KENNETH E. HALL 31 October, 2013 HOUSTON
✞“The moon fled eastward like a frightened dove, while the stars changed their places in the heavens, like a disbanding army.
'Where are we?' asked Gil Gil.
'In France,' responded the Angel of Death..."― Ghostly By Gaslight
🕮 I was in my 21st year in the middle of my 9-month-long "Grand Tour of Europe," and as a young man of low means, I spent as little money as I could. Back in 1973, it was actually possible to do "Europe on $5.°° a day."
I had left the Mediterranean island of Sardegna by seagoing ferryboat and later that day took in the beautiful falaise, or cliffs, of southern Corsica. The only way to see this exquisite work of Nature is by water. We arrived midday at the seacoast town of Bonifacio, which is on the southernmost tip of the island.
Dockside, as I disembarked, I got a dubious welcome: I was handed a leaflet advising me that I had just arrived from a "Cholera-infested" country!! It went on that I should monitor my physical condition and to seek immediate medical attention if I noticed any cholera symptoms. CHOLERA! Just what I needed!
Having enjoyed a stroll through the town, I decided to head for Ajaccio, Corsica's capital and largest city. Setting out with my backpack along a highway following the road signs I tested my luck and stuck my thumb out. I had never hitchhiked before in my life. To my surprise, I heard the air brakes of a medium-sized truck, and smiled as it pulled up alongside.
I hopped in and shook hands with a kindly black man from Tunisia. He gave me a ride to the next town north, called Porto Vecchio. It was fascinating to me that, although all the place names, family surnames, etc., were in Italian, everybody spoke French! I figured if my luck held out this way, I'd make it to Ajaccio by nightfall. But my luck did not hold out, the cars and trucks all sped by without so much as a wave, and dusk turned all to soon into night. By this time I had walked to the outskirts of town, and there was absolutely NOTHING to see or to do: no youth hostels, no pensione, no stores, restaurants, hotels, nothing - not even a gas station. Now the stream of cars became blurs of headlights piercing into the night, and they became fewer and fewer.
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I looked around into the gloom and my eyes caught sight of a sign for a local cemetery. At first I laughed at the ridiculous thought that crossed my mind. No way! No way I am going to sleep… in there!! But fatigue caught up with me, the cars continued to whiz past, my options dwindled by the minute, and slowly - ever so slowly, the idea actually became plausible.
I stared a few minutes at that huge iron and stone portal, wondering if I could actually pull this off. Then I entered the cemetery cautiously. There was no gate, nor any groundskeeper shack. In fact, there was no life anywhere near this dreadful place; no HUMAN life, that is!
Determined to conquer every morbid thought that entered my mind, to overcome that primeval fear that we all have of the dead, and of their final resting places, I took off my backpack and set it down on top of a nearby tomb. Resolute, I opened my sleeping bag and unrolled and spread it out over the flat, grassy surface of a family plot. Logically, I thought, what could happen here? I was completely alone, by myself, nobody to bother me. To be sure those who lie beneath me will bear me no malice for sharing their resting place - if only for one night. And besides, the price surely couldn't be beat!
I succeeded in my positive self-talk, and finally convinced myself that these departed would have no objections. Just to be sure, however, I asked permission of the departed, as if they could actually hear me. I figured if could certainly do no harm. Growing fatigue took over, I crawled into my sleeping bag, and fell immediately fast asleep. I slept quite well, and deeply, too, for a few pleasant hours.
Suddenly something awoke me. My eyes were wide open in the total darkness. I sat there, staring into the total darkness of my sleeping bag, and realized that there was, indeed, something outside - something fearful - something that began to cause my heart to race and my breathing to become heavy.
Sooner or later I must come face-to-face with whatever awaited my sight... it was time to face my fears.
Against my better judgement, I poked my head out of my sleeping bag - and saw a fearful sight that remains with me until this day!
The total darkness that shrouded me when first I lay my head on the grave was GONE. Everything around me was illuminated with an eerie silvery glow. My watch said it was 2:00am, so the light was not the dawn. There were no lamp posts nor city lights visible; there was just this scary silvery glow. I knew there was more to this. There HAD to be. I FELT it. So I began to seek the source of the glow. In gazing at the weathered tombstones and crosses all around me, I looked over my head, past the headstone where I lay, and what I saw made me shudder! My eyes caught sight of the bright, full moon partway up in the sky. Puffy clouds covered a part of it, and the moon and clouds were framed by the crooked fingers of a long-dead tree, imitating the skeletal fingers of a dead man.
The scene was straight out of every ghost story I ever read, or horror movie I'd ever seen! I lay there in my knapsack, transfixed. Then it happened: from the distance came the demonic howl of a wolf!!! It was as if the scene was set to frighten me away.
As I took in this scary sensory experience, I realized how silly all this was. There was just this big moon and clouds, and a dead tree. Nothing more to see here. I chuckled to myself, tucked myself back into my sleeping bag, and fell asleep once more. Again the morning came, the sun arose, and I had gotten a great night's sleep. I thanked the occupants of the tomb for their hospitality, and proceeded to hitchhike once more.
It wasn't so very long after that, I got a ride all the way across the hilly, woodsy island to Ajaccio with three French guys in an old, beat-up Peugeot deux-chevaux. We had a great trip through the island's interior. When they asked where I spent the night last night, I told them the spooky tale of a moonlit night, craggy tree limbs, the demonic howl of a distant wolf, and a graveyard sleepover.
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This story is an excerpt from "Carnet de Passage - EUROPA 1973"
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