pressed into a crevasse
against the wall of a tent.
Half my clothes beneath me
half on top
and a pack at my feet.
It was 6AM.
I lay down at 4AM.
I said goodbye to
one of the two
Frenchmen with whom
I was sharing
the tent.
I packed my clothes,
my skateboard,
and left.
It was a long walk
to the bus stop,
the bars along the way
were still thriving
and I wondered if these people
would sleep in the days they were here.
I walked down gated isles
past the litter and graffiti
and paused to take a photo
of this temporary prison
etched into the countryside.
I had left my poster
when I stopped to take
the photo.
I had got the poster a week earlier
at a gallery
in Amsterdam.
It was Rembrandt's birthday so
not only was it half price but
I got a free poster too.
A poster I had cared for all week.
I didn't go back for it.
It was 7AM
at the bus stop and nobody knew
what time the buses were coming.
I did not share their feeling.
It was 8AM
when the bus came.
I got to the Saint Ghislain train station
in time for the 9:10 train.
This was too late.
It was my second trip to Brussels
this week and I walked it's
station for
the fourth
time.
I approached the
counter and told the
man I needed to
get to
Zurich by 10PM.
He did some typing
and some printing
and said
"you have one transfer in Basel."
I called my parents.
They weren't impressed.
Because I was cutting it close.
Very close.
From then on
there was nothing I
could do except
make trains.
And at 1PM,
I made my first one.
It took about 7 hours to
go through
Luxembourg,
France,
And Switzerland.
Most of this time I
slept and
wrote
the third act of
an absurd play I had
started weeks earlier in
Sweden.
At one point and attractive girl
sat opposite me
we didn't
speak I kept on writing.
It was 7:30PM,
when the train
arrived at Basel.
I looked at the time and
my next train left
in 5 minutes.
I hadn't eaten or drunk since Brussel
and there were vending machines everywhere.
I didn't stop.
I had to navigate
more than 50 platforms.
I made the train.
On the way to Zurich
the backwards landscape
turned plains into
hills and
trees.
A businessman sat opposite me and ate
his sandwich,
his apple,
and drunk his juice.
He reached into his bag and
out came
the chocolate.
He ate the whole block.
Once at Zurich I looked
at the timetable.
The train to the airport
would be my 15th
train this fortnight,
excluding metros.
Zurich station was grand
and
everyone was
young
wealthy
and smoking.
Even if I did have the time
in Basel
I wouldn't have been able
to buy any food for
all my money was
in Euros
and Kronor.
It was 9PM
My last train departed,
the most luxurious
of them all.
I got to the airport,
greeted my family,
and checked in.
Within half
an hour
I was
off the ground.
I ate
I drank
I slept.
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