Travels With My Father
TRAVELS WITH MY FATHER, 1959
D
ad left it to me to plan this trip. We flew from New York to London first class, and in those days, the airlines treated you like kings. On the plane, my father went bananas over his filet mignon and red wine but complained of having no sleep. Arriving in London, we went on a horse and buggy trip around town before our next flight. Dad, an insomniac of sorts, saw a man on a sidewalk, and as we traversed the meat packing district, remarked “I was in first class without a minute’s rest, and there’s a man fast asleep with a chicken on his head.” A minute later, he ate his words, falling fast asleep, his head bobbing up and down, in step with the horse’s hooves. Isn’t it amazing the things you remember? On to Prague we went for a four-day tour of the then Communist country. I recall striking up conversations with young people in restaurants and on streets. They were far more fascinated with us than vice versa. New York, democracy, new cars, my father’s job – all were subjects which seemed like fantasy to these Czechs. This was sixty years ago, so there’s lots I do not recall. However, it is possible that our next stop, after Prague, was the then Soviet Union. Since my college major included Russian history and government, I planned for us to spend almost a month in that country.
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