The main focus of my stay was family, but I would spend the last night with friends. I would go see Roelof after he would come back from work and at some point, Viking would join us. I would spend the night there, and then I could go straight to the Eurostar terminal the next morning.
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| On my way to Roelof |
When I got there I first caught up with Roelof over a drink, on the balcony. Micha did the cooking. Spectacularly, as usual. And after dinner we returned to the balcony for more drinks. Viking was at a promotion party, so he came a bit later. Unfortunately, not before after bedtime. Oh well; I thought I would be able to cope.
In order to not keep Micha awake, who wasn't 100% and had to stick to conservative bedtimes, we went to a nearby terrace. Viking soon joined us.
Viking had been on holiday, Roelof and Micha had been away twice and would go a third time, Roelof had done things on his house and had exciting events coming up. We had all read books and seen films and listened to music. And had thoughts about climate and AI and the nuclear apocalypse. Enough to talk about!
Then the pub closed, and we all went home. Then followed one of the less successful parts of my trip: the night. Roelof asked if I wanted to the balcony door open or closed. What was more important: get fresh air in, or keep mosquitoes out? And I am not used to having to think about mosquitoes at night, and I like fresh air, so I said open. And regretted it.
I woke up a bit sleepy the next morning. The mosquitoes had had a whale of a time! I counted 14 mosquito bites on my left leg alone. That makes me appreciate my rather mosquito-free time in Wales again.
Travelling back to the UK went smoothly. I had a direct train to London, which was great. Getting to Euston was fine too. When I was at the picnic benches awaiting news of my train, some lady waved at me. She came up to me and said she recognised me from the Eisteddfod. I had never expected to have a lively conversation in Welsh in the middle of London.
Soon after that, things turned for the worse. My train, which would get to Wales via Stafford, Crewe and Chester, was delayed. Initially only by 20 minutes, but soon the sign said that getting to Crewe would be faster by a train that would leave 41 minutes after the original departure time of my train. Shit! How bad would it get?
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| Delightful Euston |
Then there was an announcement. My train was only 20 minutes late after all. And it duly trundled all the way to Bangor. Soon I was home. And I got to sleep in my own bed, next to my own cat. It had been good to be in the Netherlands, but it was good to be home as well!
