So strange. Twenty-six years later and I am heading back to Europe. Once again, I am living in Bournemouth (lots has obviously happened since) and I am taking a train to Waterloo, then St. Pancras onto Brussels.
Life has changed dramatically for everyone. Mobile phones now have the internet as standard. Mobile phones are now their camera too. And mobile phones are the train ticket. This means you need a good mobile phone. And mine is pants. No battery life, so I plug it in at every opportunity.
I am quite tired before I even start. Originally I planned to make a film on this journey but the thought of filmmaking makes the holiday seem like more work. The sickness of our time is people filming their experiences (on their phone) to create content. I want to have a break from that too.
Interesting to read my diary from before. I am surprised how many friends I seemed to make along the way, none of whom I stayed in contact with. Will I be so communicative this time around? I hope so.
Also interesting how spontaneous it all was. I’ve had to plan it much more already, which is stressful enough. I have already been told that my first sleeper train from Brussels to Berlin is cancelled, so I have booked a flight to Warsaw. Expensive.
Thankfully I am not a student anymore! But not rich either. Thankfully cash is rarer these days and most people use cards (or their phone!) Even more thankfully, most of Europe is now using a single currency, the Euro, which would have made life much easier twenty years ago. Oh yeah, and Britain isn’t in Europe anymore. Lots happened since the last adventure.
Later – 7.52pm Brussels
Arrived on time. Everything was actually fairly smooth. Don’t know why this surprises me, but was nervous given the experience of trains at home. Have wandered around Brussels. It is my second time here. I briefly visited a couple of years ago and liked it, and wanted to visit again. Saturday night is busy. Lots of Moroccans out for the World Cup game against Canada.
The hostel is cosy and I did speak briefly to a room mate but feel rusty talking to people after so many years of marriage. Perhaps my confidence is low?
Had a lovely steak tartare in a restaurant. Now having a beer watching football having found a seat in a bar. Nice vibes. Speaking broken French with a Belgian Moroccan in the bar. I’m alone and I know it.
