(no subject)
I spent the morning in the lobby of an upscale hotel drinking their complimentary coffee and basking the the atmosphere while I wrote heartfelt thoughts in my journal. The reality was that it was raining outside, likely cold, and if I'd stayed at my hostel the likelihood of my being high from second-hand smoke was great. My train wasn't leaving Amsterdam until midafternoon.
Shortly before the rain cleared I made my way across town, backpack on and rearing to go. At the ticket counter I requested a one-way to Brussels Midi, where I would embark on a first-class journey on the Chunnel.
"You speak English?"
"Yes," I replied.
"Thats American English. And you're going to Brussels?"
"Yes."
"Hi. I'm Nick. I don't know what I'm doing. Mind if I tag along?"
Somehow I'd given the impression that I'd mastered European travel. He looked no older than me and carried a large pack as well. His accent matched mine. I put my guard up (you can never be too careful) and told him I'd be happy to help, even though I was a bit new to the experience as well.
I led him to the correct platform and we stood there introducing ourselves for a number of minutes. When a seat opened up on the bench he offered it to me and I sat and ate peanut butter and jelly (probably more out of boredom than hunger) while he discussed his travels with a retired couple from Michigan who loved vacationing in Holland.
On the train we sat across the aisle from each other. I slowly discovered that he was actually in his late 20s and worked for the Powerbar company. Which is why he carried so many in his bag, and offered me one, which I took because I enjoy free food. His friend was on a business trip and he was following him, a day or so behind, to each destination, in order to reap the benefits of a free hotel room. We talked about our favorite beers and I made him a list of my favorites to try. As we approached Brussels I inquired as to what station he'd be meeting his friend at.
"There is more than one station?"
"There are three. Brussels Nord, Brussels Central, and Brussels Midi--which sounds like it should be the center one, but "midi" actually means south."
"Oh man. I dunno. He didn't mention that."
A long and nervous pause.
"I would suggest Central. Its the busiest and its near all the touristy stuff," I told him.
"Yeah? You think thats it? You think thats where he'd meet me?"
A few minutes later we said our goodbyes. I never saw him again. I never knew if he was to remain lost in Brussels forever.
Shortly before the rain cleared I made my way across town, backpack on and rearing to go. At the ticket counter I requested a one-way to Brussels Midi, where I would embark on a first-class journey on the Chunnel.
"You speak English?"
"Yes," I replied.
"Thats American English. And you're going to Brussels?"
"Yes."
"Hi. I'm Nick. I don't know what I'm doing. Mind if I tag along?"
Somehow I'd given the impression that I'd mastered European travel. He looked no older than me and carried a large pack as well. His accent matched mine. I put my guard up (you can never be too careful) and told him I'd be happy to help, even though I was a bit new to the experience as well.
I led him to the correct platform and we stood there introducing ourselves for a number of minutes. When a seat opened up on the bench he offered it to me and I sat and ate peanut butter and jelly (probably more out of boredom than hunger) while he discussed his travels with a retired couple from Michigan who loved vacationing in Holland.
On the train we sat across the aisle from each other. I slowly discovered that he was actually in his late 20s and worked for the Powerbar company. Which is why he carried so many in his bag, and offered me one, which I took because I enjoy free food. His friend was on a business trip and he was following him, a day or so behind, to each destination, in order to reap the benefits of a free hotel room. We talked about our favorite beers and I made him a list of my favorites to try. As we approached Brussels I inquired as to what station he'd be meeting his friend at.
"There is more than one station?"
"There are three. Brussels Nord, Brussels Central, and Brussels Midi--which sounds like it should be the center one, but "midi" actually means south."
"Oh man. I dunno. He didn't mention that."
A long and nervous pause.
"I would suggest Central. Its the busiest and its near all the touristy stuff," I told him.
"Yeah? You think thats it? You think thats where he'd meet me?"
A few minutes later we said our goodbyes. I never saw him again. I never knew if he was to remain lost in Brussels forever.