Tuesday 8 August, 1013 Central European Time, Schaerbeek, Brussels, Belgium

After a delay at Tournai due to a broken-down train ahead of them, the Night Ferry from London arrived just over an hour late. In fairness, the conductor did apologise to them for the delay when returning their stamped passports and also the two sets of loud clanging on the ferry. Not to mention the loud group of men returning with their duty free. Emily Gordon had said her goodbyes at Midi station to the south and went to get an onward train to Frankfurt.

Nina Weaver had decided to drive her van to the station to meet any arrivals from the London train or other points. She was now waiting inside the elegant concourse, holding a sign with 'Overland Adventures' on for any arrivals.

She was looking forward to meeting the next guests and hoping that it wouldn't be too hot. Not that it wasn't going to get hotter as they headed south...
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:51, Mon 21 Mar 2022.

Cat exited the front doors of the station backwards. Her pack was really too heavy to carry all he way by herself, so she had to drag it some of the way. She occasionally looked about hoping for some compassion, but not a single gentleman offered assistance. There was the one who looked like he might, but his wife put a full stop to it before he could even take a step. Once she was outside, she turned around to see if anyone was there to pick her up. Sitting on her pack she blew a strand of hair from her eyes and searched across for anyone she might recognize as waiting for her. If she was a bit smarter, she would have asked Mr.Weaver for a description. Eventually her eyes fell on the woman carrying the sign, Overland Adventures.

"It's about time!" Cat said out loud to herself after not seeing her in a dozen scans. Maybe it was her fatigue after an awful night of almost sleep. "Over here!" She called out to the woman, then set about dragging her pack in that direction, occasionally waving to get her attention.

"Hello." Cat finally reached the woman, huffing from her exertion. "I'm sorry. Hello, I'm Catharine... Catharine McLaughlin. Everyone calls me Cat. I am thrilled to finally be here." She let her pack drop, offering her hand in greeting.

Frankie looked around the concourse, blearily and still yawning. There had been clanging all night. His bunkmate, an older French guy, had snored like a bear too. Wasn't the worst sleep of his life. Definitely up there though.

It took him a moment or two to notice the sign. When he did, he hoisted his backpack up on his shoulders, and made a beeline toward the two ladies. He kept a decent pace but with a lopsided limp in his right leg. He didn't look exerted. Either it didn't pain him or he had learned to ignore it.

He flashed the pair a smile that lit up his face. Particularly the Sign Lady, who seemed to be in charge. They don't give those out to just anyone, presumably.

"Hi, ladies, how you doing? I'm here for the, uh, the tour thing. Name's Frankie. You might have me down as Francis, Francis Messina?" He sounded wary, like he half-expected the name to ring no bells whatsoever. "Call me Frankie though, I don't like the other one too much. I'm only Francis when I'm in shi- when I'm in crap, I mean, 's'cuse me."

The accent was definitely American. Frankie had a backpack and guitar slung on his back. He wore an oversized, raggedy, gray flannel overshirt that had a wide collar. It looked too heavy for summer. The sleeves were rolled up past his elbows and it was only half-buttoned up. He wore a white wifebeater underneath and highwaisted blue jeans. His shoes were threadbare. Everything about him looked sort of threadbare. He kept glancing around the vicinity, cheery, like the concourse was some marvelous place.

Sitting on her pack, Cat eyed the approaching newcomer. He looked a bit dodgy, dressed as he was in the summer heat. Still, he had a guitar and a backpack, and someone looking for a bit of ruckus wouldn't be so cheery. Nor was it proper to judge him on worn-out clothes and sleepy eyes. To be fair, he looked like she felt, and his singular focus on the sign meant he must be a fellow traveler.

Cat hopped up off her pack when he approached. He was taller than she was - everyone was taller than she was - but not so tall as to be intimidating. He had a bit of a limp, and who cut his hair? With all that, his scattered introduction and genuine smile felt endearing.

"Hello, Frankie," Cat thrust forward her hand. "I'm Catharine. Everyone calls me Cat. Pleasure to meet you. We'll be traveling together. You sound American. I'm from Scotland myself. We'll have a 'podge of people from all over, I'd wager."

"Cat! You too, yeah. Nice to meet ya." Frankie said, shaking her hand and leaning forward a bit.

The slanted posture, and enthusiastic speed of the handshake, suggested he'd never been to etiquette school. Really, he just seemed pleased to be shaking hands. This was all very exciting to him, clearly. At least she wasn't subjected to the improper form for long.

"Yeah, you think? I hope so. I mean, it'd suck to come all this way just to wind up palling around with a buncha guys from my old neighborhood." Frankie narrowed his eyes, thinking, then shrugged. "I never been to Scotland, yet. Heard it's pretty. Like you guys got actual mountains, castles, that kinda stuff. Don't have nothing like that back home. Our mountains, the ones near me, they're more like hills..."

He trailed off and eyed the crowd, wondering if the sign grabbed anyone else's attention yet. He patted down his hair idly meanwhile. It was subconscious. No one told him there'd be some cute Scottish chick. If he knew that, he might've tried to scrounge up a proper comb this morning instead of his fingers. One of those 'live and learn' moments, Frankie guessed.

Cat was amused at Frankie's awkward style. It was odd. At once he was straight forward and cordial, but also a bit nervous. She hadn't met anyone like him before, but a journey like this was bound to attract interesting characters.

"There are proper mountains in America," she countered. "Or so I've heard. I suppose it's such a big place, you might not have seen them. After all, the best mountains in Scotland are a ways off. Some people in my old neighborhood have never been to them. Is this your first time away from your neighborhood?"

Frankie shrugged. He guessed there were proper mountains out west, near California. Jersey was all beaches and pine barrens. Scotland probably didn't have mountains and castles in every backyard, either.

"This is the furthest I been before, yeah. I'm from Newark. It's in Jersey, you know it? It's close to New York. Kinda."

He paused. Maybe he should've lied and said he was from the mecca, Manhattan. Right. Like he didn't stink of bridge and tunnel.

"And, well, I guess there was last winter. I hitched down to Florida 'cause brrr! I couldn't do another stinking winter up there with no heat," he laughed. "Other than that, though, nah, I haven't traveled a whole lot. It's supposed to be good for you, right? For your soul, or whatever. How 'bout you, you travel much?"

Cat followed his meandering answer, keeping her eyes wide with attention and nodding along as he spoke. She heard of New York. After all, who hadn't? But he musty have meant new Jersey, because Jersey was an island in the UK. She never heard of Newark, but now she knew it was in New Jersey and near New York. She would have to ask about Florida, but first it would be rude not to answer his question.

"When I lived with my family, we went to Denmark, France, and Ireland. But I was just there as he faffed on with his church duties. My travels consist of a train ride to London after I ran away, and now this trip. I'm very excited to see what it's like to the east. Beyond Europe I mean."

"Well you're the second friend I've made this trip, so I am off to a good start."

"Well, hopefully I will be the third," Nina replied. "I'm Nina Weaver."

She offered her hand to the pair of them.

"If you'll follow me, the van is parked outside. I'll open the doors so you can sling your bags in there, then we'll head to the hostel to meet the others. We've got the whole day here and are staying overnight before heading for Nuremberg tomorrow, so let us know if there is anywhere you're interested in seeing. Admittedly, it's mostly palaces, along with a weird atom sculpture and a urinating statue..."

She glanced at her brown-strapped watch.

"Do you want a cup of coffee or something? You might need it after your journey. On me."

If they agreed, she would walk towards the station refreshment room.

Cat brightened, turning to greet Nina.

"It's such a pleasure, Nina," shaking her hand. "Great to finally meet you. Three friends are all the better. Hopefully more on the way. Yes, please, and thank you. This bag is so heavy. I am just tired of lugging it about. And, yes, please, coffee. I just knew today would be wonderful."

Cat carried her pack about half way to the van before dragging it again. It was a bit of a heave - two actually - but Cat managed it, stepping back and rubbing her hands. Back on the curb, she blew a strand of hair from her eyes and waited for Frankie to toss his pack. She let Nina and Frankie go first, following behind to the refreshment room.

"So, tell me, is that the actual van we'll be taking on the journey?"
This message was last edited by the player at 18:31, Sun 27 Mar 2022.

Frankie smiled, sort of abashedly. He felt Cat had that look on her face while he was talking. That one people got when he talked too much, or wasn't making much sense. He didn't have her pegged for a runaway. But what does a runaway look like, really? Maybe he didn't even look like one, either.

Before he could question her further, or ask if her old man was some kind of priest, Nina chimed in. Frankie shook her hand too. "Nice to meet ya, Nina." Hey, it kind of rhymed.

He followed along to the van, with his limping gait, and threw his bag in the back. He set down his guitar much more carefully.

"Sure, I could always go for some coffee," he said. The New Jersey accent really came out when he said 'coffee.' Co-ah-fee. "'Specially free coffee."

He gave Nina a wink and fell into step with her, letting her lead (because frankly he didn't know where to go.)

"Looks roomy enough, right?" he commented on the van.

Meanwhile, at the Hostel Belgique, Desmond Weaver was sitting in the common room as a couple of backpackers were playing pool in front of him. He was waiting for those who were due to arrive at this hostel today; including one Paul Winters. He was also going to buy some food for the next day's drive across West Germany.

As he tried to read a French newspaper, a young man struck the cue ball so hard that it bounced off the table and rolled out of the room.

OOC: I did that in RL once...

In reply to Frankie Messina (msg # 11):

"Yes, although we're not planning to sleep in it unless we have to. It will be hostels and other such cheap places as we head east. We've got two vans, both Kombis. I'll be driving one, my husband the other."

As they walked in, Nina bought a copy of the British newspaper, the Daily Mirror, some copies of which had come in overnight on the train.

They reached the station buffet and Nina ordered coffees for three of them.

"As you may guess from my funny accent, I'm not English. Not originally. I'm from Hungary, which is the other side of the Iron Curtain. Ended up a rather young refugee following the Russian invasion in '56. Spent a while working in Germany, where I met Des. That's my husband."

She put the paper down. The front page was about the bankruptcy of a British architect who had been lavishing gifts on British officials, including the former Home Secretary.

"Two vans? Hm. How many people are going? Will it be the girls in one and the boys in the other? Aye, and I definitely prefer a proper bed to a car seat."

Cat eagerly accepted the cup as Nina handed it to her. Lifting the lid, she blew on it to cool it down a bit. As she listened to Nina, she alternately took tiny sips and clew away some of the stem.

"Mm, so you've already been all over Europe. I've done a bit of traveling with my family. How far do you reckon we'll get in one day?"
This message was last edited by the player at 20:20, Sat 02 Apr 2022.

In reply to Cat McLaughlin (msg # 14):

"We've got a varying number - not everyone will be doing the whole trip. We're going to swap people around as we go to mix things up... and separate people who need to some time away from each other. Likely up to eight."

Nina briefly glanced out at the window as a train pulled in.

"As for how far we'll get? The van tops out at 70 miles per hour, but we'll likely be going less than that. Maybe 50 miles an hour on average..."

She did some counting on her fingers.

"Maybe 400 miles a day. That's roughly how far Nuremberg is from here. But that's in Europe, where you've got motorways. Western Europe. The quality of a lot of things will go down sharply once we drive through the tunnel that links Austria to Yugoslavia."

"Amazing. So the tunnel is like a gateway to another world. Lovely. Now that I think of it, I should have brought along a camera."

At the Hostel Belgique, Jimmy Colson walked into the common room, smiling when he spotted Des.

"Morning! Sorry, I was up early and it was nice out, so thought I'd head out and take in the sights while the city was quiet. Been to the Grand Place and then saw the Manneken Pis, happy little chap that he is, pissing away to his heart's content! Walked up to Mont des Arts...quite a view from there. I think I quite like Brussels, I must say...though I stopped for a couple of waffles from a vendor - one strawberry, one apricot, and now I don't think I need to eat anything sweet for about a week!"

He took a seat near Des and crossed his legs.

"So, what plans today, Kapitan? Need a hand with anything?"
This message was last edited by the player at 22:22, Sun 03 Apr 2022.

Frankie sat with Nina and Cat. He took his coffee with sugar and just a little cream. He half-listened while the ladies talked shop. He looked distracted watching the other travelers and train out the window. He seemed thoughtful, or maybe a little sad.

"Maybe you could buy one of them cheap little plastic ones," Frankie piped up, face brightening a bit. He added mischievously, "or if some rich tourist asks us to take a photo of them and their family, I bet you we could make off with it. I'm fast when I gotta be."

Cat's eyes flashed, drawing a big open mouthed gasp when Frankie suggested stealing a camera. "Frankie!" she play slapped his arm. "There will be none of that. I don't need a camera that badly. But a cheap plastic camera sounds like it would work. I wonder if they have those here. I'm sure I can stuff just one more little thing into my pack"

Frankie laughed. "Hey-oh, miss, easy with the violence! Hot coffee here," he chided Cat, jokingly, when she swatted him. Again, the New Jersey accent really bled through when he said 'cawfee.' And 'here' (the 'R' was so relaxed, it was barely there.)

He recalled her bag and wondered if she really and could truly fit one more thing in it. Looked like she should've stopped fitting 'one more thing' in it a couple things ago. The first time he ran away, he hadn't really packed light either. The more time you spend on the streets, the less things you lug around though.

"Oh, sure ya can. Cram it in between everything and the kitchen sink." He smiled because he was only teasing. His eyes slid over Nina. As their defacto guide, maybe she didn't like the thievery talk. "You know where she could get one of 'em? I ain't sure how to ask around the shops, I don't speak a lot of... Uh, Belgium." 

"I'm sure there's a little shop in the station." Cat tossed her head about, looking for shops. She wanted to laugh at his Belgium comment, but stopped herself. She had a suspicion that he wasn't joking. "I can ask myself. Je parle un peu français." Cat affected a reasonably good French accent with only a slight Scottish lilt.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:36, Thu 07 Apr 2022.

In reply to James (Jimmy) Colson (msg # 17):

Desmond was finishing off a glass of orange juice.

"Between waiting for new joiners, we need to do some shopping. Some bread, water, beer, stuff like that. We've got a long drive ahead of us and motorway service stations can be a rip off in any country. Especially when they charge for you to use the loo. So someone to help me carry some stuff might be useful. Also, how are you with a car jack?"

Anais Gautier, sitting reading a left-wing journal (printed on poor quality paper on someone's home printing machine) someone had left lying around, looked up.

"Is something wrong with the van?" she asked.

"Bit worried about one of the tyres. Might be going a bit bald and the last thing we need is for any gendarmes to ding us for that."

In reply to Frankie Messina (msg # 20):

"Not going to get anything here... but in any event, you want something proper, not one of those cheap disposable ones. One of the Kodak Instamatics would be right up your street. There's a photography place a couple of streets away. We'll go over there once we've finished our coffee."

Once they had finished, Nina led them across the street, stopping in time to avoid an idiot breaking the speed limit and driving through a red light. They walked down an avenue as trams, a sight gone from London and pretty much all of Britain, ran down the centre. Soon they found themselves at the entrance to a small shop called "Photo World", with a hand-painted sign and a wooden door that rang a bell when they stepped inside.

It was like going into Aladdin's Cave. Or rather the camera section of it. Cameras and associated equipment filled shelves, were propped up against the wall and even turned up on the floor in places. You had to be careful to avoid tripping. A beaming old man with a moustache came out, his hands wide open.

"Greetings, Nina!" he exclaimed. "How can I help you today and please introduce me to your latest friends!"

"This is Basil," Nina said. "Anything he doesn't know about cameras is not worth knowing."

Not waiting for the introduction, Cat squeezed forward, with usual bright smile. "Hello Basil, I'm Cat. I want a small camera that I can take on our upcoming journey. I don't have a lot of money, but I would like something that will take pictures worth the effort."

Frankie finished his coffee and followed along to the shop. Even the parts of the streets that were fairly mundane, he studied like they were strange and exciting. The a-hole speeding through the red light wasn't really a new sight either. He reflexively shouted "WATCH-IT-JERK-OFF!" at the back end of the car. It wouldn't slow the guy down. But it made him feel a bit better.

He entered the store and was careful to not trip over anything. "How ya doing, man. Frankie," he introduced himself. He flashed an easy smile but otherwise let Cat chat up the shopkeep.

Frankie doubted he could afford a camera. He didn't know a whole lot about them, anyway. He was content enough to just hang out and check out the shelves.

In reply to Cat McLaughlin (msg # 24):

"Well, my dear," Basil replied. "You want something small?"

He walked over to one of the shelves and pulled out a silver camera that would fit into someone's pocket.

"Kodak Instamatic 100. Got a flash and a viewfinder, so you can see what you're taking. 1/90 of a second exposure time, so no need to worry about blurring. Uses a dedicated cartridge, so you don't need to worry about unravelling all the film, just pop it and take it out. Can get those pretty much in any city."

He grabbed another camera that looked like it wouldn't be out of place in the hands of James Bond.

"Halina 202. Made in Hong Kong. Also cartridge based. I can do the Kodak for 500 or the Halina for 400."

In reply to GM (msg # 26):

Cat was fascinated by the cameras, having never owned one. She held each, turning them over in her hands and then putting them up to her eye. She didn't know which was better, or if it even mattered. She was about to ask when Basil told her the price.

"Did you say 500?" Cat blanched. She bit her lip as she processed that. "Oh way. Yes. I forgot where I was for a moment. That's in Francs. Okay, soo...." She looked up as she calculated in her head. "So, that would be about £25. Hm. It does seem a bit expensive, though it would be a shame not to get pictures." She shrugged. "I'll take the Kodak. And 5 film cartridges. Please and thank you very much. I hope you can take traveler's cheques."

"I do in fact. Tell you what, because you're such a pretty lady, you can have the film and batteries gratis."

Basil took a fresh box with a Kodak camera in over to the till, along with a pack of batteries and five film cartridges, placing these into a plastic carrier bag from somewhere called Aldi.

Grabbing a biro and a carbon pad, he started to fill out a receipt for Cat, making a point of writing it in French and English.

"Do you want a camera too, Frankie?" Nina asked. "Trust me, there is a load to take photos
of."

OOC: The plastic carrier bag was invented in 1959, basically aiming to save the environment by reducing deforestation for paper bags... So yeah...

Aldi did enter the UK until 1990, so the Brits might not have heard of it. Des and Nina having lived there previously would have.
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:47, Sun 17 Apr 2022.

Cat hopped with excitement when Basil offered the film and batteries for free. No one had ever done that for her before, but then again her last neighborhood wasn't exactly a well of generosity. "Thank you so much. I truly appreciate that. It might be the best gift I've received in years."

After sorting through her traveler's cheques, handed over the closest approximation to the total and accepted back a small amount in change. As Basil put all her new goodies in a plastic bag, she again bounced with another jolt of excitement. Placing her hand through the handle she took it from the counter and practically hugged it against her body. "Thank you again Basil."

When basil handed her the receipt, Cat looked it over briefly and slipped it in with the camera. She heard Nina ask Frankie if he wanted a camera, prompting her to step aside, not wanting to get in the way of any transaction. Clutching the handle of her bag with both hands, she let the bag hang in front of her as she waited happily.

This message was deleted by the player at 17:08, Sun 17 Apr 2022.

In reply to Desmond Weaver (msg # 12):

Nobody seemed to be paying any attention so he rang the bell on the side loudly to see if he could get some response. To his surprise it did not make much noise but bounced off the desk onto the floor.  A man reading a paper laughed, "Looking for someone?" he said.

"I was told to meet a group of travellers who are going across Europe and beyond in a van" said Paul

 "Are you Paul Winter by any chance" he asked

"I am indeed" said Paul relieved that at last somebody knew who he was."Do you know where the rest of the group is?"

Frankie browsed the shelves while Cat made her purchase. He glanced over at Nina when she called him and blinked a few times. He'd been distracted by all the equipment.

"Me? Hmm, I dunno... Maybe." He straightened the cuffs of his baggy sleeves. "I'm kinda worried I'd break it."

Kind of a weak excuse, but it felt better than announcing his not so great financial situation. He was not remotely a pretty lady, so he was sure the gratis deal didn't extend to him.

"I ain't trying to be a cheapskate, but do the cameras have a similar deal on for kinda ugly guys?" he asked Basil and flashed a goofy smile. The self-deprecation was mostly joking. "Otherwise, I dunno, I might have to talk to my people, move some liquid cash around, y'know."

Again, more dumb jokes. Like he was some big investment guy. Sometimes if he made people laugh they'd cut him a deal though. Kind of how he scraped through life so far.

In reply to Paul Winters (msg # 31):

Desmond nodded.

"Some of them are out now doing some shopping and picking up people from the station; you probably just missed. We are about to head out ourselves. I'm Desmond Weaver. Please call me Des."

At that point, a middle aged woman entered the common room, a cigarette in her mouth and with a perm that wouldn't look out of place in any bingo hall in England.

"Guess you're another one of the hippies!" she declared in a Central European accent. "Well, you'll need to fill out the register and I need to see your passport. For the police, you understand."

This was not something that Paul had encountered in Britain before, but the mainland Europeans had things like identity cards that the British had got rid of after the war.

She handed him a fountain pen that looked like it was leaking and the hostel register, open to a blank page.

****

Basil laughed.

"You're not ugly. I can do the same deal for you. Equality of the sexes is in now, right?"

Paul took the pen carefully and began to fill in the details "I suppose we can expect a lot of this paperwork on our travels" he said to Des.

Paul looked round the room which had seen better days, there were a few sofas but he could see springs poking out of one of them so he went to a wooden bench. It looked the safer option he thought

"Yeah, equality!" Frankie all but cheered. "Thanks, man. Sir, I mean. I'll get one of them little ones, too, then."

Frankie would make his purchase. Other than that, he didn't have any more business to conduct in the shop. He hadn't meant to conduct any in the first place but when in Brussels or however the saying goes.

In reply to Paul Winters (msg # 34):

"Depends on where we are, but bureaucracy and multi-country travel are synonymous with each other," Desmond replied. "Especially when it comes to visas. Fortunately, we won't need one of those, as British people, until Iran."

"Do you want a cup of coffee or something?" the manageress replied, in a voice which clearly had no indoor setting. "Got some cheap from the market."

Hearing the offer of cheap coffee Paul realises he has not had anything to eat or drink since breakfast so he accepts and says to Desmond "I am going to have a coffee can I get one for you too?"

"Carrying stuff sounds within my realm of talents, and car jacks are no problem - been working on vehicles of one sort or another since I was a kid on the farm...then in the T.A."

Just then another likely candidate entered the hostel, and Desmond seemed to recognise him as one Paul Winters. While those two asked for coffee James introduced himself.

"Hello Paul! I'm James, or Jimmy. Where did you get here from?"

Cat unboxed her camera and loaded up a film cartridge. As Frankie went through the process of purchasing his camera, she took pictures, occasionally asking everyone to look over and smile.

In reply to Cat McLaughlin (msg # 39):

"Don't use them all at once," Nina reminded her. "There's only 36 exposures in each of those and once they're gone, they're gone. If you're not careful, you end up with photos of orange juice at funny angles."

Basil rang up Frankie and also appeared in a couple of Cat's photos.

"Send me a postcard!" he called out as they left.

In reply to James (Jimmy) Colson (msg # 38):

Desmond waited for Paul to answer the question as the manager went off to get the coffee.

In reply to James (Jimmy) Colson (msg # 38):

"Pleased to meet you Jimmy" "I came from London by train and Ferry then train again.  I was heading for the hostel but leaving the train I saw what looked like the van we might be using and heard English voices and here I am"

In reply to Paul Winters (msg # 42):

OOC: That van was Nina's one, but I'll assume she directed you to the hostel.

"Then I assume you've met my wife Nina" Desmond replied. "Lovely lady, good in a crisis. Which we might of course have. But hopefully it won't be a major crisis."

The manageress came back with the coffee. It was very strong - if you weren't wide awake already, you already would be.

"I got a telegram for you, Desmond," she said, handing him an envelope. He opened it and read the contents.

"Looks like a mate of mine got into a car crash in Dubrovnik and broke his arm. We'll need to pick him up when we get there."