This post has nothing to do with birding. That said, it concerns an event that has reshaped the fiber of my being. What follows is an account of my descent into madness.
Recently, I traveled from Austria to the Netherlands for a wedding (not mine). The Octopus and I elected to take the night train from Vienna to Amsterdam. It would take 14 hours, but we could sleep on the way and arrive in the morning ready to eat cake and do whatever else it is people do at weddings. As a delicate traveler prone to bouts of vomiting at the slightest hint of turbulence, I was happy to travel by ground instead of by plane.
20:00 – Things start well. I have a full playlist of podcasts, a backpack full of snacks, and the Octopus brought his pig-shaped travel pillow for comfort and companionship. Our compartment has 6 seats and overhead room to store our luggage.
20:01 – When I booked the tickets in January, I was unaware of two things: one, Germany was hosting the 2024 Euro Cup during our trip; and two, the Nightjet made for the perfect route for Slovakian fans to reach Germany to watch their team play. My mistake becomes clear as soon as four football fans squeeze themselves into the remaining seats in our compartment.
20:05 – The football fans open a bottle of schnapps. Out of politeness, they offer the Octopus a shot. They also pretend to offer the pig-shaped travel pillow a shot. They do not, however, offer me a shot.
20:07 – The conductor makes an announcement that quiet hours are from 10:00 p.m. to 6:00 a.m. Surely the football fans will adhere to these rules.
20:30 – One of their friends has not managed to book a ticket in our compartment, although that does not stop him from trying to squeeze his way into a compartment which clearly does not have room for him.
21:42 – The Octopus leaves to use the restroom. The bonus football fan makes an ambitious but ultimately unsuccessful campaign to steal his seat while he is gone.
21:43 – The pig-shaped travel pillow is taken for a tour of the compartment so that everyone can take a selfie with it. It is objectively entertaining.
21:46 – The Octopus returns and kicks the bonus fan out of his seat. The pig-shaped travel pillow returns to its rightful owner.
21:56 – The Octopus and I make a show of getting ready to go to sleep. The football fans make a show of opening another round of beers.
22:13 – I resign myself to jamming my headphones as deep down my ear canals as they will go and blast a true crime podcast.
22:25 – I start a passive aggressive campaign for quiet so that I can go to sleep. My opening gambit is to make a big show of taking a painkiller against the headache throbbing in my temples. None of the football fans notice.
22:33 – I sigh dramatically. The football fans do not hear me.
22:40 – The bonus football fan attempts to use my armrest to store his beer. I hand it back to him and tell him “Oh, you forgot this.” He is confused.
23:01 – The train makes a longer stop at a station. Our fellow passengers disembark for a smoke break on the platform and the Octopus and I escalate our tactics. We roll down the blinds and turn off the lights to send a message.
23:10 – The passengers reboard the train. They have not noticed the signal that it’s time to be quiet. I’m starting to think they didn’t hear the Conductor’s announcement that quiet hours have started.
23:21 – The Octopus, like some kind of maniac, asks our fellow passengers to be quiet. They apologize and kick the bonus football fan out into the hallway. This doesn’t do much to reduce the noise, as all the people he wants to talk to are in our compartment and he must now shout through the door.
00:06 – The train stops at a station so that they can add train cars from an incoming train. The other passengers disembark to smoke. The Octopus and I debate jamming the door to prevent re-entry.
00:37 – It is time for a loud discussion about the starting lineup for tomorrow’s (today’s?) game. By their fervor I am forced to conclude that my fellow passengers are collectively the team manager.
00:53 – The party continues. Neither side shows signs of backing down. The train has not moved from the platform. The European Experiment is a failure.
02:11 – We have reached the talent show portion of the trip. One of our fellow passengers shows his mastery of circular breathing by talking continuously without having to pause for air. The bonus football fan spends the next 45-minutes singing Shakira’s 2010 World Cup hit Waka Waka. He only knows the part that goes “Waka Waka, Ey ey.” His commitment to singing the song anyway is admirable.
02:59 – Mr. Circular Breathing says goodnight to his friends and falls asleep instantly. We know he is asleep because he snores like a Canadian lumberjack. I weep silently.
03:05 – The Octopus gets up to use the restroom and I put my legs on his seat. The bonus football fan glances in our compartment glances in and is disappointed when he sees I have thwarted his attempt to take the now empty seat.
04:10 – The train starts moving again after 4 hours. The Octopus points out that since the delay was more than 2 hours, we can get 50% of the cost of our tickets back. This raises my morale slightly.
05:09 – The sun rises. It is June 21st and officially the longest day of the year. It feels like the longest night of the year.
08:31 – The Bonus Football Fan, who had fallen asleep in the corridor, wakes up and decides it is time for our compartment to wake up as well. I have run out of podcasts.
09:42 – The train runs parallel to the Mainz. The views of castles and historic villages along the shore are idyllic. The scent from the bathroom at the end of the train car is not.
10:36 – What is football? What is sport? What is time?
11:15 – The snacks are gone. The food trolley on the train has run out of sandwiches and chips as well.
11:53 – We arrive in Düsseldorf and the football fans disembark. The bonus football fan celebrates a joyous reunion with his girlfriend after 16 hours apart. She was also on the train, but he didn’t see her because he spent the entire train ride lounging in our compartment. She looks well rested.
11:54 – The Octopus and I are finally able to sleep.
13:01 – The train stops in Emmerich. The Octopus makes a daring dash to the station bakery to forage for food. He does not need to run—the train has a mechanical issue. The conductor tries to solve it by turning the train off and on again.
13:50 – We are still at the station and have now accumulated 5 hours’ worth of delay. I am fielding messages from concerned relatives asking when we will get there. My father and uncle hatch a plan to pick us up at the station. They are taking it as seriously as a lone survivor making a mad dash into a zombie-infested city to rescue a loved one. I am no longer sure if I am a zombie or a loved one.
15:15 – We arrive at the wedding venue, 23 hours after leaving home. We raid the kitchen and gorge until dinner, then gorge ourselves again. I wish for the Football Fans’ team to lose in the group stage of the Euro Cup. It’s the worst curse I can think of.
Working on the night trains was my summer job at the student. I once had a group of English soccer fans join my train. They came off the ferry totally drunk, and the first thing they said when they met me was “we want to buy all your beer.” An hour in the journey they pulled the emergency brake. Creativity is a wonderful thing …
Sounds like they would have gotten along really well with the bonus football fan!