Last night, around midnight, I jumped into a train in Breda, the signs told me it would soon set off towards Rotterdam. The train left earlier than it was supposed to and when it did the thought 'maybe something is wrong' popped into my mind. But the thing was moving anyway, and I ended up in Roosendaal, at the Belgium border, hearing that the first train to Rotterdam was leaving around 6 am. What a joke.
Some nice guy from the railway allowed me to sleep in an empty train (which was illegal as he told me and if somebody caught me or kicked me out, I never met him). He advised my to move to first class and he came back to bring me a cup of hot chocolate. It was fun to have my private train, but it felt like sleeping/dozing in public and the benches were small. The train was leaving at 5.20, which made me move back up my feet to second class again. I stood at my frontdoor when the clocks struck seven.
Mhmm. Hot chocolate. The only thing that could've improved it, was making it a large one, from Tim Hortons. Extra sugar.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
hollandse treinen... fantastisch avontuur toch altijd!!
haha, echt wat voor ons Lotje...! kusje reempje
You write very well.
Post a Comment