The Clothes On My Back

We are back to the pace of a week ago. Moving every two or three nights, our 'whirlwind' of Europe continues. We took a much needed hiatus from the journey in the Ukraine, a town of 14,000 called, yet definitely not spelled, Keetsmine. Mariya Turchek, a friend of the Zimmerman family for the past 7 years, graciously hosted us in her home. We were spoiled by her generosity. We were treated to the finest in local Ukrainian cuisine, we stayed in her 'little house,' a small space, independent of the main home, complete with bathroom, bedroom and kitchen. We truly felt humbled by her, and her family's, treatment of us. We were forced to sit down while the rest of the family would prepare a meal. We wouldn't be allowed to clean up or otherwise exert ourselves in the least bit. It was an amazing testimony to the serving hearts of Mariya and her family. While time may yield more reflection of these six nights, we were just so blessed to be among 'family' for a few short days. The time went fast and yesterday brought some tearful goodbyes.

As Mariya and her son-in-law, Pasha, pulled away from the Lviv airport (by the way, this was the smallest airport that we had ever seen or heard of), we continued our European Adventure, knowing that by the day's end we would begin the last leg of our journey. As I said, Lviv airport was about the size of my living room. Ok, I'm homeless I don't have a living room, but maybe the size of your living room. Fifty people packed out the waiting room. The check-in counter was A counter, under a stairway and operated by the same two individuals regardless of what airline was flying that day. I think they may have simply had alternative suit jackets depending on the airline; red for Austrian Airways, blue for LOT Polish etc. Anyway, after a long and arduous 30 seconds of the most lax security we had ever seen, we planted ourselves next to the coffee table in the waiting room. An hour later our bus arrived, to taxi us out to our eager aircraft. Aircraft is perhaps a generous term. This was also another first for us, you could actually see the propellors. They weren't like your typical airplane, jet engines booming, the propellors 'started up' when the pilot was ready. Anyway, we made it off just fine, a few jerks and bumps typical of a smaller vessel (I guess) and landed in Vienna. Whitney had been hoping for a good ol' American candy bar and cup of Starbucks coffee, but as we had arrived much later than expected, I resisted her plea. However, as we approached our gate a large snack shop awaited and we stuffed our bags with gummi bears and M&Ms. The flight was delayed (due to our late arrival, sorry EVERYBODY else, don't blame us), so we sat for a few minutes before boarding. Two short hours later we landed in Paris and went to retrieve our bags. Now let me say, up to this point we have been very fortunate. Last night, our luck stopped. As the conveyer belt made one final trek around the now-empty baggage claim, my hands were empty. Whitney's bag had made it from Lviv, to Vienna to Paris, mine, had not. So now I sit here in Brugge, Belgium (we arrived at 1am this morning) with simply the clothes on my back. No, really. We plan to spend two nights here and then backtrack to France where we begin our final week-long descent to the south of France and 'home.' I guess I won't have much trouble deciding what to wear today.

Well, off to sample some Brugge delights: chocolate and beer!