Last Friday (the 12th) my dad and I travelled all the way up north. Our mission: to travel some more. We'd won some tickets to go with a steamtrain, but first we'd go with a steamboat (it's all about that steam, 'bout that steam). How exciting! 


After a car journey of about an hour, we had a sea journey ahead of us of about an hour and twenty minutes (I told you we were there to travel some more). And to be honest, after 10 minutes or so I was already done with it. Apparently I don't have steady sea legs (or interest). At some point a sea becomes a sea and a boat becomes a boat. However when we made our way up to the deck and the wind swept my hair away, I felt a thrill of excitement (anxiety) going through my body. That or the tea I drunk earlier had reached its way to my bowel... Anyway, we slowly but steady made our way to the other side of the pond.


When my feet finally touched ground again I was happy-preppy! Who'd thought solid ground can be so good! Also the change of scene did me some good. But my hair! My poor poor hair had been swept into a new coup. A coup that made my fellow travelers jealous...




And then it was time to wait. We had to wait an hour (!) in Medemblik. (Medemblik being your average tourist township where nothing ever happens). Waiting is quite a running theme -as, quite oppositional, steam- this trip. Which inspired me to write the following about waiting:

I believe there are many different ways to wait. Not only literally: waiting for the bus, waiting for the train, waiting for someone, somewhere. 'To wait' is doing without doing. A passive time between active periods. Between something and something else. Between the bus and the train and someone somewhere.

The difference I imagine there to be, again: not only within the actual difference of what you're waiting for, is the wait that's not necessarily defined between something and something else. Through an anticipated contrast activated by movement. That's to say: the previously mentioned waiting brings you -quite physically- into another space. It's a slight moment of silence that moves your physical (and arguably mental) being from one thing to the next.

There's this French philosopher (previously mentioned here), Gilles Deleuze, who's got very interesting ideas (and literally new ways of thinking) that's all confined within the concept of moving. Moving between, up and under. Moving equally. However there also must be, I think, a case made for the 'standing still'. To wait is often a moment of standing still. A moment of sitting at a busstop and staring into the sky. However to wait, just to wait, to try to take it all in -without any particular reason (moving from a to b)- is a different kind of wait I'm very interested in. It brings you nowhere else. It's a wait that's not in contrast to the moment experienced before, but an extension of it. Or better: an in-between. An active (as well as passive) time between the something and the same. It's not waiting at the busstop, but it's just the act of waiting and taking in -being aware- of that moment. A pause button that doesn't divide but is 'experienced' within a moment.


After 'the wait' we finally went with what we came for: the bloody steamtrain! Or actually steamtram, not because the vehicle isn't a train but -we asked- it travels on rails that's within the same area and not between big areas, so therefore it's a tram and not a train... FACT! (or at least, it's a fact in the Netherlands. It's even enshrined in the law apparently (or at least that's what the man on the train told us...)). Now you can share this new found knowledge with everyone who's standing near you (I'm sure they'll appreciate it).



So the train went choo choo (or actually: it made a hell of a noise! How they could hold up conversation back then is questionable. That and how they could sit on those benches for so long! I mean, today's seats aren't tip top, but compared to these shaky woody hard butt hurters they are luscious luxurious butt holders!). As said, after some time a sea becomes a sea and a tram becomes a tram. She said, after 10 minutes (while the ride of joy would prolong for another -you've guessed it- hour or so). Oh well...


And after a train ride comes... another train ride! But this time a modern one. To be followed with plane, motor, bike... jk. It was followed with a car. But indeed, we've covered our travel-vehicles in this one-day, long-day, day-out. What I've learned on this one-day, long-day, day-out? Good question! Well, I'm not really made or entertained purely by travel or travel-vehicle. This steamtram is in fact a museum (!), but, as I think has been made clear by the excellerating information I've been providing you with, the term 'museum' isn't protected and therefore can be used by anyone who pleases. So: informational = nada, entertaining = meh, company = sublime. When tackling steam, I'll advice a double dose of sarcastic partner in crime who enjoys 'making fun of' and seeking out irony. You'll need it...

So, what's your record of vehicles taken/ridden/waited for in one day? Let me know in the comments below!

Love,
Dominique