Final Thoughts

Well, it's over. The long, wandering trek around the world is finally completed.
People have asked me things like, "Was it worth it?" and "Where was your favorite place?"
To answer the first, I'd say absolutely. I wouldn't have missed it for...well, the world. I had a great time. Sure, there were setbacks and hardships at times, things like missed connections, noisy or stuffy hostel rooms, smokey restaurants, sunburns, baffling subway systems, unhelpful officials. But I accepted all that as part of the journey. If all had been easy and comfortable, it woulnd't have been the same. If every hotel room was nice, and every station attendant was smilingly helpful, it would have somehow been less of an adventure. The scary eastern European train stations at night will not soon be forgotten, nor the creepy beggars or the pushy Turkish carpet salesmen. (Hey, I just realized that I never saw a single female store clerk in all of Turkey. I suppose it's that Muslim taboo against women working certain jobs. Shame, I bet they'd sell more rugs if they let the ladies give it a try.)
Anyway, as I was saying, I thoroughly enjoyed the trip. Even all the waiting at the airports, train stations and ferry terminals (I caught up on my reading then) and the riding itself took up time as well. The longest train journey was from Romania to Bicester England, which took a day and a half, not counting the night's stop in a hotel in Cologne. But I had several good books, including my little sudoku book which accompanied me on the entire trip (I still have a few of the difficult ones to finish). The longest flight I had was Singapore to Istanbul, 13 hours. The flights were the easiest of all to pass time on: I just watched movies and the hours flew by. Sometimes I was almost disappointed when we over; there were always more movies than time to watch! The ferry trips were never very long and most ferries are now almost small cruise ships complete with restaurants and bars, video game rooms, shopping areas and sometimes even small movie theaters. I still prefer to pass the time up on deck, feeding the gulls and enjoying the views when not reading in the bright sunshine and col breezes.

So the traveling itself was quite nice, and the destinations were (usually) even better. What place did I like the best? I don't really have a favorite, I must admit. They all had their good and bad points. The Elephant Nature Park in Thailand was full of exciting chances to interact with the gentle giants, fantastic food and loads of wonderful people from across the globe to ejoy. But it was hot, humid, rather primitive and miles from anywhere. Almost exactly the opposite, Vienna, Austria is a stunning city of beauty and grace, yet my visit felt cold and lonely as I met not a single person with whom to really talk to.
Yet I would love to go back to both places. It's pretty much the same with everywhere I went-- some good, some not so good, yet all different and interesting. Well, maybe I saw enough of Bucharest to satisfy me, but most places had far too much to see for one visit. I feel almost like I was on a scouting trip, just stopping by for a quick look-see and then moving on. But I enjoyed it all: every museum, big and small, every grand old cathedral and quiet little church, each food market and cafe and pub, and everyone I met, from the wonderful folks who kindly took me in to their homes to the grumpy ticket agents who refused to speak english even if they knew it. They all added to the trip in their own ways. I thank them all.

Here's a few things I've learned while traveling:
- Remember to drink the water bottle before going through the security line at the airport.
- You can't see everything. Pace yourself; if it's that good, plan on coming back some day.
- Don't walk when you can ride-- you'll need that energy later.
- A quiet hotel room is a precious thing; one with air conditioning as well is a treasure beyond price.
- Don't settle in for the night without something to snack on. Especially on an overnight train. Once I went hungry all day because I figured I'd have plenty of time to lounge in the dining car that night, only to find out there was no dining car!
- ASK QUESTIONS. I cannot stress this enough. I jumped on a train which I thought was going my way. After not seeing my destination posted I asked a passenger just to confirm, and it turned out to be the wrong train. I barely made it out of the train in time.
- Even if you have a first-class ticket, try second-class sometimes. You meet more interesting people.
- If you have time, volunteer. The best times I had on the whole trip were when I was volunteering-- I met the best people, had fun with the animals, and got so many extra benefits I can't even list them all here. Trust me on this. Volunteering will change your position from just another tourist to a member of a special group of friends with local connections. It was the best decision I made!
- Never pass up a bathroom when you get the chance--especially a free one. Or a chance to recharge your laptop.
- PACK LIGHT. Then remove half of it. I thought I had packed light for an 8-month trip. I would have been fine with half as much.
Speaking of packing, some of you may have been wondering just how much I brought with me, and what kind of baggage I lugged around the world. I started out with the blue suitcase pictured (chosen because it has both wheels and backpack straps, which I never used) and the camo knapsack. I crammed them full of as much clothes as would fit, not knowing how cold or hot it might be where I was going. I had two pairs of jeans, two ultralight long pants, two shorts (one doubling as bathing suit) about six t-shirts, two sweatshirts (one regular, one polartec), a jacket that doubled as a raincoat, and a few nice shirts. This plus underwear, hat, umbrella, books, maps, travel documents, still and video cameras, toiletries and assorted knick-knacks that you collect when traveling made for quite a heavy load.
By design they were compatible and I could roll them together or carry them separately up stairs and onto trains, when necessary. But I soon found that I needed something else-- a day pack. When I'd reach a hotel and go out to sightsee, I needed something to carry my guidebook, water bottle, camera(s), wallet, passport, sunglasses and sometimes jacket and umbrella, and the knapsack was too big and full of luggage to empty and repack each time. So in New Zealand I kept my eyes open for an army surplus store, and upon finding one, quickly selected the little green bag that was perfect for my needs. It even held my little Fujitsu laptop which came in handy on trains, when I wanted to get it without digging into the knapsack. It took up hardly any room and could easily be carried along with the rest of the stuff. I also finally found a nifty little travel fan which I bought; I had had enough of hot, stuffy European hotel rooms with no air conditioning-- few of them even had a hotel I coud use. Being metal it was a bit heavy but I slept much better with it, so it was worth it.
I mention all the clothes I brought because I wanted to point out that, in spite of being all I had to last for 6 months, it was really too much! Yes, believe it or not, I had no need of half of it. Two pairs of jeans? So what if they were two different colors? I hardly wore the green ones, and who would have known the difference anyway? I was rarely with the same people more than three days. And even when I stayed longer, they understood that I was traveling and forgave me the style faux pas of being seen in the same pants the same week.
I think the reason why there are so many tourists struggling with so much luggage is mainly because people try to continue the dress codes abroad that they abide by at home with their closets full of garments. They cling to the silly belief that they must not be seen in the same articles twice in the same week. I spent three weeks in France and Spain with just the knapsack, and got along fine. I had a little bottle of laundry soap, and every other night did a bit of scrubbing in the sink, which was dry by morning. Not always perfect, I'll grant, but a lot better than pulling the extra weight around. (Of course, it helped knowing that I wouldn't need cold-weather clothes.)
Anyway, it was a mind-opening trip of a lifetime. I wouldn't travel for that long again; maybe 3 or 4 months at the most. More than that can just be too tiring. It's a lot of work, planning your next city, finding the right train, locating a hotel, walking around a new city. Day after day, week after week, no matter how exotic and interesting the locales, it wears you down. At my age, it's amazing I lasted that long.
I lost 10 pounds as well, which was part of the plan. I avoided rich desserts and gelatos, and kept to my vegetarian diet, not always easy in countries with meat-rich cuisines like Turkey and Hungaria. And I maintained my vegetarian diet, except for that one accidental ordering of Hungarian goulash in Budapest (I didn't realize it had meat in it). It wasn't always easy, like in Istanbul where there were several kebab places on every block; but I also discovered a world of new dishes and flavors that I never would have otherwise. And I'm kind of proud that I made it-- spouting on about animal welfare would sound kind of hollow if I turned around and ate them. It would be rather like a slaveholder claiming to be concerned with civil rights issues. Anyway, it's not hard now, it's just a way of life.
And I took over a thousand photos, so I'll always keep the memories fresh of the wanderjahr of 2008. Thanks for sharing it with me.
~Dave Bernazani September 2008

San Francisco Sunsets

I was only back in Virginia for two days when I was flying again, this time back out to San Francisco. I had been offered work by Rick, the vet who was in Romania in May doing spay/neuter clinics. I wanted to check out his clinic and some apartments before moving out there. So after a freezing flight on Virgin America which has one blanket and pillow on each flight (I kid you not, there was ONE blanket on the entire airplane), Rick met me with his truck and cool dog "Honey", a sweet mixed mutt he rescued while volunteering in Mexico.
He let me stay at his house in Vallejo, a beautifully-decorated and landscaped place high on a hill with a fantasic view of the bay. You can even just see the tops of the Golden Gate bridge towers when it's clear. l also met his daughter Gail and other little scrapper of a dog Russell. Rick left the next day for a trip to Alaska, and after a quick tour of the house, and a spin around Vallejo, I was alone to pet sit the dogs, 2 cats, and lots of plants to water. That night there was a beautiful sunset, which turned out to happen just about every night there. Man, that house is amazing; it would be worth it just for the sunsets there alone
I met up with old friends Bruce & Loree, who took me up to the nearby Napa wine country where we met another friend Cathy. We had a great lunch at a beautiful winery in Vacaville. Then we stopped by Muir woods and later the beach, where Honey had a great time exploring.

They also had a dinner party where I got to meet some of their friends, including their new puppy "Shiloh", an adorable little black German shepherd they just adopted. And of course old Tosca was there, their venerable little shar-pei/beagle mix that they've had since before even moving out there.

Another day cousin Chuck and I took the ferry out to Alcatraz, my first time there. They have a great audiotour of the whole prison complex-- very enlightening. Outside it was a sunny day and there's a fantastic view of the city from the island. Back in the city I had to get a chowder-in-a-breadbowl, and see the famous sea lions of pier 39, two things that are must-dos in San Fran. Check out this handsome guy preening in front of the camera-- no, not Chuck, I meant the sea lion!
There's still a lot I haven't seen or done there, but I should have lots of time, as I have decided to move out there. I flew back to pack up my stuff, and soon I'll hit the road and drive back out there. I should be just in time for the fall festivals.

The Long (Rail)Road Home

I finally had the right ticket, and only two days to get across Europe to London. Barring any unforseen holdups I should make it to Brussels in about 24 hours, according to the ticket lady-- yes, the same one who gave me the wrong ticket the day before. Catching the evening train out of Sibiu to Medias, I was there by ten and had an hour to wait at the creepy station. They keep the lights down so low you can't see to read, and shadowy figures pass in and out, making you clutch your bags a little tighter each time. In the dim light of an upstairs strange sort of waiting hall I did a little Sudoku and tried to forget where I was.
Then went out to wait for the train. In Romania at many stations you must walk across the tracks to get to your platform. It's an odd feeling at first, doing something that back home you've been told all your life is wrong. It really drives it in how far from home you are. Anyway, in spite of studying a handy diagram on the platform as to which car mine should be, I immediately got on the wrong one. Everyone was rushing so fast to get on I thought the train was going to pull out any moment, and I didn't want to miss it again. And of course, there were no car numbers visible, nor conductors for that matter, so I squeezed past the many people in the narrow aisles in a vain search for my little temporary quarters. I finally found a conductor stretched out in the dining car who told me the wrong car to go to. By this time I felt like you do in those dreams where everyone else is in class, watching you as you search for yours. The couchette cars all looked horribly crammed with people squeezed together trying to stretch out to sleep, and were hot, dark and stuffy; I prayed my berth wasn't in them. I found what I thought was mine, according to the recumbant conductor, and entered the sweetest little cabin you could hope for: only two beds, clean, crisp sheets, extra little cubbys, and best of all, no one else in it. It looked too good to be true.
As it turns out, it was.
Almost immediately a woman conductor brusquely entered and asked to see my ticket, whereupon she stated that I was in the wrong cabin... and look what I had done to the sheets by setting my bags on the bed! When I apologized and asked the matron where my proper car was, she proudly announced that she was not in charge of that car, only this one, and had no idea where mine was. Now, these trains always have the exact same layout, according to the diagram at the station; you would think that someone who works every night on the same 10-car train would eventually get a basic grasp of where each one was. In any event she at least pointed me in the right direction, whereupon I found my berth in a four-bunk cabin with three of the jolliest Romanian fellows I had yet met. They were on a holiday to see Nurenburg, and one of them eagerly asked me if I spoke German. When I could only say "Ein bisschen" (a little) he shrugged and, in very good English, asked me what I thought of Bush. They handed me a Pilsner beer from their cooler and we launched into a discussion on everything from U.S. politics to the war in Iraq to the price of real estate in Romania.
They seemed to be the happiest people from Bucharest there ever were, and laughed at everything from the way I taught them how to open a beer with another bottle, to each other's jokes, which were mostly in Romanian and as such were beyond me but it was nice to see such happy fellows after so much gloomy, rude service I had gotten recently. The youngest of the three was a patisserie chef and passed around some delicious, nutty-flavored cookies.
After a decent night's sleep with only the usual midnight passport check at the Hungarian border and a lot of clanging and bumping in Budapest about 3am, I woke up approaching Vienna and had to sadly say auf Wiedersehen to my bunkmates. They gave me some more cookies and I hit the ground (literally) running as the train was late and my connecting train was due to leave that very minute.
I should explain that in Europe it's pretty unusual for trains to be late, but it does happen. They generally leave right on time-- to the minute-- but holdups along the way can slow them down, and if your connection is leaving soon you have to huff it or miss it. Along with a bunch of backpackers, I ran to what looked like my train. It was going the right way (to Frankfurt) and leaving at the right time (now). We all climbed on and scurried to find seats. I grabbed the first one I found and plopped contentedly into it, only to hear an announcement (only in German, of course) saying something about "rezervations". I overheard someone explaining in English that you needed reservations on this train. It figures, right? My reservation only went as far as Vienna; for the rest I was on my own with my Eurailpass. But if I went inside the station to wait for a ticket agent I would surely miss this train and have to wait, possibly for hours, for another one. I had had enough of being delayed and decided to risk it. I slunk down in my seat and hoped for the best, as the train pulled out. The more time passed, the more nervous I got, sure I was going to be found out and dropped off at the next lonely little whistle stop. But my fears were groundless; when the conductor came around he simply stamped my railpass and moved on. I breathed a sigh of relief.
A bit later, though, at another stop a lady got on who informed me that I was in her seat. I gladly got up from the second-class seat and went in search of the first-class cabin. At this point I should explain that my Eurailpass was for first class seating, but I often found the people were more interesting and the seating almost identical in second class, and I hadn't wished to be noticed before I was sure I was safe. Now I boldly entered the hushed, sleek first-class section with its wood paneling, cushy seats and free coffee, and slid into a seat where I could even plug in my computer to recharge. It was actually a four-seat compartment with bucket seats and a nice big table. I was sure it wouldn't last long and as soon as my ticket was checked they would say something like, "Dumbkopf! Ziss car iss for Ferst-Klass peoples only! Rouse, you fool! Get out! Schnell!" Ironically, when the first-class conductor came around, he took one look at me reaching for my bag and waved me off, saying, "It's ok, I trust you." Me? With my two-day whiskers, ill-fitting baseball cap and scruffy "Stop Animal Abuse" t-shirt? Hm. Ok, whatever. At least I got to stay. He even handed out candy to us. Sweet.
Perhaps it was because I was typing on my little laptop. I was working on this blog, but it was diffucult with the beautiful Austrian and German countryside rolling by. When you leave Hungary and enter western Europe the villages just look prettier, the farmsteads tidier and (best of all) the apartment blocks-- that very symbol of the communist blight-- are almost nonexistant-- or at least not visible from the train. Any factories are hidden or kept discreetly away from the towns, and the buildings don't have that run-down look you see so often in the east. Not to say Romania and Hungary don't have their charms; Sibiu's Old Town was a delight and some of the other villages and such were very nice. And I never got to the beaches at the Black Sea and other resort-y (a word I just made up) places. But when you cross over the border you just know you're not in Krakow any more.
In first class I met a nice couple from San Diego who explained to me what had been happening between Russia and the Georgian Republic. I had only heard scraps and hints, and of course there was no CNN or BBC in Sibiu. It seems I had missed quite a bit. I wondered what else had happened in the world while I was traveling. It's ironic: I used to be a news junkie, but about the only thing I knew about the U.S. in the past 6 months is that George Carlin and Bernie Mac had died. Even more ironic is that I really didn't miss knowing all those petty details that we clutter our lives with. I saw little blurbs on Yahoo about the latest Olympics scandals and didn't care to read any more. I just wanted to connect with those I knew back home and around the world, and thus spent most of my internet time emailing people.
As the day passed we stopped in Linz, Nurenburg, Wurzburg, Frankfurt. To my surprise we even passed right through pretty Bacharach with its wonderful old buildings nestled along the Rhine, which I immediately recognized from my visit there the previous year on a Rick Steves tour; I must have passed it in the dark and not even noticed on my way to Romania. It didn't even appear on my Rail Map of Europe. I was glad I'd already seen it or I would have been angry to have come so close to such a picturesque town and not been able to stop. I wondered how old Herr Jung who gave us a town tour was doing.
The stretch of towns along the Rhine in the area is one of the prettiest I'd seen in Europe. Then after Bonn we approached Koln (Cologne) where I finally had to stop to change trains for Brussels, only there were no more running that night, so I booked the first one in the morning and stepped outside the station to find a hotel. I looked up and almost gasped at the colossal Koln cathedral towering over the platz. Checking back on my list of "things to see in Europe", the "Dom" was the one must-see of Cologne that I had emphasized. And here it was in my lap, purely by chance. In the fading light it looked solemn and mysterious, brooding over a multitude of people who, almost to a person, wholly ignored it. There is an overpass across a street that requires one to walk up the front steps of the Dom to reach it, and I watched passengers leave the banhof station and do just that, but nobody even so much as gave the magnificent structure a glance. It's amazing how quickly one becomes used to things. I took a quick stroll around the area which, as the usual manner of historic cities, has been turned into a pedestrian shopping mall, with the requisite fashion stores, McDonald's and Starbucks, which serve so well to bring history truly alive. I retired to the hotel lobby where I had a final German beer (Kolsch) and caught up on my email, before going to my room and watching some of the Olympics (for the first time with English narrative).

The next day, I had just time to step inside the cathedral for a peek (truly an awe-inspiring sight) and snap a few photos of the outside, although I wasn't happy with the light. Then, in just about 3 hours, I was in 5 different countries: after passing thru Aachen, Germany the train sliced across a tiny corner of the Netherlands, then into Belgium to catch the Eurostar chunnel train at Brussels which passes over a bit of France before tunneling under the channel to England. It would be difficult to be in 5 states in the U.S. in that time, I think, although I'm sure it's possible somewhere. By the end of the day I was all the way back in Bicester, England at my brother's house, after a nice, quiet train trip to London, a quick Underground ride to Marylebone (even conductors pronounce it differently) station and just in time to catch the commuter train to Bicester.
After a last night's packing I caught the same train back to London to figure out how to get to Heathrow airport. There were several ways to get there and I didn't have a huge amount of extra time, but luckily I happened to take the route that transfers at Paddington, whereupon I spotted signs for a "Heathrow Express" train. Exactly what I wanted! Instead of riding around and fighting crowds in the underground, I eased into a seat on a nice, quiet train going directly there! And as this was my last chance to use the "first class" aspect of my Britrail pass, I made the most of it, stretching out in the large seats, enjoying the fact that I was the sole occupant of the entire car.
Then after the uneventful flight home where I watched a few movies I was back in the U.S.A., after 6 months of almost non-stop travel. Rest was not to be, however, as I left in two days for San Francisco to check out a job and look for a place to live, should I decide to stay.

Next: What I learned from my travels.

Romania Revisited

I know what you're thinking: "Dave, you had three weeks left to go anywhere in Europe, and you went to Romania?" I know, I know. I could have seen Provence again, or Venice, or gone down to Naples and the Amalfi Coast. (Hey, I could have seen Capri; why didn't I think of that?) But I've spent a lifetime visiting those kind of places, the ones with the marble palaces, the stunning vistas, the pretty seaside villages; this trip was about seeing the real Europe for once, the places not just for tourists. Anyway, I just had to go back and see everyone I had made friends with (human and otherwise). There's something special about Romania, in spite of its faults. It beckoned to me, and I had to answer. (And it could be argued that a certain Romanian girl named Sanda may have had something to do with it as well.)
And what a busy 10 days it was! We started out checking on some small groups of street dogs that she regularly fed; some had been spayed and re-released and she wanted to make sure they were doing ok. They live behind businesses and places where it's fairly safe from cars. At one site some poor people lived in an old, unused industrial building and (I think) helped feed the dogs. One posed for a photo with Sanda; an interesting-looking fellow, indubitably. I'm not sure I agree with his wardrobe tastes, but perhaps he doesn't have much choice there. Anyway he seemed like a nice guy, which is what really matters, right?
On the way back home we visited my favorite Romanian dog, the famous "Baby". She was still at Grandma's house where I stayed in May; she looked great and pranced around like a puppy, but frustratingly, still won't let me or anyone else pet her. I really wanted to make that my final accomplishment before I left. I was also sad to see Baby still living in the same former chicken coop, and only let out by visitors; they don't want her wandering in the common area shared by Grandma's neighbors, and Granny's too old to watch her.
The next day was spent meeting other old acquaintances; we hooked up with Andrea and Otilia, the two lead volunteers of Animal Friends and brought some puppies out to the shelter and vaccinated them. I found another challenge there: to "tame" four 3-month old feral pups brought in recently. I was told they were so fearful they would vomit and defecate if anyone even went into the cage. It turned out one was already pettable the first day, as it had spent some time in a foster home; the rest were skittish and hiding from me, but came out for treats and ate out of my hand. Clearly they had made progress at the shelter already. I spent an hour in their pen letting them get used to me, but by the end still could not touch the others. They were one of my projects, but I only got to visit the shelter two more times. The second day I got another one calmed enough to pet, and day three saw a third puppy giving in to my caresses. I never could get that fourth one to surrender, darn it. But they'll all make wonderful pets for someone; they sure are cute enough, and still young enough to tame fairly easily.
We dropped by Grandma's again for another session of letting Baby out of her coop (and feeding her treats). She seems happy enough with people but it would be difficult to get her adopted by any but the most dedicated of guardians; not many would take a dog home that they couldn't even pet! I'm sure she will warm up to whoever takes her, she just needs a person with patience and a loving home.
That night we all went out for a drink in one of Sibiu's wonderful squares. I love how they're filled with tables for hanging out on the warm summer nights, and judging by the crowds, it seems that the locals would agree.
Day three was spent helping at a puppy adoption fair in a town park, where I met two girls from Finland (photo) who were there to evaluate some of the dogs for possible adoption back home. They work with other Romanian rescue organizations and were meeting the Sibiu folks for the first time (I was told that my blog helped them decide to come here!) The puppy fair was a success not in that very many dogs were adopted, but they got great coverage from the press. I haven't heard details, but Andreea got interviewed on national television, and I was apparently seen walking some of the dogs! I would love to get a tape of the news broadcast; anyway every little bit of coverage helps and hopefully the Animal Friends group got some good publicity out of it.
I won't bore you with an itinerary of every day, but (along with Sanda) I finally got to see some museums in town-- a nice little one on natural history and a pharmacy museum that packs more antique medicinal items into three rooms than I've ever seen in my life. We also spent a day in Sighishoara (kinda rhymes with stegosaurus), another historic Transylvania town full of towers, cathedrals and colorful cobbled lanes. While there we noticed posters for the "Circo" and I just had to check it out; it turned out to be about like the Circus Roma in Spain, with one lonely elephant hanging out in the hot sun (while we visited, anyway) and a motley assortment of monkeys, parrots, a tiger, even a crocodile and a giant tortoise; some of the animals were obviously just used as a kind of traveling menagerie. At least they had a bit more room in their cages than at Circus Roma, but it still seemed a pretty pathetic exhibition. We talked with the owner's wife who invited us into her little trailer while her kids played in the dirt outside. It's a pity that these kind of people can't find a better profession. Anyway we made a point of tearing as many posters as we could, sometimes having to watch out for policemen. It was our own little form of protest.

An odd coincidence occured the last few days: while leaving Grandma's one evening we heard a kitten crying in a tree. I climbed up to get her and she turned out to be a sweet, purring bundle of joy. We took her home until we could get her to the shelter. And on my last day there, at almost the exact same spot, I spotted a cute little month-old puppy that had also apparently been abandoned. He was certainly not feral as he came right to me and happily fell asleep in my arms. We checked the neighbors but no one seemed to recognize him, so we brought him to the second puppy fair the volunteers were holding, and as fate would have it, a nice young couple saw him and it was love at first sight! After holding him for a few minutes they declared they would take him home. (The volunteers assured me they would do a home check and make sure he was ok.) It was probably the fasted adoption on record in Sibiu.
But it was certainly strange that two well-fed, socialized animals suddenly appeared on the same street with apparently no owners around; Sanda was sure they were both dumped there, so it would seem it was a popular site for that. Since there is no public animal shelter except what the volunteers built themselves (and is now full), I suppose people believe they have no other choice, and apparently can't be bothered with trying to find homes for them themselves. I wonder how many children are heartbroken in town because Daddy or Mommy decided "that animal has to go". The kitten, that I named "Putsina" for "Little One", is at the shelter and hopefully will find a home one day. We certainly fell in love with her the two days she was at Sanda's place, but unfortunately neither of us could keep her.

So after many goodbyes at the puppy fair, I had to leave for the long train trip back to London and Bicester.
Final note: I was never supposed to be around to find that puppy; I was actually on a train leaving town the night before when I noticed my ticket was dated incorrectly and it was too late night to fix it that night. I had to return and leave again the next night. So maybe things happen for a reason. I guess that pup will never know, but fate sure worked out well for him.
P.S. Oh, and I never really got to pet Baby; the only thing I could do was lightly brush her cheek as she took food from my hand (see video soon). The darn girl was still just too skittish, but hopefully Sanda and the rest will be able to work with her and get her placed. I'd love to come back next year and visit her in some happy home. Well, at least I got a bit of video of her to remember her by.

Next: the final journey home.