April 8th, and I have made my way to the local bus station after a night of minimal sleep. The lack of sleep was a combination of want and insomnia caused by anxiousness. Want, purely because 99 percent of my journey would be through England, from my home to London then down through Dover to Folkstone to catch the train that travels through the Euro-tunnel to Calais in France, this part of the trip taking only 35 minutes … amazing when you consider it … OR in darkness from Calais, through France, Belgium, Holland and into Germany.
I spent most of the journey from my home to Calais sleeping. I can’t read in a moving vehicle without feeling nauseous and whether true or not, I attribute this to my peripheral vision range, so sleep is a good thing. *grins*
Having never traveled through the Euro-tunnel, I got up and walked around, stretching my ancient and creaking legs. Each bus has it’s own section with dividing doors at either end. The bathroom facilities at in the first or last car so heaven help you if you need to “go”. *laughs* There are tiny windows through which you can see either tunnel walls flashing past or once you are on the French side, scattered windmill generators and lights that we move past so quickly that their light is reminiscent of lighting flashes.
I woke up when we arrived at Heidelberg, Germany. There was a feint light in the sky to the East heralding the impending sunrise and I could make out enough to know the city was one I would like to see and explore in the daytime. Onward we go, next scheduled stop … Nuremberg and I look forward to seeing what the bus allows of this historic city.
Nuremberg, a wondrous mix of semi-ancient and modern post war buildings that each Christmas hosts one of the largest Christkindlesmarkts in Germany and one of the most famous in the world. Nuremberg is in the German state of Bavaria and lies situated on the Pegnitz River and the Rhine-Main-Danube Canal.
Next scheduled stop is Plzen, in the Czech Republic and my journey is almost at an end. We are approximately an hour and a half outside of Prague and I can feel my “home” calling to me. As the bus lumbers along, sights become familiar and upon passing Zlichen, I call up Angelika to whine because I am so close that I want to leap off the bus.
Apart from too few stops for refreshment and smoke breaks and a pair of drivers that did not speak English. The trip was excellent and I look forward to making it again. Flying over is great … a few hours driving to the airport, an hour or so spent checking in, doing the security thing and then a short flight to Prague. But once in a while, the trip by bus will make a change. I just need to remember that next time, I pack a picnic to make certain I don’t sit listening to my stomach grumble and complain.