Day 1

Brussels : Arrived

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The windows were black and my ears were popping like mad but as the train pulled in and the lights illuminated strange signs the excitement poured over me again. Pockets full and weighed all the way down we made our way into the mild wastes of Brussels. What a dive. We waved away taxis in favour of the tram and further Independence. Immediately I regretted it. We walked fully around the station and deciphered the randomness of the Flemish signposting methodology to find the shiftiest tram stop beneath the train station. We fought our way onto the rickety thing through the tiny slot folding doors and when outside we realised that in the dark the stop sign were invisible. Guessing our way to the slummy part of town we walked the directions we had then had to ask in French at a Kebab shop for better ones. Jay kept pushing on and his persistence finally payed. The hostel was grim but once we stepped inside found to be warm and cosy and perfectly serviceable. A four birth room would be ours for about 6 hours until we had to report back to the train station again for our next leg – to Berlin.

Day 1

Meetings and Eurostars

After a while waiting for some sign that my fellow travelers had already begun their own journey’s I decide to attempt to contact them myself. No response from any number stored in my emergency phone and I started to panic again. I tried to be more useful and fill my time by picking up the train tickets, which turned out not to be possible without Jay’s bank card. While doing this i realised that our train was delayed and all of a sudden I was in Manchester again waiting but going nowhere. Just then as I sat down cold, grey and dejected James rung. We were to meet outside WHSmiths. I walked, again, the entire length of the station to find him. He was 100 metres behind where I started. His mum was really nice and she took she took some great hyped up ‘lets go!’ type action snaps. Around 5 minutes later Jay rang. He had arrived back from his aborted first attempt out and was now outside WHSmiths. Sarah was next after meeting and saying some final goodbyes to her mum and our holiday could begin properly. Jay handed out some presents for me from Katie and Doug, Alex and Kavita. They were amazing – I only opened them later but I was so blown away by the gifts that I just had to mention it.

We checked into the Eurostar lounge where the temperature was through the roof. I suggested we relax having just made it through passport control and dropped our bags when the call was made to proceed to the platform. The queue which I thought gave us twenty minutes wasn’t for our train and when we realised we had to scoop our bags up and burst past ticket check. At first we ran as little joke, we couldn’t miss the first train! When we realised we were heading in the wrong direction down the platform the joke stopped being funny and we sprinted to our coach and jumped on board. For some reason we had been bumped up to first class, our fellow travelers didn’t seem to happy with it as we puffed and panted and pushed our massive bags into our seats. The hostess on board wasn’t best pleased either. Still, the service was worth all the downward looks. Free champagne, free wine and beer, free food and over sized chairs. A great way to begin our trip.

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Day 1

Lone Trip

Everyday for weeks leading up-to today I had been apprehensive about what we had decided to undertake. Now the beast had caught up with me finally, I resolved to take each leg one step at a time. Manchester to London being the very first. Manchester felt like a place I used to live, with memories and issues all of which are behind me now. It feels like somewhere I wouldn’t want to be for long, visits – OK, maybe.

The Mega-bus was late, mum was getting teary and dad was snapping pictures. All I could think about was missing my St. Pancras connection. The Eurostar was only due to leave at around 5.30pm, the clock read 9.10am. I guess i was in no danger. Was I just anxious to begin or itching for an excuse to pull the plug on the whole terrifying ordeal. The replacement bus rolled lazily around the corner of Portland street and Chorlton Street and once on board with bags stowed and comfy I couldn’t stop smiling. The answer felt good when it arrived.

London, in contrast to all of my previous visits, felt welcoming maybe because I knew i wasn’t staying and only had one clear objective in mind – cross the city with all of my stuff in time for the train. I had done meticulous preparation for this simple task. I researched the line, the number of stops, the subways final destination and the general compass direction. I even had an alternative route plotted in-case i had to walk to Kings Cross from Victoria. My mega sack now hung light off my shoulders as I bounced through the streets striped with low slung winter sun from the coach station towards the tube. Once underground my cold weather clothing became strikingly out of place. The heat was stifling but the pain was over quickly and I felt a swell of pride as I wandered up through St. Pancras station looking for a place to sit and eat the last of my packed lunch. I walked the full length of the arcade upstairs and down and also did at lest one full circuit of the stations plan. I thought it an excellent way for me and my rucksack to get to know each other better. It was heavy but not too heavy, cumbersome but not unmanageable. I settled on a seat next to a separated couple handing over their child. He was from Leeds and she had a strong Birmingham accent. At first I thought how did they meet? But then a second question replaced it, why chose here to perform such a personal ritual? They seemed like good friends now and their son was happy. Everything was clean and shiny and my adventure had begun.

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