My big innvation on this trip was to bring along five journals; in each of these journals I wrote a first entry, and then passed on the journal to a fellow Eurotraveller. I wrote my name, and my father's work address (so that psychos wouldn't have a home address, at a minimum), and instructions on the inside cover; the instructions amounted to, basically
Unsurprisingly, I didn't hear another word about the journals.
Until today (6 April, 2000). My father tells me that he received a letter today from one Nallieli Santamaria of California, addressed to me, c/o his office. I hope against hope that this is re: my journals; I can't come up with any other reason that someone I don't know would send me a personal letter c/o my father's office address, which I've never given out for any other reason. And I hope against hope against hope that this Nallieli write because she (? sounds like a girl's name, but what do I know) actually has one of my journals. Wow. That would be cool.
Update: my father FedEx'ed me the letter. It turns out that Nallieli has had, not the journal, but only my address, for TWO YEARS, and has only now decided to write me (wonder: did she write down the address in her own journal, and then just come across it again?). She says hello, and did I ever get the journal back, and how am I? Too bad that she doesn't actually have the journal, but still cool to get a letter all this time later.
Update 2: I wrote Nallieli back, and (s)he wrote me back. Ve's a surfer and recently ex-insurance adjustor in Southern Cal. I have a new penpal. Rock.