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CHAPTER 1: EUROPE IN A BACKPACK
 By Jim Caple |
Previously at 24 College Avenue: After a very eventful school at State College (see archives), the residents of 24 College Avenue have mostly broken up for the summer. Many are heading to Europe, including Josh Williams. Josh was rewarded with a summer job after discovering the truth about Blood and Muscle, the powerful secret campus society his history professor had been researching for decades . . .
Josh was so frantic with worry that he no longer even noticed the hangover that felt like U2 was doing a sound check inside his skull. Confirming all preconceptions about ugly Americans, he pushed his way past a dozen others and forced his way to the front of the queue at the tourist information office.
“Yes, I will help you, please?’’ said the young woman in a dark blue t-shirt that read: Prague is for Lovers.
“I’ve lost my tour group!’’ Josh blurted. “You’ve got to help me find my tour group!’’
“No worry, please, this happens. Tell me, please, who is the name of your tour leader?’’
“That’s the problem -- I’m the tour leader!’’
Prof. Everett had been so indebted to Josh for leading him to Blood and Muscle that he pulled some strings to get him a summer job with an old friend who owned the Europe in a Backpack tour company. Steven Townsend started the company shortly after he and Everett spent their post-graduation summer backpacking around Europe. Townsend believed that most tours missed the essence of Europe by racing from country to country, staying at bland hotel chains and visiting only the most popular (and usually overrated) sites, so he bought an old bus and began offering his own long, bare-bones driving tours of Germany, Austria, France, Great Britain, Ireland and Italy. His groups stayed in campsites and hostels and ate on the cheap with the locals, an experience Townsend was convinced gave the true feel for the countries. He called his tours “Europe in a Backpack’’ (no suitcases were allowed) and they steadily grew in popularity over the years until he owned 30 buses as one of the biggest tour operators on the continent.
Normally Townsend’s guides began by first taking the tours as paying customers and enjoying them so much they wanted to continue the experience. It usually took at least one summer as an assistant guide and often two before Townsend trusted someone could handle the responsibilities and emergencies a tour leader faced as a matter of routine. However, when a leader for a scheduled World Cup tour of Germany and neighboring countries abruptly eloped with his assistant, Townsend had little choice but to accept Everett’s assurances that Josh would be a fine guide.
“There might be a few anxious moments,’’ Everett told his friend, “but Mr. Williams has good instincts. It will be a good experience for all.’’
The World Cup tour itinerary included meeting in Amsterdam, driving to Cologne for an early round match, continuing down the Rhine and through Bavaria to Munich and Salzburg, followed by a swing into the Czech Republic before finishing up in Berlin for the title game. It would have been an ambitious schedule for an experienced guide who knew the language, routes and potential trouble spots. Unfortunately, the only German that Josh spoke was “Zwei bier, bitte’’ and his knowledge of the country was limited to the director’s cut of “Run, Lola, Run.’’ He had planned to study the guide books on the flight over but had drunk so much at the bon voyage house party John Higgins threw for him that he passed out while the plane was still on the tarmac and didn’t wake up until it touched down in Amsterdam. It took him three hours wandering through the sprawling Schipfol airport just to find his 24-person tour group.
Josh somehow survived the first two weeks, though, thanks to a couple factors working in his favor. One, living with soccer-fanatic Ahmed Muhammad for an entire year had given him a complete knowledge of the strengths, weaknesses, tendencies and personalities of every team in the World Cup. Two, he could rely on his multi-lingual passengers to translate for him and point the bus in the right direction. Three, at Higgins’ recommendation Josh began the tour with a stop at the Cricket “coffee shop’’ in Amsterdam where they spent the evening getting high on marijuana and then wandering through the Red Light district. This had not been listed on the itinerary but it earned Josh the group’s enduring friendship. As did his insistence that the bus always have several cases of beer on ice.
“What do you think, guys?’’ Josh said glancing through his guide books and maps on a typical morning. “Wanna stop and see King Ludwig’s castle at Neuschwanstein or just drive on to Munich and hit the beer gardens?’’
“Beer gardens! Beer gardens!’’ the passengers shouted back.
Josh didn’t find it odd at first that every passenger on the tour was male and apparently only interested in soccer and beer – after all, it had been billed as a World Cup tour. He was simply disappointed. Talking with the other tour leaders, Josh had been assured that he would sleep with at least four passengers before the summer was over. His only chance was with a prostitute who had followed the group back from the Red Light District, but by the time Josh realized she was on the bus, they had already pulled into Cologne where she caught the next train back to Amsterdam.
He grew a little suspicious, however, when it became evident that all 24 passengers knew each other, even though their passports indicated they were from different countries. And that they all seemed to be taking orders from one of them, a swarthy Londoner of Afghan descent named Taliq who had piercing eyes and rarely smiled. And that Taliq held private meetings when Josh was away, motioning with a wave of his hand for the group to go silent as soon as he returned.
“Who the hell are these guys I’m driving around?’’ Josh asked himself when Czech border guards pulled the bus over and interrogated each passenger in a cement blockhouse one by one. Almost three hours passed before the officials told Josh he could continue on.
“What was all that about?’’ Josh asked when Taliq got back on the bus.
“Nothing,’’ Taliq snapped back. “Just drive. We must make Prague by dusk.’’
“Nothing?’’ Josh said. “He needed to talk to all of you individually for almost three hours about nothing?’’
“He wanted to know who we thought will win the World Cup,’’ Taliq said, giving Josh a look that made it clear he should ask no further questions.
Josh’s worries subsided almost as soon as they reached Prague and checked into the hostel. Taliq apologized for his short temper at the border, saying he was only worried about his team’s next match against Brazil. He then invited Josh to go out drinking in the old town. “Tonight, is our treat.’’ he said. “All the beer you can drink.’’
The unpleasant incident at the border was quickly forgotten in a cellar bar near the historic Charles Bridge. Josh had heard that Czech beer is among the finest in the world and he was determined to find out whether this was indeed the case. He decided it was true somewhere around his 13th Pilnser Urquell and was announcing this very fact to Taliq when he passed out in mid-sentence.
When he woke the next morning, he found himself completely alone on the street underneath the ancient astronomical clock. He staggered back to the hostel only to find that his group had checked out in the middle of the night. Worse, they had taken the bus and driven away, stranding Josh.
Panicking, Josh rushed to the tourist information office, hoping they somehow would know how to help yet realizing there was very little reason to think they could. Which is how he came to be standing in the office with his head pounding and his heart racing.
The helpful woman in the Prague is for Lovers t-shirt motioned for Josh to relax. “Maybe is not that bad, please?’’ she said. “Maybe they are just out touring on their own, yes?’’
“I wish,’’ Josh said. “But, I don’t think they’re interested in touring. I think they might be terrorists.’’
Next: “Morning Sickness’’
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