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136                     AN EXILE OF THE MIND                                                                    MAGGIE, THE FLOWER CHILD                        137




























                                                                                                                 The Byzantine church on Paros dates back to 326.


                                                                                                      televised in Italy and getting a ride  packs in first and climb on top.
                                                                                                      was  a little  easier. Polizia tried    Such a relief to stroll through the
                                                                                                      to  confiscate  our  passports  as  we  watery lanes of Venice with not a car
                                                                                                      camped  in a disused  parking  lot  in sight and a boat to catch instead
                                                                                                      near the  River Po in  Piacenza. We  of a bus. Palaces of the Renaissance
                                                                                                      were  visiting my aunt’s sister  who  and the Gothic lined  the  canals of
                                                                                                      didn’t have a clue who I was. Under  this gently sinking city. We stayed
                                                                                                      cover of darkness we  sneaked  to  at Europe’s melting pot of itinerant
                                                                                                      the outskirts and woke up the next  travellers, the YHA with its million
                                                                                                      morning in a sheltery field of sheep.  dollar view.
                                                                                                         Hiking along miles of Italian road,   In the Adriatic port of Trieste we
                                                                                                      two girls in a tiny Fiat, smaller than  split up to make thumb travelling
                                                                                                      an English telephone box, pulled up  easier. I went by train to Zagreb in
                                                                                                      alongside us. Russell and I, both over  the  former Yugoslavia. To walk its
                                                                                                      six feet tall with oversized backpacks,  streets under mournful grey slabs of
                                                                                                      tried to pull in our packs on top of us  apartment blocks beneath a haunted
                                                                                                      with  no  success,  then  to  cram  our  sky,  and then on to  Belgrade with
                                                                                                                                           its reading rooms and art shops.
                                                                                                      Fisherman mending nets on Paros.     Outside of Skopje, the birthplace of
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