Begin at the beginning (Interail part 1)
30th June, 6pm, my father comes to inspect my packed rucksack. He cannot lift it off the floor of my room as it is so heavy. Immediately, he upends it onto the floor and removes ¾ of its contents. I am reduced to 1 skirt, 1 pair of trousers, 1 pair of cropped trousers and 6 t-shirts to get me through 12 days abroad. I wonder how I’ll manage it.
1st July, 5am, I wake to the incessant beep of my alarm clock, which goes into a crescendo as I attempt to roll over and ignore it. I search for the off switch and drag myself from my bed into the shower. Dressed and breakfasted, I drag my rucksack to the car, check my money-belt for passport and tickets, and my father drives to Waterloo station. We have bad traffic problems but arrive at 7.40am, to find Esther standing with leaning on her boyfriend Lee at the top of the escalators where we agreed to meet. Vicky arrives with her parents a few minutes later and the three of us say our goodbyes and head through to board Eurostar. The 8.27am train leaves on time and we sit discussing the Amsterdam guidebook, and comparing how tired we are: Esther wins, having had just 1 hour’s sleep the previous night, due to Lee’s sister coming home from a school ball at 2am and demanding conversation. A while into the journey, we are approached by a market-researcher, whose survey we willingly complete. I’m not sure we’re any use to her, as Eurostar has caused us no problems and we have not had to interact with any of the staff. Nonetheless, she rewards us with a £6 food voucher for use in the buffet carriage, with which we purchase a sumptuous mid-morning feast of fresh fruit salad and toblerone. At Brussels, we search for lunch and end up in a food court, where I am insulted by the server, who speaks to me in English despite me having placed my order in French. We catch our Intercity train to Amsterdam, whose seats are covered with bright orange leather. A family sits near us, and its members seem unable to sit still, constantly swapping seats and even moving carriages, only to return a few minutes later. We are also stared at to a worrying extent, by the men who come and go between stations.
To be continued...