Our current plan was to go to Rome. It only made sense for me to move closer to Luxembourg as I searched for any creative way to extend my stay. A month had been interesting, but not world-changing. Maybe six months or a year would be a different story, But that seemed totally out of reach.
It would take us six to eight days overland to get to Rome. I guessed by the time I arrived in Rome, I’d have about $10 left to my name and no way home.
It was also possible to get almost all the way to Rome by boat. We could take the bus to Patras, then a boat for a day or two to the Italian port of Brindisi, and then another bus to Rome or, if Italy allowed it, we could hitchhike to Rome. But we figured the boat might cost more than would be wise for me to spend. Even with a short stay in Rome, I’d have to hope the currency markets were going my way because I would barely have enough to pay for an Icelandic plane ride home. And no money after landing in New York City.
The more I thought about it, the more I hated my predicament. I wanted to stay; I wanted to explore; I wanted adventure. By now I had been seriously bitten by the travel bug. I wondered, Should I go for glory or play it safe? I’d met several travelers from Australia, and they talked glowingly about their beautiful country. Australia would be adventure with a capital A. I’d been told that the government there would pay your way and set you up in some profession or another. Being almost halfway around the world was impressive; Australia would be almost three-fourths of the way around the globe. Maybe I could get a job on a boat, sail the Mediterranean, around Africa and India to Australia. Unfortunately, these prospects were based on specific things happening, and if they didn’t, I’d be stuck with no money and no way home. Europe was cheaper than the US, but staying in hotels and traveling in trains was not. If I stayed, I’d have to cut my travel costs down to nothing.
But you never know what a new day can bring. That previous night I was in despair, but the next evening I stood on our ship’s bow, exhilarating in the ocean spray on my face. I was elated. I had a new lease on my travel life.
Doug and I had been having a late outdoor café lunch before we bussed to the port for departure when I had two conversations with people at the next table.
The first was a Dutch guy, who quite frankly looked pretty drugged out, but was obviously a traveler. He tapped me on the shoulder as I yet again loudly lamented my predicament. He proceeded to tell me that all I had to do was get to London and go to the American Express office there. Behind the door, he said, was a bulletin board where American travelers to London who decided to stay forever, or at least a long time, would put notices about their cheap return tickets for sale. These tickets, he explained, were well under $100.
That was music to my ears, it was the solution I had been searching for. If I could save maybe $150 on my flight home, I could continue my adventure. Most people, smarter people, wouldn’t have given that spaced-out, long-haired hippie a second thought, but I not only listened, I created a whole new itinerary based on his information. Now, instead of Rome being the stepping-stone to Luxembourg and the States, I was thinking Cannes and the Cannes Film Festival. What a perfect reversal of fortune—from embarrassed return home to consorting with movie stars. Who knows what could happen there?
My second conversation that afternoon was with an American girl who was adamant that I continue my adventure. She had heard that any American who runs out of money and can’t get home has a lifeline. Just go to the American Embassy, she said, and they’ll get you home for free. I didn’t know if she knew that for sure, but it sounded good. I could just imagine thousands of drugged-out young Americans flooding embassies every week, all around the world, saying, “I spent all my money. It’s time to get me home.”
It didn’t seem plausible—but I pocketed the thought.
Regardless, I had a new lease on life. We’d see what Rome would bring, but I had new capital in the game.
Rome
We were kicked out of the Piazza di Trevi, home of the legendary Trevi Fountain, at 3:30 a.m.
The irritated Polizia scolded us:
“This is not a hotel to sleep; it is only for Italian movie producers!”
I was relieved; it was too cold out there anyway.
6.
Me & Michelangelo
10:00 AM, April 30, 1970
The morning sun was scorching when we landed in the Italian port of Brindisi. Our boat trip had lasted about twenty-four hours, and half of those were spent trying to sleep sitting up in a hard-backed chair. We wanted the cheapest ticket possible, and we got what we paid for. The boat ride was miserable but interesting, however.
First, I had discovered duty-free cigarettes. I could buy a carton of ten packs for what two or three packs cost. I bought one carton immediately and planned to buy another before I left the ship.
Next, we weren’t the only ones traveling economy, and our long boat ride gave us the opportunity to talk with young travelers from around the world. I was surprised to hear that most of those I spoke to were traveling without a plan. Some were students with time constraints, but many appeared to be wandering aimlessly with no goal or date set for their return home. Drugs—where to find them, who was selling and for how much—was a constant topic of conversation. I was not opposed to them, but I didn’t go looking for them either. Marijuana had been abundant in college, but it didn’t do much for me. For me, smoking pot was just a way to be social. I had never bought drugs and did not plan to. Other things were more important to me.
It was captivating to hear the stories these fellow travelers told. I had only been in Europe for three weeks, most of the time spent on trains or buses and now boats. There had not been many opportunities to socialize with young people from other countries, but now I was learning more about traveling and the life of travelers than I had in the weeks since I had arrived. There was good news and some most definitely bad. It was a condensed course in World Travel 101, and certain lessons required reading between the lines, especially when discussing hitchhiking and changing money when crossing into new countries.
It was clear young people in Europe were worldlier than their American counterparts. The size and proximity of European countries to each other makes it much easier to travel internationally. I was amazed to find that nearly all these young people spoke at least two languages. I’d enjoyed attempting the language of the countries we had visited so far and wanted to learn another language as soon as I could. Something besides Spanish, which I studied in high school with minimal success.
Little by little I was feeling more comfortable as I traveled: Europe was so different from my hometown, Mount Prospect, Illinois, a suburb of Chicago. I was becoming a traveler, and a pretty good tourist. I had visited so many sites that many only dream of seeing in Paris, Istanbul and Athens. And now I would soon be in Rome—the Coliseum, the Roman Forum and St. Peter’s awaited me. It mystified me that many of my fellow passengers on the boat were more interested in finding drugs than exploring the historic sites of these wonderful countries. I was proud of all that I had seen; I was not a novice anymore. I’d seen Paris, I’d crossed the bridge from Europe to Asia in Istanbul, I’d walked the Acropolis in Athens. I refused to believe that Rome was where my travels would end.
Significant decisions would have to be made in Rome. My calculations about my remaining funds generated great concern. I was way too often pulling out a traveler’s check to cash it. If Rome was the end—well, my heart went much further than Rome, but how could I travel any further on so little?
Besides dealing with my financial worries, I had to decide how I might travel on my own. Whatever my next destination would be, I would go there without Doug. I could sense he thought it was time for us to part, he was being more distant—it was the money thing. He had been a good traveling companion; two heads really had been better than one. I could not have been luckier than to have been able to start my travels with him, and for the rest of my life he would be my “jumping-off-the-train buddy.” When we got to Rome we would have to take a hard look at expenses. I imagined Rome was a very expensive city, and Doug had more