And as we draw closer to the end of our journey, and my motivation to continue writing plummets to an all time low, we arrive in Gent. “Gent?”, I hear you enquire, “But this post is titled ‘Amsterdam’!”.
Well spotted youngster! However as you’ll’ve noticed by now, Matt has a particular fondness for day-trips, and as such we were required to visit the lovely Gent.
Now, as I have already described Bruges, I shall not be spending a great deal of time describing Gent, because as we already know kids, all of Belgium is the same; Boring and quiet and quieter and boringerer.
But, it’d be rude not to tell you what we did.
We went to Gent, the marvellous three,
And whilst in Gent, the things we did see!
A road, a house, a car and a train.
A park, a bench, a duck, (Was there rain?).
Through Gent we slogged for roughly an hour,
The town had nothing! Not even a tower!
We walked and walked, and then walked some more,
Till Kilroy said something like, “Who’s idea was it to come to Gent?”, and then we all nodded in agreement and finished feeding the ducks.
Then we left Gent.
(For anyone who is wondering, it’s pronounced ‘G-ent’ as opposed to ‘J-ent’. Think of plosives).
After enduring Gent for roughly half the time we were in Monaco, we jumped on the train to Amsterdam.
Amsterdam, as we discussed at the beginning of this chronicle, is a great place to be and nothing illicit never goes on never ever.
Seriously, nothing happened.
We arrived in the rain, as is custom. I suggested that we take the tram to the hostel instead of walking forever and ever and ever. Matt and Kilroy however fancied a stroll, and so stroll we did.
About 40 minutes later we arrived at the hostel, having not eaten for roughly the entire day, and immediately went in search of chezburgers; yes, we are very fond of chezburgers.
We spent about 2 hours looking for them. Not because of a lack of McDonalds in Amsterdam. Not because of lack of chez in McDonalds. No, our journey was so lengthy because Matt, King of directions, led us in a delightful spiral around the city, and by the time we realised where we’d gone wrong, we were half an hour from the city centre. LOL!!1!
However, as we are 3 magnificent bastards, we did eventually locate our intended source of food.
Hamburgers: €1 = Understandable.
Chezburgers: €2.25 = Unacceptable!!
Seriously! €1.25 for a SLICE OF CHEESE!!
After having a moan at a clearly bewildered staff member, we settled for hamburgers.
They were ok, but what really spoiled it was the fact that about half an hour later we spotted a 20 pack of the shortly little squares of plastic for €1.25.
I’m going to stop talking about it now because my fury is giving me a headache.
I’m going to skip out the rest of the last day and a half.
Not because I can’t be bothered writing anymore.
Not because we didn’t do anything, (We didn’t do much to be perfectly honest, due to having no money).
No, I’m skipping out the final part of our story because I’ve noticed, after reading over the posts describing the final few days of the journey, that I’ve become tired, bitter and repetitive.
This isn’t because of who I’m with, or where we’ve been, (Okay, Gent was really shit but forget about that for a moment), or even the fact that we’ve been away from home for a whole month.
It’s a mixture of things, and I can’t quite put my finger on any of them.
I think that it’s because I’m home now, and as I sit writing this in my living room at 3am, I’m beginning to realise that I’ve left it too late.
The journey’s over, we’ve seen everything we set out to see, (and quite a few things that we had no intention of laying eyes upon), and even though we stepped off the plane less than a week ago, the whole trip is beginning to fade into another fond, treasured yet distant memory.
But as much as I attempt to romanticise my reasons for cutting things short, to sex up the clear lack of effort gone into the last few posts, to add a little jazz to the final page, I can’t help myself for honesty.
I procrastinated, and here is the end result. A shit, cheesy, “We had good times and bad times but ultimately pulled through”, ending fit for a Hollywood shitcom.