360 Degrees Longitude by John Higham Page A

day pushing Katrina around town in her wheelchair, looking for a place to read a chapter. After Katrina and Jordan had gone to bed, I tore the apartment apart looking for the book, but I couldn’t find it anywhere. Only the next morning did I find that Katrina was hiding it under her pillow. She and Jordan had been co-conspirators, having laid out their diabolical plan months in advance to keep me from reading ahead .
    We simply could not afford to live indoors in Zermatt; it became time for us to move on. Dr. Julen wrote up a letter in both German and English explaining Katrina’s diagnosis and advised us, “She should have her leg x-rayed again in about four weeks. It is possible that she could get a knee-length cast at that time. Don’t expect her to be ready to have the cast completely off until at least six weeks from now. Possibly eight. After that, it will be at least two weeks before she can walk without crutches. Good luck.”
    Before we had arrived in Zermatt we’d hit our stride and gotten into a rhythm of homework-cycle-sleep-repeat, and for the first time since we left London, cycling to Istanbul had seemed within our grasp. For years I had been anticipating the thrilling descent from Zermatt to Visp on my bicycle. We had also been talking up the hike to “our” apple tree. This was all impossible now.
    www.360degreeslongitude.com/concept3d/360degreeslongitude.kmz
    â€œHey, Mom! Why is that American family with those big bikes changing their clothes in our parking lot?” Use Google Earth and the 360 Degrees Longitude layer to find out.

SHATTERED BONES, SHATTERED PLANS

5.
Gargling with Razor Blades
    July 21–August 1
Czech Republic/Poland
    C hildren do not have an adult’s apprehension about landing in a new city, late at night, hungry, not knowing the local language, not having any local currency, nor knowing where to stay. To them, it’s all part of a grand adventure.
    The broken leg changed everything. A week after Katrina’s fall we found ourselves standing on the train platform in Cesky Krumlov, late at night, hungry, not knowing the local language, not having any local currency, nor knowing where to stay. Traveling by bicycle brought changes in our surroundings slowly. Arriving in the Czech Republic by train, our entire environment had changed in the course of a few hours.
    We had left our tandems in storage at Zermatt’s train station. Still unable to use her crutches due to her sprained wrist, and now with no wheelchair, Katrina was perched on my shoulders just like when she was three years old. We watched the train slowly depart, leaving us in this strange new place. September announced that she was going to look for information about accommodations, then disappeared.
    My gaze turned from our massive pile of bicycle panniers scattered about my feet to Jordan. I said, “Well. Now what happens?”
    Jordan looked up at me with a complete lack of comprehension. “You’re silly, Dad.”
    I lifted Katrina off my shoulders, sat her down on a bench, then turned to Jordan and said, “I’m not silly. I’m tired and could use an ice cream cone.” I pointed to a small convenience store. “Go over there and get me an ice cream cone, and when you’re done with that, see if there’s a tourist office and find us a hostel.”
    â€œDad. I never know when to take you seriously.”
    With some relief I spotted an ATM in the distance. One problem solved.
    We were refugees from the high prices of Western Europe. We had briefly considered the offers to stay at friends’ homes during Katrina’s convalescence but decided to head for Eastern Europe where we believed living indoors would be affordable. Camping in our current state was simply out of the question.
    While I was negotiating with Jordan for an ice cream cone, September was perusing the bulletin board at the train station. She returned with a small piece