Just tired and a little stressed, but I’m sure I looked the same to him. 13 At the next castle, Kronborg, I stood on the high north wall at the top of the great stone tower overlooking the sea, watching the sun glitter on the strait of Oresund. Sweden was clearly visible on the far shore. A Russian freighter passed fully loaded with her hull deep in the water, bound for St. Petersburg, I supposed, followed by a Silja Lines ferry. A lone fisherman sat in a small wooden boat, rocking in the wake of the great ships. Something flashed in the sun. Was the fisherman trying to signal his presence to the ships’ captains? I would be signaling if those giant ships were bearing down on me. I would be waving my arms and hollering big time. Below me, the Murphy family stood on the path at the water’s edge, photographing one another using a big, old-fashioned camera, with first the sea, then the castle, as a backdrop.
