I’m seated in the Tom Bradley International section of LAX. My flight is in three hours. I’m “old people” early, having gotten a ride to the LAX on the FlyAway airport bus in Van Nuys. Although I was worried about long lines, given the government shutdown, it took me less than ten minutes to enter the airport, find the TSA area, and go through screening. The only troublesome thing was the two guards with automatic rifles at the non TSA checkpoint. I guess there’s no need for that level of security at TSA.

I took my first transatlantic cruise on the NCL, from Southampton. I was there doing a back to back Northern Europe cruise, on the MSC Preziosa. The NCL Bliss had just finished the first leg of a back to back transatlantic journey. The ship was now docked for maintenance work. Three hundred NCL back to back passengers booked my same back to back trip on MSC. Other NCL Bliss passengers traveled around the UK or other parts of Europe, during the wait. I quickly booked the NCL Bliss for my return back to the USA.

I took EuroStar from London to Paris, slept in a questionable hotel by the Paris terminal, then set out the following morning to Berlin. I booked a few nights at an IBIS hotel, a little ways from Checkpoint Charlie. Then, a longer stay in the suburbs, to practice my German. The young daughter in the home helped me with the WiFi and gavel me a tour of the bathroom and kitchen area. She heard me trying to open the door for the upstairs entrance to the house and came out to make sure that I was OK. She was very helpful and emailed her mom to say that I was really cool!

On my way to my first Mediterranean cruise, I made stops in Poland, the Czech Republic, and Hungary. I traveled by train and spent a week in each country. Then, I took a long bus ride through Slovenia and made my way to Trieste, Italy, for the cruise. I gave myself five days there, to rest and regroup, before the next adventure. The city is the coffee capital of Italy and where James Joyce visited, 1904 -1920, and began working on Ulysses.

On my way to Armenia, I decided to make my first trip to Turkey. Having served in Peace Corps Armenia, 2017-2019, I was arriving in Istanbul with a certain mindset. But, after three assignments in the Peace Corps (Kenya 1986/88 and then Ethiopia 2019/20) cultural integration is part of my DNA. I made quick friends at the Black and White Cafe, in a small village near the airport (Europe side) and had a waving contest with a little girl sitting in a field with her mother. Although a short non touristy stay, it was a great opportunity for me to get my head around being in Turkey.

I flew from the Asia side of Istanbul to my old home away from home in Armenia. I book a room at IBIS, ate Red Thai Curry (at ThaiWine Republic) and had a coffee at The Green Bean. At this point, I know my way around Yerevan more than my hometown of Detroit. That being said, I left Detroit, for my service in the Air Force, back in 1975. Today, if I had to pick one of the two locations, Armenia is my home. I ran into an old friend who worked with the Flex Program and then also had lunch with a young man I met in Sitka, Alaska, when he was doing his FLEX year abroad. I, of course, saw friends and Peace Corps staff at the Peace Corps swearing in ceremony, in Yerevan.

I lived in Washington DC, back in 1984. I worked on G and 15th and lived at Thompson Markward Hall. Eleanor Roosevelt cut the ribbon, at an expansion celebration there. To help pay my rent, I worked weekends as the switchboard operator, while sitting at the front desk and buzzing in residents. The “Women Only” residency provided housing for high school students working as Pages for Congress. I took notes on any girls arriving home late, during my midnight to early morning shift. I was living at TMH when I watched the Live AID concert, in 1985. I walked into Peace Corps HQ, on my lunch break, the following Monday, and filled out an application. A year later, I began serving as a high school English teacher, in Kenya.

I lived in Minneapolis for less than a year. I met a PhD candidate, at TMH. When her husband came for a visit, I took them to a club in Georgetown. At some point, we noticed that the band was playing to her husband and only her husband. He looked like a rock star and the band wanted his approval. By the time I moved to Minneapolis, he was now Venus and she was still married to my friend from TMH. It was great seeing them both, during my short train adventure over the summer. Wild Things: A Trans-Glam-Punk-Rock Love Story by Lynette Reini-Grandell tells half of their story and “Venus of Mars” the 2003 Documentary by Emily Goldberg, celebrates the life Venus de Mars and her wife.

The best laid plans could not help my NCL Caribbean cruise, from New York City. I booked a room in Hell’s Kitchen, five days before we set sail. Then, we didn’t. Hurricane Erin had other plans. We were docked, at the pier in Manhattan for two days, then further down the Hudson River for one additional day. Three of our destinations were canceled. Two stops in the Bahamas were added. Then, we sailed into Bermuda, spent the day, and returned to New York. This was such a great reminder about expectations. You have the choice of being upset or getting over it and making the best of a bad situation.

The following month, I arrived in Vancouver for a NCL repositioning cruise. Sitka, my old AmeriCorps site, was now removed from the itinerary, along with Santa Barbara. The latter might have been a “tender only” destination and the waves were now too high. The town of Sitka was probably “done and done” with the 2025 Alaska cruise season and the town of eight thousand citizens just wanted a break. After living there for two years, 2020/22, I can’t blame them. I left the cruise ship, when it reached San Diego. Some passengers stayed on for the Mexican Riviera cruise later that day. I raced to Amtrak, to catch an earlier train, before the “No Kings” protest began. At the next few stops, the conductor announced that some passengers would have to stand. Luckily, those getting on in San Diego had seats.

So, here I sit, at LAX. My flight leaves in an hour and a half. I’ll spend a day or two in Lisbon, then take a train to Tui. From there, I’ll have a month to walk the final 100k of the Portuguese Way and then make my way to Barcelona for the first of two cruises. I think I can walk the final 100k leg of the Camino Portuguese, in eight to ten days, in spite of having bone on bone arthritis (in both knees)! I still have the extra strength pain meds, from the dental work I had to cancel. My annual exam blood pressure numbers were high enough to put the dental work on hold. I walked the full 500 miles of the French Way, two years ago, without knowing the full extent of my knee situation.

I’ll have fifteen days on the Transatlantic cruise from Barcelona to Miami to recover, after the Camino Portuguese, especially during the final six days at sea, while crossing the Atlantic. So, at eight years retired and a few months until turning seventy, my Camino goals have gotten a lot smaller. I keep thinking that if I had more time, I could walk from Lisbon. But … I’m slowly settling into the fact that I probably couldn’t walk that far and it’s OK. The point is that I’m about to walk the final 100k of the Portuguese Way and the Camino will always provide.

I decided to fly to Porto tomorrow and spend a few days. Then, I’ll get transportation to Tui and begin walking. See you, when I see you! XOXO—GGT