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It was 1968 and the world was in turmoil as my sister and I cast off into the unknown. We found passage on a freighter crossing the Atlantic and disembarked in Tangier, Morocco. Hitchhiking across North Africa to Egypt, we crossed the Mediterranean Sea to Greece with its many treasures. Nearly penniless, we found work in Germany and romance in Paris. Our funds replenished, we set out overland, bound for India. Exploring Ceylon (Sri Lanka) we chanced upon a schooner from our hometown and signed on as galley slaves. Reaching the Seychelle Islands, our adventure took an unexpected turn.
Exploring cultures in upheaval, we encountered companions, guides, heroes, lovers, thieves, warlords and gurus. We scaled the heights, stumbled and fell only to be helped up, humbled, and blessed by the kindness of others.
Jude, twenty was haunted by her past. At twenty-four, I was older but not wiser, and threw myself into the fray, joyfully embracing whatever life had to offer. Bedazzled by the dizzying display, my sister and I traveled by the seat of our pants and found ourselves back where we started, battered but not broken, and ready for more.
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