What a wonderful story. There are no words to describe how nice it is to read something like this from someone who honestly is happy for what they can "see" and not for what they can't. Thank you so much.
Courtesy Sally Hobart
Alexander: 'The change in the sound of my footsteps, as I stepped from concrete paths to wooden boardwalks, combined with clangs of larger boats, told me I was at the harbor'
HEALTH TRIUMPH
Traveling Blind
What it's like to tour Europe using all your senses—except sight.
Oct 24, 2008
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I coiled and uncoiled; stood, and straightened my legs from their arthritic twist. Phew! Maybe I could be ambulatory again. "Can't sleep?" my husband asked.
"The bus seat won't go back."
Bob yawned. "What time is it?"
I checked my braille watch. "2:15 Brussels, but maybe earlier, if we're in Germany."
Bob muscled the lever. The seat flew back, and I sank into its depths, comfortable for the first time in four hours.
What had I been thinking—persuading Bob to buy a Euro bus pass that put us on the road for two nights? I wasn't a young '70s hippie anymore; far from it. It had been 34 years since I'd developed a preference for bus travel, over rental cars, over high-speed trains. Back then, we were on our honeymoon in Ireland, and Bob had assumed we'd rent a car. "If we're squeezed into an isolated little box," I argued to my new husband, "we won't get to talk to the Irish."
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