Over breakfast on Friday morning I made sure that, after using the hot water dispenser for my green tea, I switched it off; the last thing I wanted was the old crab coming out from under her stone to berate me for flooding the floor again. After dispensing the water, I lifted up the handle and, lo and behold, it kind of switched itself to the 'on' position and needed an additional upwards 'flick' to be considered in the off position.
My breakfast was a carbon copy of the day before: cereal with strawberry yoghurt and a couple of mini pastries. I looked around at the overall offering and there was nothing else that appealed. I didn't want cheese or cooked meats, I couldn't be bothered with the sausages and scrambled eggs and I wasn't interested in a hard-boiled egg. I got up, returned to the room and started the process of packing stuff away. I wasn't going to have a shower, but decided that I shouldn't be such a slob so I indulged in a long, long shower, enjoying every minute of it before realising that enough is enough and then stepping out and drying myself down.
I decided to check out early and leave my bags at the hotel.
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| Köln Cathedral, Friday 2nd June 2023 |
There is never enough time for anything and I noticed a potential problem lurking when I looked at my travel documentation. The train from Köln to Brussels Midi was departing at 1242hrs and the woman who arranged my travel back in Brussels on Wednesday afternoon had me on a train from Dusseldorf to Köln at noon. Somehow I knew that leaving just 12 minutes to find the connection was not enough, assuming the journey time was 30 minutes, so I forfeited what I'd hope would be a pleasant walk recorded on Strava and went to check out the situation at the station's information desk. This is another good reason for staying in a hotel just a short walk from a mainline station. The journey from the Madison was easily under five minutes.
Now, I won't lie to you and say that the roads around the station are genteel and pleasant, they're not, but equally it's not THAT bad. There are many donor kebab shops and mobile phone outlets and sometimes those wandering around look a bit, well, you know, not exactly the sort of people you'd like to spend the evening with, but it's not dangerous. Furthermore, as I've already said, the Novum Madison is not the swishest hotel in town – it still has room keys for heaven's sake – but, as I've said, it's clean, comfortable and friendly and the breakfast is fine too so I'm not complaining. I can imagine that some people will come out of Dusseldorf's central station and want to get as far away as possible from the sex shops, the kebab restaurants and the men who seem to do nothing but sit on plastic chairs drinking tea all day, but I love this part of the city, mainly because I don't engage with it; I go straight to the Madison without passing go or collecting £200 and once inside, that's it, there's Karlstrasse, my favourite restaurant, I have all I need. And just for the record, I never visit the sex shops either, they're all too much of a cliche and I would say, outdated, past their prime, no longer relevant.
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| Köln Cathedral, another angle... |
A word or two about my suitcase. It's a bit like a frisky dog who is too much to handle. For a start it's on four sets of casters, meaning it doesn't have to be tilted but can remain upright and simply pushed along. The problems arise if I forget to hold on to it because it then races off alone and will happily travel the length of the railway carriage with me running behind it; it's happened a couple of times on this trip and now I hold tightly to the handle to stop it bounding off and crashing into a fellow passenger further along the carriage. In all honesty, for these shorter trips I need a smaller case, preferably even a rucksack. I saw a really nice one in the Samsonite shop at St Pancras International.
When I reached Köln there was over an hour to kill before the 1242 departed for Brussels, but once again, while it's easy to think there's a lot of time, the reality is different. Once I'd had a cappuccino and a bun in Starbucks (it was the last thing I'd eat for the rest of the day) it was time to find platform eight and board the train. I was sitting by the window and once again I didn't have a full window, but it didn't matter as I sat there reading and eventually fell asleep for around an hour. When I awoke we were in Liege and time flew by fast as we soon arrived in Brussels Midi. I went straight away to the Eurostar terminal and checked in and then found that there were no foodservice outlets beyond passport control, only a retail offering, so I didn't bother. I had a bottle of mineral water that I'd purchased at the Starbucks in Köln so I finished that and ate nothing more until I reached home.They say that drinking water fights off hunger and it's true.
What I've always hated is the Society of the Spectacle, not the book, but the reality. I thought it was reserved for international airports, but no, it's at the Eurostar terminal in Brussels too. Cigarettes, booze, perfume and because there's no foodservice outlet, packaged sandwiches too. I did my usual trick and used one of the testers, I must have smelled good. In fact I know I did because the perfume (it was called Explorer) was pretty potent, just how I like it, although I might have overdone it. That said, when I later walked through the door at home nobody passed comment.
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| Three fridge magnets from Dusseldorf, Köln and Brussels |
The journey from Brussels to London took around two hours, probably a little more, but it was fairly smooth even if the train had been delayed by around 25 minutes. Sitting next to me was a management consultant who had some kind of diversity role to play within a firm of solicitors. She was very pleasant and we enjoyed a decent conversation about racism and Brexit and eventually the train arrived at St Pancras and we said goodbye. Oddly I never told her my name and she didn't tell me hers, which is fair enough. She lived in London but originated from Lagos in Nigeria.
I took the tube to Victoria without encountering any problems and then an overground train to Sanderstead from where I pushed my unruly suitcase all the way home in the sunshine, listening to the grating sound of plastic casters against tarmac as I walked along the streets. Soon I was home and eventually I decided upon an early night, but not before I placed my three fridge magnets – from Dusseldorf, Köln and Brussels – on the fridge door. I've got to go back in fortnight's time but I doubt I'll be buying anymore fridge magnets, that would be ridiculous.
