You woke up to the usual sights and sounds of your room. Wrapped in your sleeping bad, underneath your duvet, huddled next to Maria. You poked your head out from underneath the covers and watched your breath stream up into the air above you.
In preparation for your departure, you did a quick load of laundry the night before. Your wet clothes hanging randomly around your cold room. Well, if it’s not raining we can at least hang them on the line. They’ll be cold but they’ll dry, you said to yourself.
You grabbed your jacket, put on your boots and hat and had not even taken a full step outside when you stopped dead in your tracks.
La neige. Snow. The bane of your existence fluttering softly to the ground all around you. Snow is no longer beautiful to you. It reminds you of falling ash from an apocalypse. It reminds you of The Road. You sighed again and stepped back inside.
Last week was too good to be true. The temperature had reached at least 18 degrees C. Your flip flops came out, your sunglasses even. You went running. You went on daily walks. Life was getting better. What happened?
You really did not want publish another entry about how much you hate winter but there is nothing else to do. You have been practically sedentary since September and you’re just trying not to completely lose it. You’ve had one week of respite from freezing (and below) temperatures and unpleasant shit falling from the sky and it is not enough.
Way too much of your time has been spent huddled around a fireplace. Sure, you’ve read like 20 books, but most of your “traveling” has been a test of mental toughness (which you clearly have little of) and a test of just how physically uncomfortable you can be without crying (answer: not very).
You always seem to be waiting for something better….waiting for it to just get warm. Good god, you just want to be outside and enjoy it. You love being out doors, you love camping. You can’t wait to walk 20 kilometers and pitch a tent for the night, wake up to a sunrise over the mountains. Yes, a thousand times yes!
All you want to do is live outside. And experience a normal level of discomfort. In 4 months the worst thing that’s happened to you was getting step throat and your headphones breaking. But it seems like an emotional roller coaster.
All you want at this point is to be on the other side. You want this part of the trip to be a memory that you look back on and laugh at.
You are leaving tomorrow no matter what. You can’t postpone your hike any longer. Starting tomorrow you’ll be living outside for the better part of 40 days. You can’t let the weather dictate your experiences any more and you are actually quite terrified.
You just keep telling yourself you are hiking to Spring and you are traveling to summer. The only reason you are publishing this at all is so that you can re-read it when you consider complaining about how hot it is. If that is even possible.
You just had a meltdown in Starbucks in the city center of Gent. Granted, you captured maybe 2 hours of sleep last night and have been having quite a day mentally battling with yourself. Still, there is no excuse for that shit. And yet, here you are.
It began with a walk to a poor hitch-hiking spot on your way to Bruges. You tried for a few minutes with no success. Then, your second spot landed you two lifts, but unfortunately none of the drivers were actually going to Bruges (did they even read your sign?). You decided to embark on a last effort to the east side of the city and try to get a lift out there. However, it was a very, very long walk.
You would also like to mention that it was a brisk -5 C (23 degrees Fahrenheit) out that morning (the weather report actually said something like “freezing fog” but you don’t think you saw any of that, whew!). It was in this, that you trudged along, listening to the rhythm of your boots crunching over the snow and ice packed on the sidewalk.
You were uncomfortable. You were tired. That kind of super-fatigued tired that just radiates out of your core and makes your muscles feel like molasses. Your hands were numb, bunched into fists inside your gloves, which were shoved inside the pockets of your North Face jacket. Your face stung and so did your nasal passages when you took a breath. It was like this the entire walk to god-knows-where. You weren’t sure. You followed Maria loyally as she asked for directions and briefly consulted you on which way you ought to turn.
You were kind of indifferent. You began to entertain thoughts like “Bruges probably isn’t that cool.” and “If we don’t get a lift before 2pm we should call this off.” You checked your watch. 12:17. Damn. Almost two more hours of this.
Finally, she turned to you and sounded serious.
“My heart is breaking for you right now.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I didn’t know it was going to be this far to the road. I know you’re tired and I feel like I’m taking you on a death march. I just want to know how you’re feeling.”
And with that, you promptly burst into tears.
You didn’t want to go. If it meant spending more time out in this cold, you wanted nothing to do with it, and promptly sought refuge inside an outdoors store and ate a cookie you had packed. Ah, much better.
But it didn’t end there. Once you decided to forego hitch-hiking to Bruges, you came up with a contingency plan to get more frites (which were god-damn-delicious) at the place you went yesterday, provided they were not closed. You put on your head phones and began the long (but noticeably more cheerful) walk back to the city center.
You had your frites outside on a bench. Not ideal, but they were so good that you forgot about how utterly cold you were. Then you made a point to find the coffee shop that had alluded you the day before. Found it. Bam. Ordered a 3 euro latte and ate another cookie.
This is where Maria broke the news that you would probably have to camp on your way to Normandy after Antwerp. Oh man, not exactly what you wanted to hear. The idea of pitching your tent on a pile of snow did not make you feel warm and fuzzy inside. However, you agreed that this was the optimal scenario. You can handle it. This is what travelling is all about, being butch and doing crazy things like camping in the snow and what not.
And you know what? This day was looking up, for sure. Hey, you were indoors, which any local will tell you is the best place to be. Unfortunately, this would be the high-point of your day.
It was not sufficiently warm in this place, although your latte was delicious. So you decided to relocate to a Starbucks and snag a seat upstairs and wait out there until 6 pm when you were to meet up with one of Maria’s friends. This is where it all went downhill.
You arrived upstairs to find it completely packed with students and you were overwhelmed with anxiety. Maria grabbed two empty discarded ceramic mugs off the table (which you are certain everyone saw) and plop them down awkwardly on the end of a long table and went to search for chairs. You did not like this. Not one bit. You felt awkward, and like everyone was judging you for totally barging in, stealing used cups to avoid paying for a drink, and try to find space. In other words, you were acting completely irrational.
So you cried again.
Sitting at the edge of the table, Maria tries her best to figure out whats going on. The truth is, you don’t really know. You just hate life. You have been cold for the entire day and you’re exhausted (probably also hormonal) and you just were not expecting to walk into a goddamn packed room full of people looking at you funny and talking about you in Dutch (probably….right?)
What the hell is wrong with you? Why is it that you break down in the most benign situations? You should be ashamed of yourself (check). But after you had some time to distill all of these ridiculous feelings of yours, you have determined that you learned some pretty valuable things in the last 4 days of your life.
1. The daily temperature has a new meaning when you spend multiple hours outside in it.
You posted something on your facebook about you and Maria getting bundled up because it was 23 degrees outside. A friend of yours commented that that was nothing! They lived in New York where it was like this for months and all they needed was a pea coat and a scarf, no gloves. Well you know what? Fuck you. I bet that works when you’re just walking from for front door to your car. Or two blocks from the metro station to the bar. You want to tell them to try spending 5 consecutive hours outside and then talk to you about how warm they are in their two layers of cotton and jeans.
2. Being warm costs money.
You realized quickly that being outside in such cold for long periods of time is not fun and the prospect of being warm utterly consumes you. This is when you start fantasizing about holding a hot coffee and sitting at a table next to a heater, or even better a real fire. It becomes all you can think about. The problem is, there is rarely any free indoor space. In the summertime, when you get tired, or want to eat your packed lunch, you can just make your way to the nearest park and throw your backpack under a tree and spend all the time you want there. You can be outside all day and have a grand time. This is not true in winter. It is simply too uncomfortable to enjoy anything after you have been outside in 20 degrees for 4 hours. Everything is wet and or frozen. There is no rest but in coffee shops and in order to utilize this space, you must buy something.
3. You don’t fit anywhere with a backpack.
Coffee shops are small. Your backpack is not. There is nothing more awkward than having to lift a camping backpack over someone’s head as you squeeze into a corner table and try to order the cheapest thing on the menu and stay there for 3 hours. And even if you really didn’t have the money for a coffee and just wanted to go into a shop, let’s say, to look at the 400 beers brewed in Belgium, you can’t because you have a giant pack strapped to you. You are then, limited to larger shops, and of course, it is less acceptable to spend loads of time there.
4. Your couch surfing hosts can’t meet you until after *insert time*PM.
This is the main reason you have learned the first 3 lessons. It would be great if someone met you as soon as you arrived in the city. You could put your bag down, have a cup of tea and then walk around light as a feather for an hour or two at a time. Also in a perfect world, you could come and go as you pleased, always knowing you had access to a warm space to thaw out. But that has not been the case since you arrived. In fact, the only scenario you know is the following: You cannot meet you host before 6pm, so you must hang out in the city with your pack until then. Once you leave your hosts house in the morning, you are not allowed to return until after 6pm. See lessons 1-3 and repeat as necessary.
In conclusion, travelling in the winter is hard, and you just wanted to let everyone know.