Europe trip planning has PRETTY much come to an end, all that’s left is the ‘easy’ stuff like deciding where to go. The buses and hostelling part is over.
#1b says he’ll meet up with me in Stockholm. We only have about 24 hours together but that’s a lot better than nothing. Neither of us can do any more than that. Is there any more I can say? Other than this. A journey not wholly in vain, perhaps.
#1b says, it would have been very nice to go to Poland with you.
I say, I miss you, and I’m looking forward to seeing you again.
I said, do you remember that night when Pavlov bought us all drinks, and we sat there talking? It was a rather magical night, wasn’t it. We sat there and talked and laughed and our eyes kept meeting.
I remember, says #1b.
There were things that they would say or do that only you or I found funny and we would look at each other, I said.
‘There were things that they would say or do that only you or I found funny and we would look at each other,’ #1b repeated. What, I said. It's rather awesome of you to say this actually, he says.
How? I ask.
It’s just nice is all, he says.
There aren’t many things between us that are left unsaid. How often in your life can you meet someone who will understand you on almost every level possible? I say almost because technically it’s impossible for someone to know you completely. Even you don’t know yourself completely.
Ennui, I say, and I wonder.
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Vignettes - me sitting on the banks of the Graslei and eating a cheap loaf of bread I'd gotten from a supermarket, I forget which - SPAR, Rossmann? I'd bought too much, and I ended up throwing them to the ducks, swimming below me. The ducks soon wisened up to the fact that there was food nearby, and they actually got out of the water and advanced towards me, clicking their beaks in a menacing manner that was most alarming. I hurriedly relocated, whilst making a mental note to never feed wild foreign animals again.
I returned to Maastricht before the sun had set, and slowly paced through the university town to Eddie's student halls. I don't remember what I was thinking anymore, of course I don't remember, except that I raised my head up and saw the statue of one of Maastricht's nameless patrons whose name eludes me now, and I saw that the torch he was bearing was now lit up, and a smile broke over my face.
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| Still Ghent |
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| And now Maastricht |
