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I came careering down the piste at speed and skied slap-bang into some chap who stopped right in front of me. At the time I wasn't aware that I'd broken my left collarbone... following two weeks of immense boredom I was on the verge of insanity, and so when on a trip to my local village I found myself returning to my hotel not only with the bag of apples I'd set out to buy, but also with an Interail ticket, entitling me to free carriage on virtually any train in Europe for a month...

European Tales: Interrail trip around Europe, a lengthy tale

Joseph Tame
2006-06-30 17:39:54

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the aid of the sun this beat Venice hands down when it came to getting lost. Although initially I found it difficult to cope with the many sellers that approached me with the usual opening line ("you speak English?"), I soon found that the best way to deal with this was to either ignore them completely or say a few words in Japanese - that really threw them! I actually struck up a friendship with one such hustler. 'The carpetman' who worked in the outlet near my apartment would entice me into his grotto several times a day as I went about my explorations. I humoured him by agreeing to listen to his stories, but always left telling him that despite the beauty of his products I'd only part with £10.00 - THAT night out had had its effect upon me! Another friend I made was a Kurdish chap who worked as a waiter in one of my favourite restaurants. Very human, he was always concerned about my welfare and I'd often stop to chat to listen to his stories of Back Home.

Although Istanbul is famed for its Mosques complete with their incredible minarets (from which the priests wail via loudspeaker every so often in order to call people to prayer), I personally wasn't too fond of them. I found these huge buildings to be lacking in welcome, and once inside somewhat empty and cold. Instead, I preferred to spend my time exploring the back streets where the children would be playing ball games and the housing had more character in its dilapidated state. Time seemed to pass swiftly, and I was more than content to just go with the flow and not join any tourist trail. My final night in Istanbul was just great: I found a really nice restaurant where an English waitress worked. She'd fallen in love with Turkish food and was planning to return to Brighton, England, with her boyfriend in order to set up a traditional Turkish eatery. I was invited to join them for free drinks in the basement bar after she'd finished work. There I spent hours talking to a lovely old chap from Cuba who'd spent much of his life on the open road, it was a great boost to my belief that I can tread the path that I have in my dreams.

Unfortunately, time was running out. My sick leave was almost over and my collarbone was giving me little grief. Not wanting to return to Switzerland the way that I had come, I decided to try to get a boat to Italy via Greece. Following a hellish 10-hour bus ride south, I was told at the major port that there would be no sailings until the following month. I just couldn't believe it - the prospect of another overnight bus ride back to Istanbul was not at all appealing! Completely broke, out came the credit card. Taxi to the local airport, 50-minute flight to Istanbul. Three-hour flight back to Rome, a couple of nights with my friend in Bologna and finally an express train to Kleine Scheidegg, ("start work Monday").

What a fantastic break it had been. I'd often dreamed of going on such a trip, but had never made the time to do so. My skiing accident had given me the perfect excuse to really put into practice my motto to 'Live for the day'. I had had a hell of a lot of fun and just as importantly learnt much more about other cultures and countries than if I had simply stayed in bed and felt sorry for myself. I knew there was a reason for that accident; after all, every cloud has a silver lining.

Upon my return I felt utterly exhausted but immensely happy. That night, having crashed onto my bed I could only write one thing in my diary; 'Boy, I am so lucky'.

Joseph Tame

Spring 2001