Read Online Mesmerized: Spellbound (Book One) by Trinity Night - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Trinity Night
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greenish gray that morning. Not exactly epic. But it was my chance to catch something real and true: my first real artistic experience in Europe. I sketched the outline of the buildings and canal in soft strokes with a watercolor pencil. I slowly built-up the colors revealing a lovely scene that I could keep forever. The light changed, and I looked at my cell phone. It was already late afternoon. Time flies!
I walked around the corner looking for a place to get some cheap food, not that it was likely in a tourist driven city like Venice. But I found a small cafe that served slices of pizza. The scent of fresh melted mozzarella and basil made my mouth water. I was a little burned-out and buzzed from my focus on panting, the foreign surroundings, and the continuing jet lag. I sat in the cafe and ate the most delicious slice of pizza I’d ever had in my life.
The next several days in Venice passed much like the first. I a te cheap food and visited museums and galleries. It was all really awe inspiring. I got to know some other travelers at the hostel, and we shared things like cab rides and looked out for each other's stuff. On my last day there, I traveled to one of the beaches and spent most of the day soaking up the sun, swimming, and painting the crystal blue Mediterranean waves. I even started getting tan. Freaky!
On my last day in Venice, I checked out of the hostel and got on a train headed north to Munich. From there I would travel through Austria and Hung ary with a final destination of Budapest. After Budapest, I planned to take busses and stay in hostels around the Black Sea for the rest of the summer.
I know it all sounds crazy— a young American woman, traveling alone on a train to Budapest. But after a lifetime of always doing what I was told, I was ready to take risks.
The train was fully equipped with food and sleeping cars. I didn’t have a private suit; I'd booked one of those bunk-beds in a common sleeping room. Most of the time I spent in the sitting car, reading and listening to indie bands on my iPod, or looking out the window at the ancient landscapes passing before me.
Chapter Two
When we reached Munich, the train stationed for several hours. It was raining hard in a dark, dismal night. I would have liked to get out and look around the city, but the weather wasn’t exactly welcoming.
Germany was gone by the time the noon sun crested the sky. The train chugged through the Austrian Alps, down in a green valley, under the shadow of towering snow-capped peaks that disappeared into billowing clouds. When we stopped at the passing stations, I took pictures of the breathtaking views.
Mount Rainier was impressive, but nothing like this. We skirted Vienna and descended into Hungarian farm land. The train pulled into Budapest in the early evening. I disembarked and found a cab to the hostel where I’d planned to spend a few days. When I got there, I checked in with a little help with my translator, and passed out in my bed.
When I woke, I showered and dressed and went downstairs for breakfast. The hostel was in a post-war building, probably from around 1960, but it was in need of repair, and smelled like mold and piss. When I got to the buffet, I wished there was such a thing as an electronic food translator. Nothing looked familiar except bread, so I put random things on my plant. Some of it tasted good; some of it was, well, questionable.
I took my plate and sat down at a big round t able with a group of travelers who seemed to be about my age. They all looked blurry-eyed and happy. I smiled as I sat down, and said “hi,” expecting none of them to understand me. To my surprise, everyone at the table greeted me with “hi’s” and “good-mornings”.
“ Where are you all from?” I asked, regarding the group of young men and women.
“ We’re from England, on vacation from school,” said a pudgy faced red-headed boy.
“ Are you American?” asked a girl with a hip, bleach-blonde
I walked around the corner looking for a place to get some cheap food, not that it was likely in a tourist driven city like Venice. But I found a small cafe that served slices of pizza. The scent of fresh melted mozzarella and basil made my mouth water. I was a little burned-out and buzzed from my focus on panting, the foreign surroundings, and the continuing jet lag. I sat in the cafe and ate the most delicious slice of pizza I’d ever had in my life.
The next several days in Venice passed much like the first. I a te cheap food and visited museums and galleries. It was all really awe inspiring. I got to know some other travelers at the hostel, and we shared things like cab rides and looked out for each other's stuff. On my last day there, I traveled to one of the beaches and spent most of the day soaking up the sun, swimming, and painting the crystal blue Mediterranean waves. I even started getting tan. Freaky!
On my last day in Venice, I checked out of the hostel and got on a train headed north to Munich. From there I would travel through Austria and Hung ary with a final destination of Budapest. After Budapest, I planned to take busses and stay in hostels around the Black Sea for the rest of the summer.
I know it all sounds crazy— a young American woman, traveling alone on a train to Budapest. But after a lifetime of always doing what I was told, I was ready to take risks.
The train was fully equipped with food and sleeping cars. I didn’t have a private suit; I'd booked one of those bunk-beds in a common sleeping room. Most of the time I spent in the sitting car, reading and listening to indie bands on my iPod, or looking out the window at the ancient landscapes passing before me.
Chapter Two
When we reached Munich, the train stationed for several hours. It was raining hard in a dark, dismal night. I would have liked to get out and look around the city, but the weather wasn’t exactly welcoming.
Germany was gone by the time the noon sun crested the sky. The train chugged through the Austrian Alps, down in a green valley, under the shadow of towering snow-capped peaks that disappeared into billowing clouds. When we stopped at the passing stations, I took pictures of the breathtaking views.
Mount Rainier was impressive, but nothing like this. We skirted Vienna and descended into Hungarian farm land. The train pulled into Budapest in the early evening. I disembarked and found a cab to the hostel where I’d planned to spend a few days. When I got there, I checked in with a little help with my translator, and passed out in my bed.
When I woke, I showered and dressed and went downstairs for breakfast. The hostel was in a post-war building, probably from around 1960, but it was in need of repair, and smelled like mold and piss. When I got to the buffet, I wished there was such a thing as an electronic food translator. Nothing looked familiar except bread, so I put random things on my plant. Some of it tasted good; some of it was, well, questionable.
I took my plate and sat down at a big round t able with a group of travelers who seemed to be about my age. They all looked blurry-eyed and happy. I smiled as I sat down, and said “hi,” expecting none of them to understand me. To my surprise, everyone at the table greeted me with “hi’s” and “good-mornings”.
“ Where are you all from?” I asked, regarding the group of young men and women.
“ We’re from England, on vacation from school,” said a pudgy faced red-headed boy.
“ Are you American?” asked a girl with a hip, bleach-blonde
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