A time of gifts


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January 26th 2009
Published: January 26th 2009
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Last summer I stumbled upon a book entitled A time of gifts whilst browsing in a Polish used-book shop. I picked it up for two reasons: It was about travel in Europe and it was dirt cheap. I read it once, then again and by the time I returned home I had read it through at least six times, as well as reading random passages to kill time whilst waiting for a train or food. In short this is one of my favourite books ever.
If you are not familiar with it, I'll recap.

In 1933, an 18-year-old Patrick Leigh Fermor decided to take off and see the world. He says:

"Even before I looked at a map, two great rivers had already plotted the itinerary in my mind's eye: the Rhine uncoiled across it, the Alps rose up and then the wolf-harbouring Carpathian watersheds and the cordilleras of the Balkans; and there, at the end of the windings of the Danube, the Black Sea was beginning to spread its mysterious and lopsided shape; and my chief destination was never in a moment's doubt."

That destination was Constantinople, long a symbol of the exotic in many an Englishman's heart. Patrick wondered whether to go alone or bring a companion but decided that he had to go solo:

" I wanted to think, write, stay or move on at my own speed and unencumbered, to gaze at things with a changed eye and listen to new tongues that were untainted by a single familiar word."


Patrick pored over maps, borrowed 15 pounds from his friend's father to buy gear, said his goodbyes and hopped aboard a Dutch steamer headed for Rotterdam. Once he reached the mainland, he started walking.
His pack seems minimal, yet heavy by today's standards, as this is before the advent of polar fleece, nylon and such weight-saving materials. With him he had a sturdy rucksack, borrowed from a friend, a leather windbreaker (leather! Imagine the weight!), an army greatcoat, a few jerseys, flannel shirts and white linen shirts, puttees, a sleeping bag (which he lost within a month and didn't miss), a walking stick, a sketch book, a journal and pencils, and two volumes of poetry; Horace's Odes and The Oxford book of English verse (the latter lost within a month and not missed either). He wore nailed boots.
On his journey he met disposed aristocracy, gypsies, fellow travellers, peasants, mayors, circus performers, smugglers, nazis and -as described in a memorable passage- border guards who nearly shot him. This first book tells of his journey from Rotterdam to Budapest, and was followed nine years later by a second volume, Between the woods and the water, which continues from Budapest to the Iron Gate. The third and last part, as yet unnamed and unpublished (but as good as finished according to internet sources), ends in Constantinople.


Now: What has this got to do with anything, I hear you ask. Why are you yapping on about some weirdo's trip in nineteen-sodding-thirty-three? Well, as if you hadn't already guessed, I am planning a trip. From Rotterdam to Budapest (to start with). On foot (mostly).

See? Point.

Now, the world has changed in the last 75 years and my equipment will be quite different from Paddys. For starters, I'll be going in May, not January, so I'll have no need for puttees. I'll replace the heavy leather windbreaker with a modern, lightweight nylon one. Nailed boots are hardly sensible modern footwear, so lightweight - yet sturdy- hiking boots will take their place. Should I decide to carry a walking stick, it will probably be a collapsible metal one, rather than a stout wooden pole - although the idea of collecting Stocknaegel is quite appealing.
However, in principal my journey shall be similar. I'll mostly walk, although I am not above hitchhiking should I become tired. I will rely on the kindness of strangers, as I'll have very little money. Patrick had four pounds a month to live off, I shall have around 300 pounds at the most.


I have marked the trail on a map and shall try to follow it as much as possible.



So, wish me luck - I only have three months to get my shit together and build up a bit more stamina.


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