Independent travelling can be an interesting thing. I had some rough timescales (if only in my head) as to where my travels might take me, and when I might move on; when I departed for Boston, MA in mid January 2009, but things didn't pan out quite as I had planned. One of the things that happened, and I am very glad that it did was that I met and got to know good people. I enjoyed their company and companionship.
I took the view that travelling is more fun when you are with friends and I compromised. Not necessarily in terms of where to go, but the speed at which I planned to go there; so I could stay with these new and wonderful friends. But nevertheless, I've observed that groups of people form and stay together for a few days. But then, and despite any bond that may exist, the group fragments and moves on. People have different priorities for their own travels. So as an independent traveller travelling on your own, you join and leave different groups as time goes on.
Jean-Jacques was a core member of the crew that I travelled with in Boston and then New York. And then we went our seperate ways. What is weird, is when you meet up with the same person in a totally different context it feels strange. I was delighted to see Jean-Jacques. But something in me screamed out that I know J-J from the East coast of the USA, not from Brussels.
I had a ferry to catch from Calais to Dover. Our time in Germany had passed so quickly that I suddenly realised after ten days, that it would soon be time to go home. So two days prior to the ferry leaving Calais, we left Saarbrücken and headed to see J-J in Brussels.
I had only been to Brussels once before, and I had completely forgotten what a lovely town it is. My companion had this mystical ability to dream her way to youth hostels and we managed this, once again, without any problem. The weather was fabulous the architecture is great and we were just catching the last of the daffodils in the park. My stay in Brussels included two trips to local public houses with J-J. It was lovely to see him again.
The morning Ferry meant leaving Brussels at around 0530. An easy two hours or so on the Auto-route brings one to Calais and the Ferry. Although I guess it's quicker, I can't really understand why people take the tunnel. Taking the Ferry is so much more of an experience. I love boats, an on these particular boats there is the thrill of leaving the port, seeing the white cliffs of Dover and then coming into Dover. I'm not quite sure how to express the thrill, other than what I've already said. But boarding a Ferry fills me with a frisson of excitement.
As we disembarked the Ferry in Dover. The weather was sunny and warm. Good old blighty.
No comments:
Post a Comment