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Letter to my granfather, Art Hill who his grandkids called "Bobby" Dear Bobby, Still unable to believe my own senses. Here I am across the ocean in Europe. The summer now draws to a close with much left to be seen and hope of seeing all places in the future when I may once again for fortunate enough to be in Europe. All in all, the cities look pretty much as in America in that everybody drives like madmen, honking their horns at red light and taxi cab drivers swearing at everything in uncountable traffic jams that may found at every corner. Many of the buildings however are unrivaled for beauty in America. These building, ancient ruins, medieval gothic cathedrals and palaces the date to the 1700’s hit at cultures these people must have developed long before Columbus ever set foot in the Bahama Islands. But buildings, ruins, and mountains can be seen on postcards and pictures and that which I am seeking while over here cannot be photographed, that is an understanding of people living differently than I and speaking a different language. I had an excellent opportunity to see these people, the German in particular, in a closer light than most tourists when I worked for six weeks in a factory in Germany at Stuttgart. After my brief glance at them, I found these people to be loving and “full of life”, traits so rarely found in the economic society of money makers in America. Oh yes, these people enjoy making money, but that I believe is secondary to living in compatibility and enjoyment with neighbors. It has been a wonderful experience for over the past three months and someday I may be able to come again. I will try to present a chronological order of event concerning my trip. I arrived in London at the end of June with Mickey Coult, who you met when we were in Dundee. There we bought motorcycles and headed immediately for Spain, through France. One day in Spain my motorcycle stopped running. Repair cost $120 so I cashed a check for $150. This was stolen, so no money left to repair the cycle. Then on a train Mickey and I went to Switzerland and the beautiful Alps. After 10 days there we went to Stuttgart, Germany, where we were lucky enough to get jobs in the Modernfold factory. Mickey left for home after one week, a I stay to work. After three weeks Dad arrived and we spent a wonderful time together. At the end of August, Dad and I flew to Paris. From there after two day together Dad went on to Spain and I began traveling by rail through Europe. From Paris I want to Antwerp, Belgium; Amsterdam, Holland; then south to sunny Rome, Florence and Venice, Italy. Then I overslept on a night train headed for Innsbruck, Austria, and awoke in Stuttgart, Germany. Dad was there again, so I saw him for one more day. For the next six day I will hurriedly visit Vienna, Innsbruck, Salzburg in Austria and Munich, Germany, then to London where I shall fly home on the 22nd of this month. I am, with love, Your grandson Scott Sinnock |