‘Go on a road trip, they said. It’ll be fine, they said.’

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Words out of James’s mouth. It’s 18:23 on day two and he revealed to me that he thought a road trip would be easy. It’s day two! I personally find this hilarious, and he calls me naive sometimes. In my opinion easy isn’t fun anyway. The enterprise man said ‘there are such things as all inclusive,’ we just laughed, I don’t know what to say to people when they almost want an answer to why you want to do things. I would like an answer to why he wouldn’t do a road trip, thank you. I always feel like there’s permission in the world for ‘normal’ people to ask ‘weird’ people why they are ‘weird’, but it’s offensive in my books. I don’t think I get thrills the same way as people who ask me that, which I’m okay with obviously but they’re not. I actually theorised today that maybe part of my anxiety is to do with not doing enough and becoming stagnant, so living on the road like this is perfect for it. I haven’t had a panic attack yet.

So James has reached that level of madness when you swear and shout but you’re also laughing at the same time. Like a moan but half of your mouth is cracked into a smile, know what I mean? He’s definitely smiling when one of his farts reaches my nostrils though. I’m currently listening to him have a rant about traffic, finished with him singing along with Rick Astley on the radio. I’m trying to be a good passenger but I just keep roaring with laughter.

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I’ve given up looking for somewhere to sleep for tonight. Not completely but we can’t get our internet to work well. We drove to Brussels after Bruges which was a stupid idea because Bruges is beautiful, and Brussels? Well, it’s not Bruges. As James said ‘we didn’t come all this way to go to Lewisham.’ It’s probably okay but we just weren’t feeling it, and that’s the beauty of not booking anything – you can just move on.

He just pretended to throw this book out the window (my notebook). Not cool. We are driving to Liege instead – and actually driving now, no more traffic. We have never heard of the place till I went on Google maps and the few images that would load looked nice enough for us to drive straight through Brussels.

I’m so glad I decided we should go to Bruges. I’ve been twice before on day trips and it’s just so beautiful but James didn’t understand why I’d want to go back. I think from the get go it surprised James, from the moment we reached the cobbled streets and you feel like you shouldn’t be driving on them, let alone a bus. It was a very calm, very happy day. It was nice spending time like that, since we’ve started the road trip there’s always something to think about and we kept on moving, and to suddenly just stop thinking about survival, so to speak, and just look at our surroundings was refreshing. But because we were so happy and nothing went wrong, there just isn’t much to write. We walked for hours, visited little shops and bought a bottle of green alcohol for us and a lolly pop for my little brother, had a beer or two, got a little bit sun burnt on my face and walked some more.

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Something very important to write about is that I’ve decided swans should be called Hump-noses instead.

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I finish this post the next morning at 9am. We almost didn’t have a bed last night. I also found out I’m hysterical. Us not being able to find a place to sleep didn’t bother me in the slightest, I was prepared to park up somewhere and get so drunk in the car that we pass out in it. James and I aren’t so similar turns out, not when it comes to sleeping at least, and me laughing at the situation didn’t hinder it, but it didn’t help now did it, Emily? I remember a similar situation when my best friend and I got stuck in Lisbon when we were 17, and while she was panicking how to get home a calmness came over me and I couldn’t stop laughing.

We got to Liege about 7:30 maybe, parked in an underground car park and headed out to steal someones wifi – no matter what the 3g on our phone wouldn’t work. Beautiful looking town by the way, the sun was setting around us in the town centre as we were walking shop to shop hoping for an open network. A perfume shop did the job in the end, so we sat on the warm wall – why was it warm? it was somehow heated – and searched the net for any hotel for the night. At 8:15 it was booked. We paid more than we wanted to but it was getting to that point where if we wanted a bed to sleep in we just had to pay it. I was still fine with sleeping in the car, just throwing it out there.

So, walked back to the car and it was all shut up. We couldn’t get in through the shopping centre. Even now I’m laughing as I type this. I really am hysterical. A few more swears got thrown around but we managed to find another entrance to the car park, popped in the new address to park on the sat-nav and drove a few minutes away. We then walked with all our luggage for 5 minutes to a pub which own the apartments above, one of which I am sitting in right now. Funny thing though, as we were outside the front door and looking about to see where we are situated… we are about 50 metres from the perfume shop where we booked it. AND to top it all off, we are on the third floor, but the stairs are spindly and windy and I had to drag our big, yellow suitcase up it.

And, somehow, I find all of this hilarious.

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