Finally home...

Finally home, and everyone else is asleep. I'm in the storage room, on a makeshift bed, while outside it's pouring with rain, and the sky is darkening. It's a little cramped next to the stacks of yet unpacked boxes, wooden boards, building materials and tool kit, but at least it's good to be home finally, especially after all these days of travel.

I've been so many places with mum this past week, and coupled with my recent trips to Southeast Asia, everything seems to be a blur for me. The days, nights, sceneries, experiences, memories, good and bad, all seem to merge and flow into one another. I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to 'capture' the past few weeks in words fully...

But I must say, traveling through Europe by train is perhaps the most convenient and scenic way to see and experience this continent, and the scenic mountains, seas and landscapes it has to offer.

I've made numerous train journeys with my mum growing up, and every one leaves me inspired and impressed. More enjoyable since as a child I've always been fascinated by trains and everything about them. So much so for years I had a train kit and would imagine 'driving' routes throughout Europe, connecting all these big cities and far away places right on the floor of my very own room... Somehow, the rocking motion and sounds of the train wheels, the rolling fields, villages, hills, creeks and valleys outside the window evoke such feelings of euphoria and longing for nature.

"My life has been worth it," I've heard my mum say a number of times whenever we travel together. And it's true, we are lucky to have the time and means to travel, to go wherever we like, to stop at any city or little hamlet, to wander the many avenues and alleyways in search of Europe's rich history and culture (which includes the latest fashion accessory for mum and her friends...). And often, while the scenery rolls past our windows, we think of dad who left behind the means for us to enjoy traveling, yet himself had left too soon...

Sample, savour, and commit to memory. One day, the pictures and memories can be replayed, and I can perhaps relish in the joy and excitement I shared with mum as we rode the rails of Europe...

Pickpockets beware!

Train, highspeed, Paris Gare du Nord- Rotterdam Centraal.
I've taken this journey a number of times since its opening over 10 years ago. I'm always curious why after each stop the conductor warns passengers through the loudspeaker to be ware of pickpockets and to be ever so vigilante of personal belongings.

Today I understand the reason.

One moment it was there.

The next we realised, it was no longer there.

Pretty valuable it was, in the literal sense of the word. But in the end it is only material.
Mum and I were both surprised that it happened so fast, but there was no blame, no real remorse, sadness or anger. But what can one do? Count the loses and let it go. We promised it would our secret. Maybe one day, long and far away from this day, I can tell someone and laugh about it.

Whoever took it may be laughing now already... Whoever took it may enjoy it, or sell it, but the bad karma is certain to return full price, if not multiplied.

Lesson learnt, albeit an expensive one. The Thalys from Paris to Amsterdam via Brussels and Antwerp is not safe. Keep your eyes and hands on your belongings at all times...

Train ride

We rode through the mountains, through the picturesque Swiss-French Alps, past fields, soaring mountains and winding streams. Sometimes there is only the two of us in the carriage, us and the sound of our chatter and laughter.

"Shame that dad can not join us..." mum said. True... people may question why I spend so much time with my mum while I could be off traveling or being with my peers. And sometimes I wonder myself too.

But then everytime I come to the same conclusion... life is only so much, and memories if not made will forever be lost.