INSPIRATION

By Sharon May

Everyone who knows I write said, upon hearing I was going to Europe, “You will get so many ideas.” Makes sense. New places, people, and experiences broaden one’s world. So I packed a notebook for my month-long journey, expecting inspiration. I was not disappointed.

When we reached Amsterdam, strangers began asking Peggy and me if we are sisters. Not sure why it matters, but apparently a lot of people care about that, though I was not the least concerned how they were related to their companions. Well, not enough to ask. I am sure there is a story in there.

Tour guides provided the lion’s share of ideas for characters, particularly since I met at least four a week. Our Russian guide held degrees in Arabic Studies but chose a 6-month gig as a guide so he could earn enough to travel the rest of the year. He taught us as much about art at the Hermitage as he did about Russian history and culture. Surprisingly, he freely spouted his opinions of Russian and Soviet politicians, none of which were glowing.

The cannabis-smoking, left-wing, former Punk Rocker/Songwriter, and former squatter in Amsterdam provided humor and political comment on the drive to and from The Hague and Kinderdijk. Just as entertaining was the ex-patriot who gave tours of Amsterdam’s coffeehouses after fleeing America with her disabled husband 7 months ago when they determined their finances were tenuous at best once the Affordable Healthcare Act was gutted.

I can’t forget the former East-Berliner who talked for 12 hours non-stop. She gave us a wonderful glimpse of Berlin and her experiences during the fall of the Wall, and then talked to the bus driver or on her cell phone during breaks. Never met anyone who could talk that much.

The one who put all to shame was the 19-year-old in Tallinn, Estonia, who already had worked three years as a guide. Her knowledge of the town and country was only surpassed by her poise and graciousness. She too had lots of negative opinions of the Soviets.

We also had the worst tour guide ever, who pointed out sites, but did not give any context or information about them. By afternoon, we were fed up and ran away to see Brussels on our own. On the three-hour trip back to Amsterdam, the guide never spoke except to ask for tips. Later, I realized he looked and acted like a younger version of the worst teacher I ever had.

I also solidified ideas for my creative non-fiction piece. That surprised me. I guess I expected stories about Northern Europe. Maybe I gained enough distance to put my past in perspective, or maybe I am bound to write what I know best, or maybe my European experiences have not yet incubated. Probably, I was just free and relaxed enough to hear myself think.

Obviously, I recommend travel for inspiration. Go away, if only for a day. Your writing will be better for it.