Travelling with my mother

The third leg of this European trip was going to be a ride between the two Europes, the Western and the Eastern ones. Starting in Austria, heading Slovakia, crossing Chezck Republic and ending up in the most visible sign of the former borders: Berlin.



I was not alone this time. My brave mother was with me. She is 72 but still strong. My present for her was a tamdem parachuting jump. When she landed, she wanted to jump again.



In Wien we visited my two goals. The Belvedere, to watch the Klimt and Schiele art works, and the Prater, to put on the big famous wheel. Remember The Third Man, from Graham Green and the film by Orson Welles.



In Prague we had two nights just walking around fascinated by the beautiness. The city is an open art museum. And the beer is great. We were always thirsty.








The small roads we took across the green countryside were amazing and my mother was so happy.



And, of course, when we arrived Berlin I could say Ich bin ein berliner as I did in New York, Samarcand or Cape Town. I was there because I arrived step by step, mile by mile, suffering cold, hot, rain and wind. And my mother was there to see her son getting a new small triumph.