European Trip 1991 - Part Two

Characters have been combined and events have been condensed. These are my memories; I am the teller of my own story. Certain episodes are imaginative recreation. To protect the privacy of others, names have been changed and characters conflated. Etc.



   I was to be staying with the Martinez family for the next two days until my departure for Paris. The Martinez family consisted of Emilio, the father, his wife Sandra and their two teenage daughters Tina and Vanessa.  This was definitely more of a typical American household and I was shown nothing but hospitality since the moment I had arrived. The aroma of Mexican cuisine permeated the house as it bustled with activity. There were people laughing, girls bickering over the telephone and kids from neighboring units stopping by to see who the new visitor was. As with most base communities, there were plenty of young people around and they seemed to have a unique and admirable bond that isn't prevalent in regular neighborhoods.

  The oldest daughter, Tina, was somewhat attractive and kept sneaking off to call her boyfriend. I was beginning to think that the chances of anything happening between her and I were slim.  The younger one, Vanessa, was not as pretty or social as her older sister Tina but had a pleasant disposition. There wasn’t any spare room in the house so I was going to be sleeping on the couch in the living room. I situated my stuff away in the corner as the girls helped their mother set the table. I was thrilled to be eating something other than pastries and bratwurst. After dinner, the parents retired to their bedroom and the girls and I stayed up late talking and listening to music as teenagers do. They asked about life back in the states and both girls bombarded me with questions regarding current American trends, fashion and music as if I were the ambassador of American pop culture. It was apparent that they had been in Germany for an extended amount of time and were beginning to feel a disconnection with life as they once knew it.

  Things eventually fizzled down that night, the living room was devoid of music and Vanessa had fallen asleep on the floor. Tina and I continued with our conversation in a light whisper, she didn’t hesitate to close the distance between us on the couch. As she kept readjusting her hair, she innocently probed into whether or not I had a girlfriend waiting for me back in New Mexico. Now that her inhibitions had been lowered, I thought it would be an opportune time to ask if she knew anyone there on base that could hook me up with some weed. I mustered up the confidence and asked her. Tina recoiled back, her eyes widened as her jaw dropped open. I was holding my breath, trying to anticipate her reaction. She eventually grinned and giggled as if she couldn’t believe that I was asking her that, I guess my innocent looks and tourist gear had thrown her off.  “Do you have any right now!?” she asked in a now excited voice. “No! I wouldn’t be asking you to hook me up if I had some on me now would I?” We both laughed for a few seconds but her smile was soon replaced with a look of disappointment. She was bummed that I didn’t have any for us to immediately smoke. I could see that she was bored, not bored right then but generally bored with the way things were. Tina wasn’t content with her life there on base in Germany and saw me as an out, an opportunity to maybe add some excitement to her life. “I could introduce you to some guys I know in the morning, they can help you out” she replied.

   The next morning, Tina made a phone call and soon after, we were making our way across base on foot. Traversing through a maze of identical looking housing units, she was introducing me to people that were popping in and out of windows along the way. “Yes! This is him! The guy visiting from the States!” she would say. Finally, we reached our destination and by this time, I had become quite anxious. She knocked on the door, which looked like every other door on that base, and we were let in by a taller white dude with blonde hair. His name was Sean, he was about eighteen years old with a bowl haircut and weird looking mustache. Strange looking guy, he reminded me of Hitler but with blond hair. He walked us into the living room where he and his friend were laid up watching an episode of CHiPs.  I sat down in one of the available chairs facing the television. His buddy, Rueben, was a smaller Cuban guy that was about the same age as Sean. He had curly black hair with a thin moustache and goatee. “What’s up man!?” he said to me through a haze of cigarette smoke as he twirled a butterfly knife in one hand.

There was a familiar tension in the room that naturally comes along when attempting to buy drugs from people that you’ve just met. Sean sat down and threw his feet up on the coffee table. They both started in on me with inquiries like “So where you from?” and “Where you stayin’ at?” I didn’t feel like going through another round of twenty questions, all I wanted to do was score some weed and get the fuck out of there. Rueben, who now reminds me of Scarface from the comedy film “Half Baked,” was lounging on the couch and kept laughing at everything . It was beginning to make me feel uncomfortable. Tina was aimlessly wandering about in the living room, fiddling with random objects of interest. She was wearing a pair of short running shorts that exposed a good portion of her legs.

 “So Tina tells me that you guys can hook me up with some weed” I said in a very direct fashion. Almost immediately, Rueben erupts into laughter like some kind of wild hyena. “Get a load of this kid Sean! LOL! He’s hilarious right!? Right Sean!? LOL!” he yelped as he repeatedly looked to Sean for reassurance. Without taking his eyes off of the television set, Sean takes a drag off of his cigarette and tells me in a calm voice while exhaling smoke “Relax man, just chill out for little bit, we’ll get to that.” They looked at each other, chuckled and shook their heads in revulsion to my display impatience and lack of etiquette.

  I settled back in my chair, took a deep breath and slowed my pace. There was a sudden knock on the door, Sean leaped up and peered the peep hole. “Vanessa!? Hey Tina, your little sister’s at my door.” He unlocked and opened the door up, there stood Vanessa with her arms folded “Mom wants you to come home right now Tina!” she shouted from the doorway. “Do you remember how to get back?” Tina asked me as she made her way towards the door.  I assured her that I wouldn’t have any trouble finding my way back and they both scurried off down the hall.

Sean returned to his recliner and dug into the front pocket of his jeans. His cigarette was hanging from his mouth and ashes were dropping onto his t-shirt. He finally retrieved a small disk shaped object that was wrapped in tin foil, about the size of a silver dollar. He placed it on the coffee table and slowly began to unwrap it. “You ever smoke any hash kid?” he asked me as he reached over and commandeered the butterfly knife from Rueben. “Uhh no man, just..just weed” I responded. “Heat the stove up Rueben!” exclaimed Sean as he partitioned off small pieces of hash with the butterfly knife. Rueben jumped up, grabbed two knives from a drawer in the kitchen, positioned them in the rings of the stove and fired it up. We all huddled around and waited for the knives to heat up. It was exciting, this was completely new to me and the whole process seemed bizarre. Once the knives were hot enough, Sean carefully prepared my first knife hit of hash. “This stuff right here is Moroccan hash.” He placed a small chunk of it on the hot blade of one knife and then immediately squished down on it with the hot blade of the other knife. As he mashed the two blades together, the hash began to smolder. I used a cardboard tube from an empty paper towel roll to capture and inhale the rising smoke. Holy fuck! I felt the affect almost instantly after the first hit. It was potent stuff and after a few more rips, my head was spinning. I was used to smoking dirt weed from New Mexico, not premium quality, full melt hash from Morocco!

   We ended up smoking a rather large amount of hash that afternoon. They then invited me with them to the local theater on base, where we met up with some female acquaintances of theirs. After being introduced, we purchased our tickets for the matinee and headed inside. These girls weren’t anything special and I was so ripped that even if they were hot, I wouldn’t have been able to make any advances. After the film, we all walked over to the bowling alley and hung out in the video game arcade. Rueben and Sean kept secretly pointing to one of the girls and making sexual gestures with their hands, “She’s a tiger man! I think she wants you!” Rueben whispered to me with a duplicitous grin. I was still pretty high from the hash and the lights and sounds coming from the video games had me in a daze. The girls eventually got bored and left, we stuck around to play a few more video games and then bailed. On the way back to Sean’s place, I explained to him that I was catching a bus to Paris the next day and would like to take some hash with me. It was dark out and we were walking through what seemed to be a baseball field. “Yea man, sure, that’s cool” he said as he took the last drag from his cigarette and flicked into the night.  When we made it back to his place, I gave him forty American dollars and he broke me off a few grams. I thanked them both for showing me a good time and told them that I would be in touch once I returned from Paris.

    I have no recollection of how I managed to find my way back to the Martinez house that night but I made it back. By then, I was suffering from a severe case of the munchies and was trying not to make any direct eye contact with anyone there in the house, fearing they would notice my red eyes. Of course Tina was hip to everything that was going on, she was pacing around the house, chatting with her boyfriend on the telephone.  I had a few bites to eat and watched some television on the couch. Before it got too late, I situated the hash and pipe away in my fanny pack and turned off the television.  As I lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, I tried to imagine what Paris was going to be like and began to mentally prepare myself for the journey.

   The Martinez family drove me to the bus station early the next morning. I was a bit groggy and felt like I had a hangover. When we arrived at the bus station, there were many other Americans there that were also waiting for the bus. It wasn’t long before the bus arrived and we were on our way.  It was about a four hour bus ride to Paris, I slept most of the way. I woke up to the passenger sitting next to me poking at me and saying “Hey wake up kid, we're in Paris now!” I stretched my legs out, rubbed my eyes and leaned over to look out the window. The first thing that I immediately noticed was the how filthy the place was. There was trash, graffiti and shit everywhere! I was stoked on the graffiti but a little taken back by the amount of litter that was strewn about in the streets. There were newspapers drifting about and plastic bags clinging onto fences. The driver stopped the bus in a central location and gave us all a time to meet back. So I pretty much had all day to wander around Paris, take photos and smoke hash. All that I had to do was make sure that I was back in time to catch the bus back to Germany. At the top of my list of priorities, was finding a place to eat some decent food. I hadn’t made any new friends on the bus and wasn’t looking to either. I operate much better when I am alone. As I began searching for a place to eat on foot, I became nauseated by the overwhelming stench of piss that was thick in the air. I soon lost my appetite, gave up on my search and opted to smoke some hash for lunch.

   Following the flow of foot traffic through the city, I found myself approaching the Eiffel Tower.  Now here’s the funny thing, I didn’t give a flying fuck about the Eiffel Tower. The skateboard film “Video Days” had just been released earlier that year which depicted skateboard legends Jason Lee and the Gonz skating a drained out pond underneath the Eiffel Tower. I was much more interested in seeing this pond rather than the Eiffel Tower. I stopped in Parc du Champs Mars to smoke some hash before advancing any further on the tower. Parc du Champs Mars is a park that is located underneath the Eiffel Tower. I found an empty bench and packed my wooden pipe with some hash. There were people everywhere, it was insane! I was trying to be as discreet as possible.  I was in no rush and had a great view of the tower from where I was sitting. Yes, this was it! Taking hash rips in Parc du Champs Mars while gazing at the Eiffel Tower. It was truly a surreal experience and I was savoring every second.

 I eventually wandered over to the tower and began looking around for the pond. Funny now that I think about it, there were hundreds of people all around me that had traveled many miles to come see this tower and there I was searching for, what would seem to most, an irrelevant pond in comparison to the Eiffel Tower. It was kind of like the scene from the film “Pee Wee’s Big Adventure” when Pee Wee is at the Alamo asking to see the basement. It didn’t take me long before I found myself standing in front of the pond. Of course, it was now filled with water but I was positive that it was the same pond that Gonz and Jason Lee had skated in “Video Days." I stood there studying the curves of the concrete rim that was exposed just above the water line. “Dude, that’s where Gonz did that huge frontside grab over the hip!” I thought to myself. I marveled at the pond for a little longer and took a few photos of the Eiffel Tower. I didn’t even bother taking a ride up to the top. I was content with just seeing that pond and decided to keep moving.

   I stumbled upon some boats that were docked nearby so I purchased a ticket for a cruise through the heart of Paris on the Seine River. A slow moving river that flows from Dijon in the Alps, the Seine River joins the sea at Le Havre on the French coast. As we floated through the city, I saw some of Paris’s most famous landmarks including the Notre Dame, the Louvre, the Musée d'Orsay and the Pont Neuf which is the oldest bridge that crosses the Seine. It was a very relaxing cruise and I was thoroughly enjoying myself. By the time we got back to the Eiffel Tower, it was almost time to meet back at the bus. On my way back to the bus, I stopped to grab a sandwich and something to drink. It was almost like I had taken a mini-vacation within my regular sized vacation. I had a great time though.  Paris was a beautiful city but I wasn’t sure how much longer I would be able to stomach the horrible smell. I met back with our group and boarded the bus and just like that, we were on our way back to Germany.


To be continued...

   

Recorded Cassette Tape from 1989

   Behold! The oldest recorded cassette tape from my dilapidated music collection. It's been stored away at my mothers house for all these years. She sent it to me recently so I've decided to write a blog about it, a type of memoir.

   After listening to the tape and doing some research on each track. It looks as if I put this tape together back around the summer of 1989. The track listing is pretty diverse and I still listen to some of these songs on a regular basis. You can click on the title of the each song if you would like to listen.

SIDE 1:

1. Sid & Nancy Soundtrack - I Wanna Be Your Dog performed by Gary Oldman

2. Sid & Nancy Soundtrack - Chinese Choppers performed by Pray for Rain

3. Sid & Nancy Soundtrack  - Love Kills performed by the Circle Jerks

4. Youth of Today - Take A Stand

5. Youth of Today - Honesty

6. Social Distortion - Ball and Chain

7. Excel - Blaze Some Hate

8. Edie Brickell & the New Bohemians - What I Am

9. Nitzer Ebb - Join In the Chant

SIDE 2:

1. Sid & Nancy Soundtrack - Love Kills performed by Joe Strummer

2. Sid & Nancy Soundtrack - My Way performed by Gary Oldman

3. Sonic Youth - Schizophrenia

4. Red Hot Chili Peppers - Taste the Pain

5. Red Hot Chili Peppers - Pretty Little Ditty

6. Faith No More - Epic

7. Sex Pistols - God Save the Queen

European Trip 1991 - Part One

Characters have been combined and events have been condensed. These are my memories; I am the teller of my own story. Certain episodes are imaginative recreation. To protect the privacy of others, names have been changed and characters conflated. Etc.



   Growing up in the hot and dry South Eastern desert of New Mexico during the early 90’s was an interesting experience to say the least. In 1991, I was fifteen years old and living with my mother on the South side of Roswell. It was a year plagued with grunge music, flannel tops, and a surplus of teen spirit. My life was a psychedelic whirlwind of drugs, skateboarding, graffiti and sexual debauchery. Although I was heavily immersed in the skateboard sub-culture, I had begun spending more time getting into trouble and partying with my friends. While other kids were at home playing with their Super Nintendo or trying out for the high school basketball team, my friends and I were out skating the streets, tagging and dropping acid twice a week.

   I was attending a private school that year and summer was quickly approaching.  I had some extended family that was living in Germany at the time, my aunt Liz, her two teen daughters Alexandra and Nadja.  Aunt Liz is my dad’s sister and I knew her and my cousins from previous family events but she had recently remarried and was living with some new guy whom I’d never met. My mother thought that it would be a great opportunity for me to travel to Europe and stay with Aunt Liz for a couple of weeks during the summer. Although I had done some traveling with my mother in the past, I’d never been to Europe and the thought of going alone intrigued me. There was definitely a part of me that wanted to stay in Roswell and spend the summer skateboarding with my friends rather than dorking out with some distant relatives in Germany. I eventually agreed and after acquiring the appropriate documents, arrangements were made for me to fly out of El Paso International Airport. I was bringing the usual traveling amenities with me and anything else that was deemed essential. What I distinctly remember about preparing for my trip to Germany was that instead of packing up my skateboard, skate shoes and regular apparel, I decided to change up my style and bring some clothes that actually fit properly. I picked up some short cargo shorts, a few conservative looking polo shirts, a fanny pack and the ugliest pair of K-Swiss walking shoes that were currently being produced. In retrospect, this type of clothing would have probably been worn by any average tourist but in my mind, I was shooting for something completely opposite of who I was and the life that I was living. If was gonna go dorking around Germany, I might as well go full dork, right?

   Amongst the other items that I had prepared for travel was a smoking pipe that my father had personally given me earlier that year. It was a simple, rectangular wooden pipe that I had already used to smoke weed many times before. Haphazardly, I threw it in a plastic zip lock bag, neatly folded and tucked it away in the front compartment of my suitcase. Figuring that I would have an ample amount of time to retrieve it from my luggage once in El Paso, my plan was to transfer the pipe from the suitcase to the front pocket of my shorts before boarding the plane. So without any regard for airport security or customs, I made the decision that I was going to carry this stinky pipe with me all the way to Germany in the front pocket of my cargo shorts. Things moved pretty quickly after arriving in El Paso and I wasn’t able to break away from my mother long enough to grab the pipe from my luggage. I soon found myself being taxied to the airport and I was becoming a bit nervous, I had no idea what would happen if airport security were to discover the drug paraphernalia that was concealed in my luggage. If I didn’t get to it in time, I would be forced to hand it over to them at the check in counter. We arrived at the El Paso International Airport and it seemed like an eternity walking through the parking lot as my mother and I made our way to the terminal. I was praying for some type of distraction to divert my mom’s attention long enough so that I could make the switch but nothing happened. We entered the terminal and without any delay, we walked straight up to the check in counter. An older, rather attractive Mexican lady greeted us and asked for my ticket. After mindlessly punching away at the keyboard for what seemed like another eternity, she refocused her pretty brown eyes back on me and asked for my luggage. The sweat on my brow must have been visible at this point, my breath became uneven and my posture slightly changed. As I nervously looked back and forth between my mother and her, I could see the growing look of concern in their faces. “Please excuse me for a moment” I said as I slowly backed up clutching my suitcase, I heard my mother tell the lady “Sorry about this, he has a fear of flying.” I retreated back to the sliding doors at the terminal entrance and began to frantically dig for the pipe in the front compartment of the suitcase. I was trying not to bring any more attention to myself than I already had. Once I had it in my hand, I discreetly slid it into the right front pocket of my shorts. I managed to get everything squared away and promptly returned back to the counter. Walking back with a new found confidence, I smiled at the lady as if nothing had just happened and without any reluctance, handed over my suitcase. I am assuming the fact that I was a fifteen year old kid was the only reason that airport security wasn’t alerted about my suspicious behavior. I proceeded through each security checkpoint without any further complications, arrived at my gate on time and boarded the plane.

   After multiple flight transfers and delays, I arrived in Frankfurt, Germany. The length of the flight had just about made me crazy and I was desperate to get off the plane. After disembarking the aircraft, I stopped to sit down for a second so that I could gather my senses. I was suffering from motion sickness and was beginning to feel fatigued. It wasn’t long after sitting down that I heard some heavy footsteps headed in my direction. It sounded menacing and as I gradually lifted my head, I saw the combat boots of three German soldiers walking my way. These guys looked dangerous and I quickly became aware of the sub-machines that were slung around their shoulders. This was the first time in my life that I had seen soldiers armed with machine guns patrolling the inside of an airport. I would later learn that security had recently been beefed up due to certain threats that were present during that time. One of the guards looked at me for a brief moment and I tried to look as if I wasn’t at all moved by their presence. The thought of having to explain to my aunt that I was being detained because I was caught carrying drug paraphernalia was unbearable. As soon as they were out of sight, I located a map nearby and searched for an exit. As I was making my way through one of the gated areas, I caught the attention of a security guard. He approached me and began to lightly interrogate me about my destination. As if this wasn’t bad enough, he starts to frisk me! He must have felt the muscles in my leg tense up as his hands slid up and around my front pockets. His left hand immediately zeroed in on the pipe that was in the right front pocket of my shorts. As he grasped it through the outside of my shorts, he kept trying to define it with his fingers.  He then asks me with a firm voice and heavy German accent “Vhat is dis?” I felt as if I was about to come unglued right then but managed to keep my composure. I looked him in the eyes and told him that it was a keychain. After a momentary pause, he waived me through and I made my way to baggage claim. Soon after, I was greeted by my aunt Liz and her husband David near the terminal exit. It was getting late and it had been a very long and stressful day. We got the luggage situated in the car and commenced with our journey back to their house which was just about an hour South of Frankfurt.

   My aunt and her husband lived in the city of Worms. The name is of Celtic origin and is pronounced “Vorms”. One of Germany’s oldest cities, Worms has a population of about eighty five thousand people and is situated in the Rhine valley on the Western banks of the Rhine River. My aunt Liz had been living there for quite some time. A soft spoken woman, fluent in English, German, and Spanish, she carried herself well. Taller than most other women, she had a thin build, long dark hair with high cheek bones. A previous marriage had brought her to Germany and after a divorce, she decided to stay there and continue working on the American base in Worms. She had been living in Germany for so long that I was unable to detect any remanence of her New Mexican upbringing. Even when she spoke English, it was with a thick German accent. Her new husband David, who also worked on the base, seemed like an alright guy. Right off the bat, he explained to me that I was old enough to drink alcohol in Germany and then proceeded to instruct me on how to order beer in German. Contrary to what some people may believe, it was sound advice for a fifteen year old at that particular time and place. Although David hadn’t assimilated into German culture like Aunt Liz, he was a big fan of German beer, a connoisseur of sorts. His favorite brand was Kristallweizen and he suggested that I drink that during my stay.

   The morning after arriving in Germany, we all sat at the table for breakfast. It was the first time that I had seen my cousins Alexandra and her younger sister Nadja in years. They were both born and raised in Germany but we had met on several different occasions back in New Mexico as children. They were truly excited to see me and they had grown so much since the last time that I had seen them. They were constantly exchanging looks, giggling and whispering to each other in German as we ate our breakfast. Alexandra was the same age as me and spoke some English. Nadja was somewhat of a tomboy and spoke even less English than Alexandra. They lived with their father on the other side of the city but had come to stay with their mother for the occasion. Alexandra seemed to have a certain interest in me and was obviously excited to have an American boy staying with them. I would be lying if I said there weren’t a few taboo looks that were being exchanged between her and I at the table that morning.

   We finished up with breakfast and David showed me around the interior and exterior areas of their house. It was a very German type of house in a very German looking neighborhood on the outskirts of the city. It seemed appropriate that they lived off base being that my aunt Liz considered herself to be German and not American. I wasn’t quite sure where the hell I was but it felt rural, I could smell it in the air. David and I snuck away for short drive through the surrounding area which consisted of mostly vineyards, beautiful vineyards with varying shades of green that stretched in every direction. As we drove, David explained to me about the wine culture having a very strong presence in Worms and how it has been a 2000 year old tradition in that area. As I listened and gazed across the vineyards, I began to feel a deep sense of independence and freedom that I had never quite experienced before. It was exciting to be so far away from home and away from my sometimes overbearing mother. When we returned to the house, he grabbed a couple of beers from the refrigerator and took me down into the basement where he kept his airbrush paintings and equipment. It was a decent size workspace that was filled with a plethora of finished works that he had painted himself. He handed me a beer with one hand as he positioned his favorite Tommy James and the Shondells record on the turntable with the other. ”So what type of music do you listen to Damian?” he casually inquired. A truly unique man, David had a mullet that coordinated with his furry beard. He wore a fanny pack and Birkenstocks as if he were the one on vacation. We must have spent the next hour or so going through all of his airbrush paintings. They were mostly beach scenes with dolphins and things of that nature, not really to my liking but he was definitely talented at what he did.

   After becoming acquainted with things there at the house, I spent the next few days dorking around the city on foot. Both my Aunt Liz and David worked during the day so I would be dropped off in the center of the city early in the morning and they would pick me up later in the day when they got out of work. I spent a considerable amount of time exploring the city, taking pictures of local graffiti and guzzling down half liter glasses of Kristallweizen . I was surrounded by some of the finest High Romanesque architecture in the entire country. Gothic looking cathedrals and cobblestone pathways that, at times, made me feel as if I had stepped through a time warp. Trinity Church, the time disk in Market Square, home to five Romanesque churches and one of the three great imperial cathedrals on the Upper Rhine, Worms is truly a fascinating place. One morning in particular, I was trying find a decent place to eat some breakfast but all that Worms had to offer me was pastries. Block after block, an abundance of pastry shops. I began to lose hope that I would ever find anything to fulfill my early morning American appetite.  As I rounded the next corner, I was astonished to find a McDonalds. There they were, as plain as day, those golden arches staring right back at me! Already fantasizing about sausage biscuits and hash browns as I walked through the front doors, I impatiently scanned the menu for breakfast items but quickly realized that there were none. There was no way that I had missed breakfast, it was eight o’ clock in the morning! Something wasn’t right. One of the employees that spoke English noticed my distress and informed that breakfast isn’t served at McDonalds in Germany. I’m thinking “What the fuck!? That’s some of the most backwards shit that I’ve ever heard!”  I settled for a Big Mac, headed to the nearest bar and washed it down with a beer.

   I had learned about some day trip tours that were available through a travel agency located on base and decided to look into it. I stopped in at the travel agency and went through some of the brochures that they had on display. Two places in particular that caught my attention were Paris and Amsterdam. “Man, if I could only make it to Amsterdam”, I thought, “They’ve got some high quality weed in Amsterdam and I might even have enough time in one day to get a prostitute!” Later that day, I took the brochures with me back to the house and presented them to Aunt Liz and David. Needless to say, they tried to discourage any ideas that I had about going to Amsterdam and insisted that I visit Paris instead. Not willing to give up on Amsterdam, I attempted to plead with them and reassure them that I would stay out of trouble if I were allowed to go. They held their position and were adamant about me not going to Amsterdam.  The next day, I purchased my ticket for Paris and was instructed to meet back in two days at the bus station there on base. Aunt Liz told me about some close friends of hers that lived on base and explained that I should stay with them for the next two days until my bus departs for Paris. I have to say that it was a bit strange and I felt a little as if I were being dumped off on some total strangers but hey, it added to the excitement of my trip.

To be continued...

Introduction

Hello and thank you for visiting my blog page. I will be using this as a platform to practice my creative writing skills. I will also be posting my memoirs, art, short stories, videos, haikus, photos and other works as frequently as possible. -Please subscribe!