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."