Six Days on the Road . . .

Six days into a rip roaring start has confirmed our hunches about this group: they can function on a high level. We’ve had a boy who sprained his ankle, a girl who lost her suitcase (Delta’s mistake), another girl with a fever, and a boy who lost his camera; however, all the kids are coping, helping each other out, and charging on to the next amazing treasure.

We can’t remember a trip that started with the need to develop new stratagems to propel the trip forward. But I have rather enjoyed it. Fortunately, bad luck has been followed by good. On our second day in London—a tour day that included Westminster Abbey, the changing of the guard, lunch in Leicester Square and the Towers of London—one boy discovered his passport was missing. Fat chance we’d be able to retrace our steps. But I decided to taxi over to St. Paul’s Cathedral--our best bet--and low and behold the minister found it. A Miracle!

Anyway, Johnny Cash sang “Get rhythm/ when you get the blues.” We have our traveling rhythm now. Actually Bruges cured us of any grad night hangover. As I write we are heading in two buses—coaches—across the Belgian border into France. We wait for Paris to cast its spell--or wake us up from the fairy tale that was Bruges.

In the course of the next few weeks I’ll be saying a few words about every European Dreamer (traveler). But I’ll also attempt to do more than merely document the trip. If the literary digressions bore you, skip ahead. Let’s go back to the flight to London and get caught up.

Truly, but wryly,
LV