carry on luggage. Chris had a liter of water in a Nalgene bottle and I had a Swiss army knife I thought I lost three years ago. But in order for them to find those items, they had to completely unpack both our bags. The entire process took upwards of twenty minutes and our flight had already finished boarding save us.

We raced down the escalators toward our gate where two flight attendants were trying to figure out how to pronounce my first name for final boarding call. We were the last passengers to board and as the aircraft latched closed behind us, our hearts were racing from the mad sprint we had just completed.

I'm sure it might seem hectic and a little like tempting fate continuously, but I don't think it would be us if we traveled any other way. It's probably how we can stand traveling together for so long. I guess that counts for something.

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A Literary Significance...

One of my favorite fantasy series is A Song of Ice and Fire by George R.R. Martin. The story is set in an imaginary island nation called the Seven Kingdoms. The capital city of the kingdoms is called King's Landing, the site where a conquering king first came ashore from the mainland set on conquering the whole of the isle. And in this city he built a great fortress overlooking the river that divided the city called the Red Keep. But what on earth does this have to do with being in London?

Two days ago, Chris and I visited the tower of London, the fortress William the Conqueror built in London overlooking the River Thames after he came over from Normandy in his conquest of England. Martin has said in many interviews that the events in his series are inspired by Britain's War of the Roses.

Standing beside it's towering cream colored curtain walls, I easily imagine the Red Keep Martin described incased in blood red stone and adorned with dragons.

There were many places along my travels that have evoked a deep historical significance such as the beaches of Normandy but this was one of the first places I was able to feel a deep literary meaning. Definitely something to be remembered.

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Beneath the Mountain...

I went into a mine once, a silver mine in Bolivia. It was probably some of the harshest conditions I've ever witnessed first hand. There were boys no older than 14 working besides old men with bent backs. And outside, wizened women sift through the scrap with nothing but a small rock hammer and a bag of cocoa leaves to dull the pain.

I recall vividly the feeling of having tons of rock and earth above my head. It was almost suffocating and the dark wet walls felt closer than they were.

At the moment I'm passing beneath the Alps through a tunnel the Swiss have cut straight though the mountains and I remembered that familiar feeling. Outside there is nothing but blackness and the ambient light of the train reflecting softly off dark stone as it races by.

And then suddenly, almost as if a blindfold had been removed, the darkness is replaced with lush green Swiss valleys and white capped mountains against a stark blue sky. Red tiled roofs and ash brick churches nestle peacefully alongside wide lakes that are almost painfully blue.

Every time I see something new, I still feel that awestruck sensation I got the first time I stepped off a plane somewhere distant and different. If nothing else, I am deeply grateful for that.

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Coming Into Focus...

One thing I desperately wanted to get out of this trip was more clarity in not only where I currently am in life but maybe more importantly where I want to be heading.

I've found that leaving all the external pressures of your life behind has an extraordinary way of giving you a clearer perspective. Plus the advice and opinion of a good friend never hurts either.

And so as I bounce around Europe, thoughts are constantly flying around my head. What parts of my life are working, which could use improvement, and which are completely broken?

I know these are things I should think about at times besides when I'm on vacation but too often I get caught up in the mundane hustle of everyday life.

After a long day at the grindstone, I sometimes feel like I'm the one that has been worn down to a nub. With the task of cooking dinner and other errands looming, the last thing I want to do is take a close look at my life.

But out here, there's a lot of time to think. There are long train rides, quiet and lazy afternoons in a cafe by the Rhine, or a solitary ride through the Dutch countryside. And I've been doing my best to take advantage.

Some decisions were surprisingly easy, others not so much. I've been making lists (as I have been known to do) and writing in my journal or typing in my iPhone. Not all things have been considered or decided but there's still time left to question, ponder and dream.

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A City of Water in Ice...

The first thing about Venice you notice besides the canals and ornate boats tied to colorful poles is the complete lack of cars, buses and even bikes.

My guide book says not only has Venice been a tourist trap for over four centuries but it remains Europe's most historically preserved city.

Looking around, if you ignore small things like cell phones, digital cameras and the thin white cords of iPods hanging from everyone's ears, it's easy to imagine Venice much the same, even centuries ago.

People would have flood to it's narrow streets and tall drooping buildings of fading bricks and green shutters from all over the known world to pay too much for cruises around the canals or to sample the local gelato.

It's an interesting place for the mere fact that it exists now only as a spectacle. There is no real industry here save tourism. There are few locals except the employees of Venice's countless hotels, shops, restaurants and pubs. Everywhere mobs of tourists filter through it's maze of streets.

All the cities I've visited this far have been living, breathing, growing cities. Venice is like the past frozen in time, preserved artificially by tourism dollars.

I'm glad I came to see and experience it but I can't imagining spending any length of time here. We leave tomorrow for a seven hour train ride through the Alps back to Switzerland.

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One Chance Too Many...

Taking chances is part of the adventure of traveling and depending on how bound you are to a preset itinerary, your range of risk will vary greatly. For Chris and I, we prefer to fly semi-blind and wing the majority of it.

It's standard operating procedure to not have any clue about lodging when arrive at a new location. We also don't plan when or how we're leaving. And we always opt for a self-guided, at our own pace tour.

This type of traveling is definitely not for everyone. And there are times when even we question the wisdom of it. But the travel gods are typically kind and things have a way of working out for the best.

We somehow manage to get where we're going and to find a decent place to stay once we get there. Well, in Amsterdam, karma finally caught up with us.

We decided to rent a couple of bikes, the prefered method of travel for the Dutch, and ride out to the countryside to see some windmills and rolling hills.

The only restriction was we had to be back in the city before five to pick up our laundry. The laundry mat was closed on Sunday and we were flying out Sunday night.

Well it's not hard to guess how this story ends. Running short on time, I told Chris, a much stronger rider, to go on ahead. I would continue back to Amsterdam alone.

I got lost multiple times and there was one unfortunate incident where I ended up riding on a freeway, but I finally made it back to our hotel two hours later.

Upon entering our room, I fully expected Chris to be waiting there with our clothes but I was in store for a disappointment.

My favorite pair of jeans. My favorite sweater. All my undershirts, boxers and socks. It was quite a blow to take. As Chris gave me a wave goodbye, indicating I should kiss my stuff goodbye, my heart sank.

Luckily there's a semi-happy ending to this sad tale. The hotel clerk agreed to pick up our clothes on Monday and ship them to Chris' place in Switerland. So with any luck, our stuff will be waiting for us when we get back in time to board.

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Trains, Planes and Automobiles...

Call me a romantic but I've always been a sucker for trains. There's just something intangible about traveling by rail. Something both old and new at the same time.

Trains were the first modern conveyance that truly change the scale of the world and how people saw distance. They shrunk the gap between places and brought people together in a way like never before.

But unlike by car, people traveling by train are face to face with their fellow travelers. Conversations spring up spontaneously as people gratefully pick up fragments of their native language whether it be French, German or English. Tales and smiles are exchanged with frequency and ease.

An automobile is literally a bubble of steel and glass that infer upon it's drivers both a sense of invincibility and invisibility. People can lose themselves behind the wheel of a car. It can be an isolating experience.

Rail travel across Europe is as pervasive as car travel is in California. I've lost track of the number of trains, trams and subways I've been on since touching down in Switzerland. As far as I can tell, it's efficient, affordable and comfortable.

So as I watch the picturesque French countryside roll by at speeds the Amtrak trains back home can only dream of, I can only hope that such a high speed rail system is not too far off in our future.

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