72 hours in Belgium and the Netherlands

72 hours in Belgium and the Netherlands

*Translator’s note: this has been translated by myself, the author, whose first language is very obviously not English, so I apologise in advance for whatever makes zero sense. That might not be necessarily due to the translation itself but hey, you’ve been warned*

Once finished the long trip through Asian worlds and after having noticeably reduced my savings account to a bunch of scared numbers looking towards a dark negative abyss, a sensible mind such as my own would have taken the decision to stop travelling for some time, because as my wise father says “We have to save for times when we don’t have”. But my wise father and my sensible mind do not know what kind of offers you can find in Ryanair…ay…as an exploitative corporation it’s horrible but what prices it offers…so, shut up dear conscience, because we still have much world to visit ahead and our salary hasn’t been raised to the level of our principles…  

But the thing is that after spending Christmas in Spain, April in Spain again and June in faraway lands I still had two days of annual leave to take forcibly before October (when I’d go back to Spain, but that’s another story…) or I’d lose them. Two days I could have used to do useful stuff or relax from the stress derived from my condition of public worker in a country where they have treacle for blood. But I had better ideas about how to spend my two days and my first thought was to pretend I was brave and go on a solo camping adventure in the Highlands but I ruled it out partially because I’m a coward and partially because… Nah, mostly because I’m a coward whose age is no longer appropriate for these bouts of madness… and talking about madness, I’m going to explain how Alba and I ended up in Eindhoven a couple of weeks later (No, I hadn’t heard of it either).

As I said, I had two days left and she had two. We told the rest of our group of expats but hey, some already had their holidays booked, with no days left and some in debt (I don’t want to point at anyone, right, Sandra?).

So we checked what we could do with two days (four with the weekend), searched for cheap flights, selected a few options and ended up deciding as you do: with a mathematical model of weighted scores. And maths is crap. I hope Fergus can forgive me one day for saying this but we got our least favourite destination. But numbers had talked and we had to follow them to the last because numbers don’t lie. Or so you believe until you see some graph in newspapers…

To sum up, after requesting on Tuesday the days off for that Friday (adrenaline rising, yeah!), the numbers took us to Eindhoven and now I’m glad and I hope I can explain why in less than 73500 words (no, there aren’t any extra zeros).

We flew on Friday morning, leaving home at that time when they’re still laying out the streets and I can’t remember much more until I got off the plane. I could have been reading but I’m not sure. There isn’t a single muscle or neurone fully functioning before the first coffee (sometimes even the second…) and that day wasn’t an exception. After the landing, I start having some vague memories, like that the guy in the information desk looked like he had a broom stuck up his arse, and when you asked him for… you know, information, he acted like you were the one who shoved it up there.

Sadly, that was a constant during the whole trip. The last day we were joking about setting up a training academy for customer service targeting staff for transport and information stands. Because everyone else seemed friendly enough, but not transport people. Rude. All of them. However despite his best efforts we managed to find the bus to the city centre, although with the wrong ticket and a few bad answers.

What a cute little post, I didn’t even reach 700 words this time… Pocket edition. Although being honest, this was supposed to be just a short introduction, a wee paragraph, and the whole day would be just one post… So naive…

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72 hours in Belgium and the Netherlands