high and lifted up, and his train filled the temple.” Isaiah 6:1
Erik Mebust and I had coffee together last weekend, and we talked about all his exciting plans for the next several months. Erik will be studying literature for a term at Kings’ College in London, and I was able to give him some advice about museums, historical sites and churches. He also has two or three weeks after his term finishes to do some travelling around the rest of Europe, and a big list of places he’s dying to see. There’s Paris, of course, and the Rhine Valley in Germany, and wouldn’t it be wonderful to see the Alps, and he has a friend spending a term in Montpelier, down on the Mediterranean Coast. And I was trying to slow him down a bit. You don’t want to spend half of your time on trains, after all, and you might well be able to go back again later in life and try some of what you will need to miss this time.
But of course, by American standards, all these places are really quite close. This is part of the wonder of Europe to an American. In a few hours you can travel between places whose languages, histories, foods, music, and architecture are completely different. New York State really isn’t all that different from Minnesota. But Spain and Poland are a world apart, and the distance is really about the same.