Dust. Great clouds of dust. It rises above the clumps of traffic like a column, to be blown sideways after it clears the walls of the homes lining the avenue that leads away from the Port. Then it falls into my face, my clothes, and my hair.
Sun. Blinding sunshine. Not as hot as the desert to which I was accustomed, but too bright not to wear sunglasses. Continue reading
Right after Christmas 1985, I kissed my wife and son goodbye, and flew to Naples, Italy, for my second NATO tour. Carol stayed behind to sell the house, while Daniel finished school. Continue reading
It had been cold and rainy, typical for the Mediterranean in late February, but when we pulled into Valencia, Spain, the sun came out for a while. The air was still cool, so I knew that this was going to be wonderful bicycling weather. By now, I had ridden my new bicycle in four countries. The streets of Toulon, Naples, Piraeus, Barcelona and Palma de Majorca were familiar to me. I knew almost nothing about Valencia, but from the charts I could tell that the topography by the coast was gentle. Continue reading
One of our first ports-of-call in the spring of 1975 was Toulon on the French Riviera between Marseilles and Cannes. USS William H. Standley (CG-32), a guided missile cruiser homeported in Charleston SC, was on deployment to the US Sixth Fleet (“Med Cruise”) with her new Assistant Operations Officer, Lieutenant. J.T. Hine. Toulon was the French Navy’s big base on the Mediterranean; the other was Brest, on the Atlantic. Continue reading
This is the first of the sea stories that I promised to post every other week. They will usually feature the bicycle, and will always be about working, traveling, or both. You will recognize them by the year in parentheses in the title. Enjoy! Continue reading
The Freewheeling Freelancer 