[After we graduated, I spent a month travelling round Europe with three friends and a lad who had somehow attached himself to us. It was a classic "if it's Tuesday it must be Berlin" tour recorded in my diary/scrapbook in a wealth of critique...]
Brussels, 18/7/92 Went off to see the Manneken Pis – a bit silly, really, and it’s very hard to buy a postcard in Brussels that doesn’t feature him and his jet of wter. There are even lifesize chocolate models of him in the confiseries.
Amsterdam, 19/7/92 a humongously long train, only two carriages of which were going to Berlin. Lots of panicky getting on and off, carriages full, should have reserved a seat, panic panic, fuss fuss. Decided to go to Hamburg instead.
Berlin, 20/7/92 38 degrees… sat in a fountain in Alexanderplatz
Prague, 23/7/92 800 krowns and about an hour later we were installed in a foul-smelling, orange-watered hostel, feeling, as usual, hot, tired, grumpy and hungry. We soon cheered up when we walked down the road to the pub and got a nice filling meal, four bottles of wine, and pancakes with fruit and ice-cream for about £12 for the five of us…
Transport tickets cost 8 pence…
AMAZING!.. breathtaking… magnificent… fairytale castle… a puppet-monkey dancing the lambada…
Vienna, 25/7/92 Ali, snap-happy as usual, has been dragging us about to get a picture of this, that and the other “gorgeous” building, green rooves, sunsets, more buildings etc. Catchphrase of the week has been her “I can feel a photo coming on.”
Venice, 28/7/92 Took our pizzas and a large bottle of cheap 9paintstripper) red wine to the edge of the Grand Canal, and picnicked in the moonlight. Teams of gondolas were gliding past with an accordion playing or a tenor in full voice. ali really thought “O Sole Mio” was about ice-cream.
Corfu, 31/7/92 On enquiring what time the last bus came back, were told that there were no more buses back to Corfu Town until 9 the following morning… A lad who worked on the beach offered to take [all five of] us in his car for 3,000 drachma. His car was a battered black box about the size and shape of an old Ford Fiesta… fortunately it couldn’t get enough speed to pelt round the sheer-sided hairpin bends…
There doesn’t seem to be much to do on the island, as I certainly don’t have the energy to trail up the mountain to look at the monastery (however Zorba it is)… I’ll just have to shut up and sunbathe…
I get more and more mosquito bites every day… everyone feels ill to various degrees…
5am Tuesday… Ioannis the mad hotel manager drove us at break-neck speed to corfu Town. Had to wait a couple of hours to get on the ferry… Arrived in Brindisi at 4.30pm… reserved sleepers on a train to Rome to leave at 22.30… Finally crawled into our couchettes – untold luxury! Throw-away sheets!
Rome, 6/8/92 Took the obligatory photos, then went into the Piazza di Spagna’s MacDonalds…
Finally we were walking towards the Colosseum. This is what I expected from Rome: ancient ruins, columns, pillars, carvings, Roman lettering on the walls, Cassius! Brutus! Wow!
Florence, 8/8/92 We walked down to the Uffizi Gallery, but it cost 10,000 lire, with no discount – way over our budget. Everything in Florence seems to cost; same price for the National Museum. We wandered through the ground floor of the Palazzo Vecchio, as that was free. These buildings are strange-looking, like sandcastles! The cathedral was magnificent, but liberally decorated with scaffolding.
Pisa, 9/8/92 We were followed along the road from the station by a creepy looking guy, who didn’t go away for ages, until we all stopped and turned round and stared at him.
Nice, 10/8/92 From Genova we went to Milano (all the journeys merge into one after a while – I can’t remember a thing about it!) We arrived in Milano after dark, admired the station with its gushing fountains and statues…
Made the Nice train with 30 seconds to spare, and couldn’t get a compartment together. A & A were stuck with a load of men, including a Moroccan molester who wouldn’t take no for an answer. K & I had to share with two dishy Australians and the Passenger from Hell. We’re all suffocating so she closes the window. We pull down the seats and she takes a third of the compartment herself, leaving four of us for the other two thirds; we wake up in the morning, actually feeling cold, and she opens the bloody window!!
Sauntered up the Promenade des Anglais, as one is supposed to do when in Nice. It was bloody hot – sweat was pouring down our backs. We’ve all smelled bloody disgusting for at least a week – you’d think it would keep the creeps away, but it doesn’t! Got to the hostel 15 minutes before we were allowed back in – sat outside looking glum, all with one thought, unspoken: I WANT TO GO HOME. Then I suggested we get a train to Paris and home, and everyone’s faces lit up – “do you mean it?” YES!