Oh my gosh! I managed to get a seat, at no extra charge, on the very next train leaving Brussels for London Waterloo. There was no time to shop for sunglasses (did I tell you I lost mine a couple of days ago?) or cigarettes (guess I’ll have to give up again).

I sat in my seat and pulled out the left-over bagueffe, prosciutto, cheese, sun-dried tomato spread and half a bottle of red wine. My picnic, my celebration. Two sour-faced spinsters sat across the aisle looked on with twisted faces, a look of disgust (what? it was 5p.m., and I’m hungry) but I didn’t care. Don’t you know what I’ve done? I wanted to say. Even sitting in a seat facing backwards didn’t bother me. I was going home.

As I gradually got closer to England, it was like a valve was slowly being turned and the panic I’ve been feeling, that’s been building up since “5,” I think, was being released into the atmosphere.

Two days ago I couldn’t wait to get back to England and start taking anti-depressants again. Now I’m not so sure. Today I feel a little differently. Stronger, calmer. I pushed my “frontiers” to the point of collapse, to where I didn’t care if I finished the trip or not. Now maybe I can just find a balancing point. We’ll see.

I really did it, though. I traveled by way of the alphabet through Europe and survived.

Regarding the ticket, it looks like I may have solved the problem (fingers crossed). In addition to receiving an e-mail from DSB admitting to the error, I managed to get the ticket stamped and corrected manually in Austria (with the help of Barefoot). It’s amazing how much more helpful people are when you actually speak their language. Hopefully, the conductors from here onwards won’t give me too many problems.

If all goes according to plan, my rail ticket expires on August 28. The end is finally in sight and I will have completed the alphabet before the end of the month.

Woo hoo!! Could it be that I’ll actually finish this self-inflicted challenge??

After a couple of very relaxing days in the small city of Olomouc in the Czech Republic, I’ve just arrived in Vienna to spend a few days with Bernd but have just realized there’s a problem with the last Inter Rail ticket I bought in Copenhagen.

It was supposed to be the last ticket I needed to finish this trip. I paid 500 Euros for an All Zone “Global” pass which lasts for 30 days. You can’t buy one for any fewer days. But the stupid woman who sold me the ticket typed the wrong expiration date. It says it expires on Thursday this week. Have just spend 30 minutes with the sales office at Westbahnhof to see if they can correct the expiration date but there’s absolutely nothing they can do. The only authorities I can take it up with (I think) are the ones in Denmark.

I’m now wrestling with the option of leaving Vienna immediately (not go climbing) and rushing through three countries in five days–which I think may be even more than I’m capable of right now–or biting the bullet and buying a one zone ticket on Friday, which will give me 16 days to finish. To buy individual train tickets will be even more costly.

Bugger it! I’m so close to the end and thought things would be simple from here onwards. But obviously not.

Bus trip started off well. Someone sat in my reserved seat.

“The people at the back took our seats,” they said when I showed them my ticket. Well, that’s all bloody fine and dandy but what about my seat?

“There’s a seat behind us,” an American said from across the aisle.

“But the bus is full, so what happens when the person who has that seat reserved gets on?” I said. Why can’t people just stick to their designated places? It makes life so much easier.

“Well, I guess, ” the American said, “Your pretty little self will just have to deal with it then, won’t you?” Oh, that wasn’t patronizing, was it? I felt like punching the little shit but instead awkwardly squeezed into the available spot.

“I guess your pretty little self will just have to deal with it then…”

As the bus pulled away from the city over the bridge, a full moon rested low in the sky. The obnoxious little twat sitting in front of me joined the moon and pushed back his seat, right into my lap. I was a prisoner in a confined space and had little to look forward to for the next twelve hours except to plan my fantasy attack on the little fucker.

Perhaps a cheese wire cutter over the headrest and pulled tight around his scrawny ass neck would do the trick….. Dream on, Vic. You’ve not got any wire and the cheese and crackers in your bag just won’t cut it.

The guy was lucky. This time. Next time I’ll show him exactly what’s what…

Each year during the Ventspils Festival, a competition is held to find the best flower “carpet.” To vote for their favorite, people drop stones into plastic buckets placed next to each work of art.

Hhhmmmm….. sounds like that would be easy enough to fix…

Anyway, this year’s winner is the last one shown here.

   

  

There’s me battling away trying to figure out how to type the English characters I need using a Lithuanian keyboard and I’ve just been told that if I hold down ALT + SHIFT the keyboard automatically switches to English!! Duh! Hopefully, I’m not the only person who didn’t know that.

I left Senec, Slovakia at 1050 and caught the train to Bratislava, to what I thought was the main station. No. Ended up at some other Bratislava station, Nove Mesto, which was the wrong bloody one. Then had to wait one hour until 1240 to get to the right place.

1335 hours and the door had still not opened to Platform 1 for the Vienna train due to depart at 1340.

“You must ago around to Passport Control,” the woman at the ticket counter said. How was I supposed to know that?

At last back on an air-conditioned train heading towards Vienna, Austria. Things were getting better already. Or not. How many bloody stations are we stopping at? I’ve counted at least ten since we set off. Fuck knows when I’ll reach Vienna. Maybe not until nightfall.

The plan had been to catch the direct (with only one change) 1430 to Copenhagen out of Westbahnhof but because of my delay in Slovakia, I missed that one. The next option left at 1622 hours but there would be connections. Eight of them.

Only got as far as the first one, Munich, before I missed the next one. Received SMS from my brother inviting me to Barcelona for a few days. He and his girlfriend would be there. Since I now had options, what with missing my train, I asked about trains to both Barcelona and Copenhagen.

It would be complicated to reach Spain. I ummed and ahhed and thought about it—What about flights? No, too expensive—before plumping for the next Copenhagen-with-only-one-change-train. I didn’t have to pay for the ticket—although did opt for a cozy couchette behind a curtain—and I’d be keeping on track, heading in the right direction to complete the alphabet.

I slept pretty well, although didn’t realize there were blankets until I woke up this morning, so things were a little chilly at times. Also didn’t realize when making the reservation that there’s an option of an “up” or “down” couchette. I had to scramble my way to the top using the aluminum step ladder. Once ensconced, though, I was happy as a clam.

Was expecting to arrive in Hamburg at 0753 hours so got my bags together and waited for arrival. Next stop was Hannover. Miles away from Hamburg. Hhhmmmm… Perhaps there was another time change that I’d been oblivious to. But that was impossible.

“Enschuldigung,” I asked a gentleman that passed by in cycling shorts, “Wieviel uhr is es?”

I managed to pick out sehr, very, and spater, later.

0848 hours and things just kept getting better. I asked the conductor what time we’d arrive in Hamburg and she said something along the lines of “Spater, zwei und halb stunde,” which I think meant two and a half hours late.

I eventually arrived in Hamburg after 1030 and am now waiting for the next train. Must be feeling much better because I don’t seem to be bothered in the slightest. Smiling in fact (maybe something to do with the positive comments everyone’s made).

So, that’s been my last few hours. How you doin?

PS: Love ya tons, Bro, and can’t thank you enough for the kind invitation and hope you understand. Maybe you can take me to Barcelona to celebrate when, and if, I get to the end of this journey………

I woke up in Senec, Slovakia, with big puffy eyes from all of my crying. The bottle of wine I’d bought to get drunk and forget about everything the night before sat virtually untouched on the bedside cabinet. Now that’s a bad sign.

I considered my options:

• Go straight back to England, take a break or simply give up;
• Continue heading east and visit a “T” place in Ukraine; or
• Head north to Czech Republic for “T.”

None of the options really appealed to me. I was tired of the heat, the standard of living, and the language barrier, but I really didn’t want to fail.

I looked at the map and decided to head to Copenhagen, Denmark. Don’t ask me why. It wasn’t even one of the countries on my list. A last minute decision which I rationalize as follows:

• It may be cooler;
• My rail ticket is still good for a couple of days to get me all the way up there,
• If I’m stuck on the train for 20-plus hours, I won’t have the need to be outside in the heat running myself down even more; and
• There are several “T” places in Denmark I can choose from once I get there.

And, if I still need to see a doctor, my E-111 card covers me there, too.

It’s taken me four missed connections in 24 hours and I’ve now only just made it to Hamberg, Germany. Will get the next train to Copenhagen in a couple of hours.

Not sure if I’m coming down with something or what, but have decided to go off-line for a couple of days and take a breather. Hope to enlighten you with uplifting and witty stories when I return.

It took just over an hour to get to Rajka from Vienna by train, and it only took me 30 minutes to walk the entire length of the village–twice–to snap some photographs. According to Multimap, Rajka is in Slovakia, but it’s not. Okay, it’s only 2 km from the Slovakian border, but it’s definitely in Hungary.

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