The Nachez Trace Parkway is a miracle. So is finding it with your phone’s GPS. Since the Trace doesn’t have a route number, Siri sent me to and fro, to this side and that side of Nashville. Finally, after two hours of tracing and retracing interstates to the east, west and south, I got off the highway and asked an old farmer how to get there.
In popular culture, youthful freedom begins when one is handed a set of car keys (or today’s far-less-romantic equivalent, a fob). But those of us of a certain age know that the car is only a promotion: Our first real taste of freedom had only two wheels.
Today in the rush to escape the crowded elevator at Amsterdam’s Centraal Station, I lost track of a brown sling bag which contains: My laptop, my DSLR, 2 smartphones, a kindle, and an I-pod. All told, about two grand worth of gear, as well as my lifelines to our group, and to home.
Today I accidentally took a 22-mile bike ride through eastern Paris. I say “accidentally” because soon after setting out for Père Lachaise cemetery – about a four mile ride – I got distracted by an interesting lane that led up past an old canal and when the canal ended I took my best guess at where Père Lachaise might lie…