The Turning Point
Something had changed in me; I had given myself a taste of hurry and caught a glimpse into the insidious spiral it promised. I began to see into a deeper layer everywhere I went; people looking at their wristwatches at the bus stop, crazy stress at the train stations, traffic jams and impatient tram bells. The more I thought about it, the more I was sure, that hurrying and traveling by bicycle were uncomplimentary, antiprogressive, anathema, opposites, enemies, not meant to be in the same journey. Disagree if you like, but me, I’m livin’ the slow life.
I was still going to Madrid, but this time I’d take it easy, take a jaunt into Germany and pass through Luxembourg, and accord my Spring in France the time it deserved.
I should’ve known it wouldn’t happen like I planned, on simple principle. “A plan is just a list of things that never happen.” I should’ve really known it wouldn’t happen like that when I decided to visit Robin for his birthday at a Rainbow Gathering in Monschau. And it was downright silly of me to believe the “plan” would still come to pass when Lily wrote me this email on my last days in Maastricht. I was sitting in the sky-lit study-stair of Paul’s apartment above Les Boulots, sipping on espresso and finishing up some writings, when I read the following:
So, want to swing this by you, just because its been on my mind and the ol´man just sung a lyric ´we’ve all been burnt before, we all know how it hurts, but if you hide, you´ll never make it out alive…’ or something… anyway
qu´elle est ton trajet? Which direction do you plan on heading in from mastricht? Only that we are not so far away from eachother, and i was looking at the map and thinking i could do a little round trip ride from frankfurt to the border or nearby, if you were heading south. I think the sense and sensibility thing to do would be to leave our chapter closed… but i dont much feel like being sensible, so if you somehow want to figure into a plan that figures me into it too… make love under a blanket of stars for one last time and dream together a little more… let me know. If not, i more than understand… just putting it out there. The idea of seeing you without a beard! Goodness gracious!
In my mind, as in my reply, there was really no question. As soon as I read it my imagination exploded and my heart started reaching. Paul regarded the news with a wise knowing grin – he had been a “follow the girl” advocate from the beginning. Little did I know just how drastically the “plan” would change.
Suddenly I was rushing again! But this time it was to meet the woman I was in love with – which makes it all okay. Right? Well I can’t think of a better justification, and, as it would turn out, I was only rushing to slow down….
I tried to use a super-detailed xerox map to get to Germany, but in the Netherlands it really isn’t necessary to try and avoid heavy traffic; there are separated bike paths everywhere. After following some gravel farm roads and dirt hiking trails, a pleasant waste of my afternoon, I jumped on the direct roadside bike route to Aachen and the border. I met three girls who had decided on a lark to go camping on their bikes – the type of thing seen only in the Netherlands.
My body, after a week or more hanging about eating and drinking, did not agree with rushing. After one particuarly long hill (a sign I was close to leaving the Netherlands) I overheated and was forced to take a break. But while I was laying there waiting for the hydration to kick in and the stomach to calm down, I noticed a poetic-looking abandoned train track leading into the wilderness, which of course reminded me of Lily. Back on the bike, boy!
The hills had come back into my life with a vengeance. By the time I reached the Rainbow Gathering, I knew it would be a close call to reach Lily by Friday at 3 pm.
I missed the sign for the Gathering but a nice fellow named Twin at the parking lot asked me, “Are you looking for Rainbow?” I said yes, and he gave me a big hug with the words, “Welcome Home.”
Welcome home?!? How could you be so insensitive! Don’t you realize I already have a home, and Imiss my home, and I can’t even imagine anywhere replacing my home???
I admit this line of thinking was an over-reaction, but suddenly I realized this Rainbow thing might not be for me. At least not right now…. I mean, I was really just being a tourist, stopping for one night. I wanted to check it out, I’ve heard a lot about the Gatherings — my sister met her husband at a Rainbow Gathering. And I love hippie stuff like that, hugs for strangers and everyone is welcome. But I wasn’t prepared for a serious experience; my mind was elsewhere. I guess this tinctured my reaction a bit — when dude said “welcome home” to me, I actually felt a little insulted. Gee, I guess I really do love Wisconsin!
The Rainbow Gathering was about how I pictured it – a gorgeous river valley setting, one huge circle of hippies holding hands and singing about love, a misty tent village with lanterns glowing amidst the silhouettes of pine trees, a woodfire-heated bathtub on the river bank, nudists chopping firewood in the rain, a massive music jam in the teepee with offerings of India chai and Dutch joints, and one crazy old German Rainbow dude, naked except for his huge white beard and his bronze tan, jumping over the bonfire and yelling what I assume were jokes at the top of his lungs. Yep, this was hippie heaven, just respect the natural spring source and Hey we need people to help carry ash to the shit-pit! I could totally see my sister falling in love at a place like this.
When I arrived, the dinner circle had already started, so with a wistful glance at the deserted welcome tent (I had some questions about the whole deal), I awkwardly joined the party at a random spot. As they came around with the big pot of soup I noticed they were being very careful about sanitary feeding procedures – good to know. I ate as much as they would give me, ravenous, eagerly hungry, raising my hand “yes I want a mandarin” until the buddhist guy switched to English and told me the fruit was for the children only. But I’m a kinder too! Thankfully my hunger impressed the people around me and they handed me a couple oranges.
After dinner I went back to the welcome tent. It was still empty, just a smouldering fire, a teapot, and a couple cushions under the sagging tarp. I sat down to wait for someone to come – I really wanted a welcome. I felt lost; the first question I had was “Is this anarchy?”
But nobody came to enlighten me. In fact the only people that passed by were newcomers, and after the first group returned my smile with extra warmth I realized they thought I was the welcomer! So I did my best to answer questions and make people feel welcome – though I didn’t say “welcome home.” I even got to be the first to welcome three people arriving by bicycle! Their flute player was really interested in the long pocket on my drive-side Arkel pannier.
Eventually one of the naked woodchoppers came over to put his clothes back on, but by then I had come to my own conclusions. Yeah the email said to leave your electronic devices at home, but people use flashlights. I could put my tent wherever there was space. It’s a hippie gathering, no need to wait for someone to tell me the rules!
The next morning I got to be a part of the whole food-circle phenomenon in full new-age spirit. It took about an hour for everyone, about a hundred people all told, to gather in the big open lawn around the main fire pit. We held hands and chanted love and peace for what seemed like a little too long – I was starving again – but I suppose it was like, “the song continues until the time is right.” I can dig that. Only the little kids and the crazy old man were doing their own thing, making faces at each other. When the time was right we moved to stage two, chanting with our hands over our heads, as a kiss on the cheek was passed around the circle a couple of times. When this petered out everyone bowed to the ground for a long time, offering thanks and respect to mother earth and her humans. Then, finally, everyone sat down on the damp grass and the hippie cafeteria vibe took hold. Another twenty minutes and the meusli was brought around, by which time I had mentioned how hungry I was enough times for my neighbors to have given me personal stocks of apples and chocolate. Thank you beautiful people!!!
I wrote in my journal and met some nice people, but I had to leave that day, with just enough time to meet Lily. Robin hadn’t showed up – I don’t blame him, he’s been on an intuitive slow-travel when-the-time-is-right tip for a long time – so I left my happy birthday wishes on the message board by the entrance and saddled up.
Up. The Gathering was located at the bottom of a valley, which meant a serious climb UP to continue on my way. No big deal, really… it’s not as if that was the last hill on this little adventure. In fact the roads in that part of Western Germany are all steep and winding like mountain passes, only not as long and more numerous. I tucked in and hustled as best I could.
I’m pretty sure I passed some beautiful views, but the mist was so thick those two days I couldn’t see the other side of the valleys. Anyway it was okay; I wouldn’t have seen them anyway – my only thought, every pedal stroke, every hasty food break, was Lily. Head down, push – I’m going to see Lily. Lily, Lily, Lily, up every slow hill, around every sweeping Spring curve. I’m going to see Lily! What will it be like? What will we do? Will it be like it was before? Will there be another first kiss? It would’ve been a great opportunity to practice being “uncomfortable with uncertainty,” if I had been capable of thinking of anything more profound than “Goodness gracious!”
We had made plans to meet in Koblenz – a city somewhere in Germany, a city neither of us had ever visited, never heard anything about, just a city halfway between us. Of course there’s always a public library, though, and about two thirty in the afternoon I was cruising down the last hill towards the riverside city center.
There was some sort of public holiday happening, and everyone I asked for directions told me the library was closed. “That doesn’t matter, I’m just meeting… someone… there.”
I came upon a crowded city square and saw an old feller with an upside-down three-speed bike fixing a flat tire. I knew the library, and Lily, was close – within one more time asking for directions – and this guy might need my help. And I always ask my directions from cyclists if I can help it.
I communicated that I wanted to help him fix the tire, despite not sharing English or German. He seemed glad to have a young guy helping him, though perfectly capable himself. He talked to me while I worked; about what, I wasn’t really sure except for the Catholic holiday, but when it came to the Dunlap valve in his tube, I tried a little harder to communicate and learned some tricks for my future of fixing German flat tires. I did the patch-and-pump work, and he installed the repaired wheel while I tried to ask about the library. He told me where to go, and then, just before we parted, I must have said “muy bien” or something, because he started speaking in Spanish! Suddenly the door of communication was opened, like a magic switch throwing wide the connection between us. (Always try all your languages before resorting to cherades!) I explained the romantic situation that was about to come to the verge, and he corroborated his directions in a language I could understand and wished me luck.
Smiling with serendipity, I turned to push my bike through the crowd… and there she was.
The verge, pushing her bike towards me, just around the corner from the public library.
I didn’t have to look around to know that she was the most beautiful woman in that crowded Koblenz square. That day I just knew, from the first moment our eyes met. The whole city washed away around us, and all we did was… reunite. Suddenly I was deeper in love with her than ever before, and I knew: I was past the verge now, I was in Lily-land. Floating along sublimely justgrinning.
* * *
Three days and three glorious nights found us at a crossroads. On the bank of the Rhein, just before the river Main splits off and goes back to Frankfurt. It was just a simple lunch break on a shady park bench, facing the water flowing past.
But something big was happening: we didn’t want to say goodbye.
We came to talk about it so naturally, I couldn’t even tell you who “brought it up first.”
These are the facts:
Lily would cycle East to join the bike path that runs along the Danube River, and follow it all theway to Budapest(that’s in Hungary, 1000 kilometers away), either alone, or with me.
My mother would be coming to Budapest in a couple months — her plan was to fly to Madrid afterwards to see me.
I was in no hurry to get to Madrid, and
I was absolutely in love with her.
I’m afraid I flinched at the immensity of this idea. I couldn’t even mention it directly. My first answer was “I’m going to go to Madrid.” It had to be okay, but it wasn’t — with either of us. Lily cut her finger opening an avocado after I said it, and as I helped her patch it up, I realized I wasn’t being true to either of us. I wanted to go with her, plain and simple. What else really compares to that? I was nearly totally one hundred percent completely positively convinced that it was just fear preventing me from doing it, but I wasn’t quite sure either. I took a walk.
Let’s see… Danube to Budapest, it’s supposed to be flat the whole way. [go] Nice river views. Get to see more of Europe – what’s that, Austria and Hungary on the list of countries? Go with her. Maybe Italy on the way back? Doesn’t sound too bad. Mom’s gonna be [go] there, less travelling for her… hey, [go] she won’t have to take an extra Go With Her! airplane to see me, nice. Madrid can wait, I’m already too late [go] to attend the Criticona. Everything seems fine. Say Yes!But wait — this doesn’t feel like my tour, it feels like her tour. I mean, what are people going to think when I tell them I detoured my “solo” world tour just because a beautiful woman [go] wanted me to bike with her… across Europe… hey, wait a minute. That actually sounds really good. In fact, hey hold on — wouldn’t I be a complete fool, not to go? We could make it our tour…. go go go go go GO GO GOGOGOOOOO FOOOR IIIIIT
Lily was laying in a sunny patch of grass when I got back, watching the water flowing past.
After, all I remember is her smiling face, above me, silhouetted by the blue sky.
