In October 1975, I arrived at the Syrian-Turkish border. We took a taxi from Gaziantep, Turkey, to Kilis, a border town. We stepped into Syria, where an army major sat. He smiled and asked me some questions. “Where do you plan to go today?” “Aleppo,” I said. “Good....
Travel in 1976 echoed the lost hippy days. I refused to get a haircut anywhere, not because I detested short hair, but out of a fear of lice. My afro hid my hair’s length. It grew up, not down. I boarded a flight from Jakarta to Singapore. Jakarta’s chaos,...
Bulgaria in 1975 presents a picture of perfected repression combined with enhanced depression. Buildings crying for renovation lined the streets of Sofia, the capital. Stores specialized in selling nothing. The Bulgarians either wanted to talk to you or avoided you...
Indian Rupees What’s one of the traveller’s worst nightmares, running out of money? Further, your credit cards become useless. As a result, you’re without funds, food, transportation and hotels! But, you have deposits back home...
I value sleep when travelling and despise anyone or anything that interrupts it. One culprit specializes in roosting people from their dreams. Finding a peaceful hotel takes effort since peace equals lots of sleep. I walk around until I stumble on a suitable...