(I’m including examples of songs I heard while in Europe in 1985. I’d like to say that I recall music of local origin, but alas, my brain wasn’t always trained for this…yet.)
Previously: Euro Pilgrimage ’85, Ch. 5: A critical Mass in Rome — and the famous Pecetto bus incident.
Having overcome a transport-related mishap fully worthy of the Keystone Kops at their slapstick cinematic apex, in early June of 1985 I managed to reach Pecetto Torinese, a village set amid the rolling northern Italian foothills of the Alps.
I used my own two feet to get there, and the ramble was unexpectedly grand. In retrospect, I sometimes reflect that it would have been better had I embraced walking from the very beginning as a primary mode of European exploratory transportation. Of course, my level of consciousness hadn’t yet developed to such a stage. I was a neophyte; the stroll to Pecetto was a fluke, and my brain barely accommodated trains, much less bicycles or hiking boots.
At a later stage of my development there’d be European beercycling, and some of the best times ever, but it would take a good while. By then, I was ready for it. Those of us who are...
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