Traveled to Europe and Morocco in 1971 for three months. This trip made we believe that you could always pack up and discover joy on the road. This belief has been challenged as I have grown older, like Dorothy said in the “Wizard of Oz” ”there is no place like home” But then it was a magical mystery tour.
I prepared for the trip by reading “the Complete Camper” and packing my back pack right down to a needle and thread and a dime, to make a call, though not very useful when the telephones take francs and impossible to figure out. I flew to Luxemburg which at the time was offering the cheapest flights. From there I boarded a train to Amsterdam, the Mecca for American students. Right from the start I meet a woman on the train who arranged for me to say with her cousin. But the first night I ended up camping on in the center of town at a construction site. The plastic tarp I had brought along was useful in protecting me from the rain that fell that night. In the morning I awoke to the sound of construction workers preparing for their day of work. I meandered around Amsterdam, London and Paris meeting and re-meeting acquaintances along the way. On the ferry ride to London I meet two women who offered me a place to stay in the city. When we arrived at the residence we were greeted by a man in jockey shorts, I was quite naive at the time.
The trip worked its way south during the winter to Spain and to visit my Aunt and Uncle in Barcelona whom were there as working Americans. They offered me accommodations but were put off by my bohemian ways. I left with my cousin Nancy to explore Morocco