After one week together in Barcelona, Marilynn and I ventured out into solo travel. We will meet-up in Helsinki, Finland three weeks from now.

She leaves our hotel room for an early morning flight to Sofia, Bulgaria. I taxi to the train station for a long ride to Clermont-Ferrand, France. Marilynn researches her destinations well. On the other hand, I just look at a map wanting to ride a train from south to north.

Facing a nine-hour ride that transfers trains in Lyon, France, my anxiety level skyrockets upon entry into the Barcelona-Sants train station. Despite all the traveling that we do, travel crowds still freak me out. Plus, my knowledge of how to ride trains in Europe ends at the ability to purchase mobile tickets.

Barcelona Street Art- How I Feel Inside

I have no “Marilynn” to rely upon. She arranges transportation, has a plan, makes it all happen, and takes fabulous photos. My duties consist of accompanying her, booking accommodations, writing, assuring coffee in the morning, food, and beer at night. I am too nervous and jerky to snap photos.

Massive crowds running around the Barcelona train station surround a multitude of departure platforms, like ants crawling on a gigantic Kit-Kat bar. Departure and arrival screens display in Spanish, and do not show which platform holds your train until fifteen minutes or so before it leaves. At least they also display in the English language, unlike the ones in France.

Nirvana engulfs me when finally sitting on this train and gazing out the window for five hours. Euphoric disbelief just being here, doing this.

Countryside of France from the Train Window

French Countryside

The challenges of travel enhance our appreciation for small accomplishments. “I got this.” That is, until the train approaches the station in Lyons, where I must hop onto a different train. Anxiety replaces any hint of long-lost nirvana. No clue as to where to go and my train leaves in ½ hour. Wide-eyed, heart pounding in my Adam’s apple, I show my mobile phone ticket and shrug my shoulders to random passengers in the dreaded travel crowd. Freaking out more because nobody speaks English. An elderly German man notices, takes pity, and explains how to do it. Once on the train, here comes that nirvana again. I got this.

Viola! Three hours later, I sit at a sidewalk café in Clermont-Ferrand, one of France’s oldest cities. A beer never tasted so good, not to mention pizza made from croissant dough, Brie cream cheese, and bits of ham bacon.

French Pizza

The first sighting of Notre Dame of Assumption had me fighting back tears for unknown reasons, perhaps exhaustion.

Notra Dame of Assumption

Construction began on this wonderous structure in 1248 from the surrounding black lava rock in this lush, volcanic area of France. I do not know how Marilynn manages to capture photos of such monstrosities with her cell phone. I cannot. So, here is a photo of a smaller church.

St. Vincent de Paul

Only have three nights here, so better get busy hiking those dormant volcanoes that created this rock. I schedule a ride to the “Puy de Dome” main parking lot and the Uber driver speaks English! He marks my first conversation in days. Plus, he could not believe how old I am. “I could not hike it,” he says. “Smoke too much.”

Trail signs confuse me in my home country, let alone in France. I tramp on out anyway, figuring to turn back after two hours if nothing else.

Trail Signs at Puy de Dome, Cleremont-Ferrand, France

Quite soon, I am lost. No mountain in sight, but walking in the woods ranks as one of my favorite things. I spot a French couple approaching with a dog on a leash and will ask for directions. By the way, in Europe, people get irritated if strangers try to pet their dog. In France, they get angry if you just look at their dog for too long. No help here.

So happy to cross paths with my intended trailhead two-hours later. Rain cools me off during the straight uphill hike to panoramic views. Loving every minute of it.

I continue the awkward solo stumbling around thing. Meanwhile, Marilynn arrives in Sofia, Bulgaria in the pouring rain. She takes a free, walking city tour, where everyone is friendly and speaks English.

The Alexander Nevsky Cathedral, Sofia

The National Theater in Sofia

Sveta Nedelya Cathedral

We had heard that the people in Bulgaria shake their head “No” when they mean “Yes,” and visa versa. It is true! They realize this major difference, and do not shake that way to obvious foreigners. I could have tons of fun with this. Best to verbalize yes and no when visiting this country. And watch out for the changing of the guard. It could remind you of the Monty Python “Funny Walk” routine.

The Changing of the Guard

Marilynn’s favorite Bulgarian meal is “Kebapcheta,” made of minced meat with local spices and shaped into a long meatball. Served with “ketchup” made from roasted peppers, tomatoes, and eggplant.

Kebapcheta

She decides to take a day trip to Plovdiv, because it is not supposed to rain there. The city has some unique architecture and they still use the ancient Roman Theater for live performances.

Roman Theater in Plovdiv

However, Marilynn most enjoyed a trip out of the city to Asen’s Fortress. Great walking in the woods, and a dramatic scene. I bet that she did not get lost.

Asen’s Fortress outside Plovdiv

Her main event should not surprise anyone – the “Rila 7 Lakes Hike” where recent snowfall and melt allows walks to only four of the seven lakes.

Rila 7 Lakes Hike, Bulgaria

A 6.2-mile (10 kilometers) loop hike crosses numerous snow fields and circles around four of seven lakes currently in various stages of melt.

Rila 7 Lakes Hike

Rila 7 Lakes Hike

Rila 7 Lakes Hike

While Marilynn makes friends with a sexy Ecuadorian guy named Pablo, she primarily hangs out with Daria, a Ukrainian woman. At least that is what she tells me.

Rila 7 Lakes Hike

Actually, it would be hard not to spend time sharing with Daria as she was filled with tragic tales of the war. Her parents lived for eight months in a Russian occupied area. When Ukraine won back the territory, her parents were able to move to Kyiv to live with her for a better level of safety. You cannot imagine the horror of life in a war zone if never in one before.

As expected, Marilynn has not spotted one other fellow American tourist. Unexpectedly, I have not either.

Oh no, time for me to catch another train. Could not sleep last night, anticipating a long ride where I not only need to transfer trains in Paris, but also go to an entirely different train station to do it.

Stay tuned folks. While I take a train to Brussels, Marilynn busses to North Macedonia. Can’t wait to see what’s next!

Thank you, Abundant Universe!