Thin Places

We fly to Minneapolis in the morning and then onto Amsterdam for a week long Rhine River cruise on the Emerald Destiny.

I’m excited, but apprehensive as well. It’s not my preferred mode of travel. A lot of people; too much food; and little opportunity to go it alone.

In 2023 when I circumnavigated the globe over nearly six months, I would occasionally be at a port while a cruise ship was disembarking. Or in an Old Town where some obediently followed a guide, pennant high over head. I tagged along on one such occasion, vowing never to do it again.

Each to his own of course and, at a certain level, I can understand the attraction. A good friend of mine, a judge, once he turned seventy-five, went on five round-the-world cruises with his partner over an eight year period. He had wonderful photos and always timed the cruises so he never had to deal with the snow.

But the challenge for me on this sliver of a four month cruise, is to carve out time each day to seek out the “Thin Places”, those unseen, neglected nooks that feed the soul. I’m not talking about great cathedrals or even tiny churches. It’s those places that, when your vision is just right, transport you.

When I was traveling, I fell into this particular way of being in the world. Upon return, I grieved for the loss.

One example, to better clarify, was the afternoon spent in Bhaktapur, Nepal, known as Khwopa by the Newari. There were tourists afooot, for sure, but “Thin Places” were not far off.

There was plenty to hold one’s attention.

Women visiting.

Men playing games,

or just walking.

But a shift occurred, as sometimes happened, and Pa and I were soon on the lookout for “Thin Places.” As one writer put it, “thin places are those places where the walls are weak.”

Pa and I had been there before.

Like when a stairway calls you up,