Euro Tripped

by Sally Bryan

  “Buy him a razor blade?” He looked horrified.

  “Not for suicide.” I’d slapped him on the arm. “What do you think I am?”

  And thus, in arriving at our present location, we’d at least walked along the riverbank and seen much of the sites and beautiful grand architecture of Bordeaux.

  As it transpired, there was nothing wrong with Dan’s appetite. For sure, he’d devoured a starter, main course and the largest crème brûlée I’d ever seen. Gabe had matched him, whilst I’d foregone the starter and opted for a basic pasta dish with no dessert, although I, along with the boys, had commenced drinking in earnest.

  “Who was that bitch, anyway?” I all but shouted, startling the two of them, who’d been discussing something or other. I’d spent the last few minutes sitting with one leg crossed over the other, my foot air tapping so much it was beginning to fatigue.

  Dan caught my eye from across the empty beer glasses. “Her name’s Anna and I’m sorry about all that.”

  “Anna?” I grunted the name and hoped she’d been towed away with the vehicle.

  His eyes again roamed over my breasts and I made a mental note to wear a jacket if ever again I was in his company. “Don’t mind her too much, she’s been in a sulk most of the day because we drove straight through the Alps, no stops. You know, for a traveller,” and he made air quotes with his fingers, “she sure gets cranky when she, um, travels.” He laughed and rolled his eyes. “Some women, though…” he left the rest unsaid and turned back to Gabe, though not before ogling me once more.

  “So, is she merely tagging along for a cheap ride or are you actually travelling companions, for lack of a better expression?” Gabe asked a little too enthusiastically whilst leaning away from me and I felt like kicking him.

  I’d seen the woman, briefly, at least from the neck up, and the less Gabe was around that one the better. I’d been given an explanation as to why she reacted to me the way she did, as unsatisfactory as it was and other than that, no more details were necessary. In fact, the sooner I could forget about the pair of these interlopers the better and then Gabe and I could commence doing what we wanted.

  Dan flapped a limp hand. “She’s been tagging along since Denmark. People come and go, you know? They pay for the petrol, I drive. Apart from the cramped conditions and stench coming from the back, it works well. I nearly bagged her in Paris, city of romance and all that but the hostel was crammed like a Hong Kong high-rise so I could never get the privacy to proposition her and my car’s way too small and uncomfortable for any hanky-panky, not that she wouldn’t be worth the attempt, as well as any knock on cramps and bruises.” He sipped his beer and leaned back. “Just biding my time.”

  For a brief moment, I almost felt sorry for this girl, Anna, then remembered the reception she’d given me and decided she and Dan were probably a logical match.

  “Anyway, enough about her. Barcelona is where it’s at.” Dan declared, slamming down his empty glass to emphasise the point.

  I wouldn’t dispute that.

  “I wouldn’t dispute that,” Gabe said, eerily mirroring my thoughts and I pulled him back into me, “and I’m sure we’ll get there eventually.”

  “Eventually?” He gaped in an exaggerated way, “you’re four hundred miles from the greatest city outside of Vegas and you’re telling me eventually? We’re talking the three Bs; beer, beaches and the best women in Europe. I can see we need to work on you, my friend.”

  I sat forward, awaiting Gabe’s response and he shot me a quick look before returning to the oaf. “It’s just that the next stop’s Freya’s choice but I’m sure we can meet you there.”

  Oh, I wasn’t so sure about that. I leaned forward, rubbed my chin and made a small sigh for Dan’s benefit. “Barcelona sounds really great, Dan The Man, but tomorrow morning, we’re heading to Carcassonne.” I grabbed ahold of Gabe’s hand beneath the table and pulled it into my lap.

  Dan squinted, “where?” His cluelessness was hardly a surprise.

  “It’s in France, Dan, not much of a party place, more cultural and historical than anything else.” Which meant it probably wasn’t for him.

  “Oh, ok.” He frowned as my heart filled with blossom. “Well then, I’ll make sure I’m up early to wave the two of you off.”

  Gabe’s chin wrinkled and I felt a pang of guilt, which, I was sure, would pass. “But the night’s not over yet. It’s what, ten o’clock? We’ll hit a few bars, drink some more dreadful French beer and reminisce.”

  Dan nodded, even as his bottom lip protruded most beautifully. “Aye, we can do that.” And then bizarrely, he pulled out from his back pocket a small sachet of vinegar and I studied the strange man, aghast, as he proceeded to make a small tear before sucking out the contents.

  I was frozen to my seat and unable to react but luckily Gabe asked the question that was still trying to form in my befuddling head.

  “Still get vinegar cravings?”

  “Huh? Oh, I sort of moved on to Lea & Perrins Worcestershire Sauce now. It’s slightly less acidic … probably not as many long-term consequences either but it’s hard to come by in most countries. Still, chilli sauce works well enough if you’re in a bind and there’s always trusty vinegar no matter where you are.”

  I hastily called for the bill, assuming Dan would offer to pay his third but he didn’t and I winced at the total as Gabe produced our joint travelling account card and settled up.

  Thankfully, it was only one night.

  * * *

  It was a pleasant enough return walk along the riverbank with a gentle late evening breeze that felt so good on the skin. Dan had managed well, going a full twenty minutes without saying anything that made me want to shove him into the Garonne River and then we arrived back at the hostel.

  “It’s too bad we ain’t travelling further together. It would’ve been awesome to get to know you better.” He kicked at a can on the pavement, not knowing it was full and splashed beer over his cargo shorts.

  I leapt back but such a trifle thing could hardly diminish my glee. “Aye, as you say in Yorkshire, it’s too bad but I’m sure we’ll meet again.” I held out my hand but he moved in for the hug, which I had no choice other than to reciprocate as my breasts crushed uncomfortably against his chest.

  And four and five and six…

  “Well, safe travels,” I pushed him off and turned to Gabe, “have fun. I don’t mind driving tomorrow.”

  His face brightened at the invitation to drink as much as he wanted and we kissed before the two of them strolled off.

  I stepped toward the hostel and caught sight of Dan’s car, still parked in the loading bay except now the girl was no longer inside and a ticket was taped to the windscreen.

  “Tut tut and good luck finding him, you may as well just write that off now.” I giggled to myself and held onto the bannister before using the keycard to enter the hostel.

  It was about an hour before midnight, hardly late, but around my usual bedtime. It was probably inevitable I’d end up going to sleep later and later as the trip progressed though right now, I was still on Scottish student doctor time, and contrary to popular belief, it meant that by now I was dead.

  The communal room was still alive with the expected late night activities of travellers who’d long forgotten what it was like to have responsibility, how much I envied them. The screen blared a football game, a small crowd converged around an air hockey table, a solitary figure on the sofa was reading a celebrity gossip magazine with a glass of wine, a long-haired man left the kitchen with a plate of food and the warden yawned from behind the front desk.

  I grabbed a glass in the kitchen, pre-washed the thing and filled it with enough water to last the night before heading upstairs and entering the dorm room, noting the door’s stickiness and a black patch at hand level from a million people like Dan. Of the twelve dorm room beds, only three were presently occupied, which meant I could anticipate being roused multiple times throughout the night as each fel
low guest staggered their grand entrance. I collected my kitbag and traipsed to the bathroom.

  “Oh, Christ.” It was as expected with filth and bugs and long strands of hair stuck to the walls and mirror and an extra special clump in the plug. Someone had made a big effort in trying to make the place look hip and trendy by diagonally overlapping posters of local shows and pinning beer coasters sporadically to the wall when I’d simply settle for a damp cloth and some bleach. The stalls were cleaner than expected and I used one to change into my night clothes before plodding to the sink and delving bagwards for my toothbrush.

  Brush, brush, brush this way, keeps our teeth clean all day. Under, over, round the sides, makes our teeth nice and white.

  I spat out the foam, rinsed with water and then the door creaked open.

  “Oh, hey, there you are, I’ve been searching the whole hostel for you.”

  I could see who it was in the mirror and, not wanting any drama when I was this beat and desiring only my bed, decided against turning to greet her, which was rude, I know, but then what did she expect? “You’ve been searching for me? Why?” I asked in a tired, barely interested tone.

  She stepped closer, “I just felt so terrible for the way I spoke to you earlier…”

  I stuffed my toothbrush back into the kitbag “…where is it…” and rooted within for my contact lens case.

  “…And I just wanted to say, I’m sorry.”

  My eyes flicked up to the mirror, briefly catching a tower of blonde piled atop her head with a single red dyed braid left loose to fall over her cheek where it came to rest on a slender shoulder. I continued rustling within, feeling tweezers, nail file and other crap. “You know, it’s fine, I’m over it. There’s no need to apolog … ah, got it.” I opened the case and squirted in a quantity of liquid before moving closer to the mirror and delving into my eye socket.

  “Ah, phew,” her silhouette’s hand moved to brush her forehead in a cartoonish way, “and I’ve been feeling so bad all this time. I’m not usually like that, just so you know.”

  “Um hmm, so why did you do it?” My eyeball throbbed as I clamped the lid open with thumb and finger, slid the lens to the side, pinched and pulled it home.

  She laughed and leaned too close, making me shimmy to the side. “Oh, it was the guy I’m travelling with.” She giggled and covered her eyes, “I shouldn’t speak badly of a guy who’s not here to defend himself but believe me, it was the journey from hell.” She spoke with what sounded like an Australian accent and her tonality was friendly and inviting, quite the opposite to the vibe I’d have expected, or the vibe I was giving now.

  But what woman doesn’t love her gossip? And since whatever I learned might relate to Gabe, I finally turned to face her and in response, she made a small tilt of the head and displayed her teeth.

  “I know Dan,” I began, “he’s best friends with my boyfriend and I’m not sure there’s anything you could say that would surprise me.”

  She was wearing a light blue sleeveless pyjama top with the logo L♥︎ve Sleep. Her arms were slender and toned with hints of feminine muscle, a girl who hadn’t been on the road long, or if she had then unlike Dan, she hadn’t been neglecting her health. Her pink shorts cut off a little too high for my conservative style, but whatever she thought would gain her the most attention from the boys, I guess, it was surely working on Dan and doubtless her orange thighs were working on him too. My overriding thought was that this was precisely the type of bird best kept as far away from Gabe as possible, not that I believed for one minute my man would stray.

  She nodded in acknowledgement. “I really shouldn’t, but gosh, he drives so fast, my nerves were shattered by the end of it. France has very long, straight roads, you could literally fall asleep and not veer off course but I don’t enjoy going over a hundred miles per hour on them, oh and the hairpin bends … I thought he was about to drive us off a mountain and when you ask him to slow down, he gets so bad-tempered. And you wouldn’t believe the sites and views we missed. He wouldn’t even stop for a photo. It makes me wonder why he even bothers travelling. Meh, he just wanted to see his friend, I guess.” She spoke with incredibly animated expressions, her eyebrows, in particular, appeared to dance around her face as her small nose waggled and her blue eyes never left my own. Indeed, it was hard to believe this was the same girl from before.

  I’d spent the majority of the last few minutes facing away whilst she’d been giving me her whole attention and such was her warmth that I almost felt bad, almost. “Sometimes it’s good to breathe,” I nodded, “see? But yes, he did mention something about missing the Alps. It’s a bummer.”

  She wasn’t discouraged by my indifference. “Well, I’ve got the rest of my life to see them, so no harm done. I’m sure I’ll be back someday. I recommend Bruges if you’ve not seen it. They say Belgium’s boring but I didn’t find that, unless you think wonderful buildings and great chocolate’s boring.” There was a brief pause for air. “So tell me, what’s been your favourite place so far?”

  I turned back to the mirror, exhaled and went for the other lens, feeling my eyeball quivering in its socket as I plunged my finger into it. “You know, I really haven’t seen all that much…” I shook my head and sighed, why not just humour the moron, she’d be gone tomorrow, “the port of Poole in Dorset was great. I especially enjoyed the long lines waiting to embark the ferry.”

  She slapped me playfully on the shoulder. “Oh, don’t let the French hear you say that.”

  My jaw clenched, another inch to the side and she’d have had my eye. “I’ll remember that.”

  “Anyway, my name’s Arwen.” And as she brought her hand up, all I could do was snort.

  “Arwen?” It was hard to hide the derision in my tone but again, she showed no sign of taking offence.

  She nodded and again displayed that annoying set of perfect teeth. “That’s correct.”

  “As in Lord of the Rings, Arwen?” And not, as Dan had said, Anna - Oh, Dan.

  “Partly and partly because of my Welsh ancestry, but in my parents’ defence, I was born way before the films were made so at least I was named so because they’d read the books.” She grinned and I couldn’t tell if she was sadistically enjoying my almost mocking tones.

  “Well, that makes it much better.” I was a bad, bad person. And then I noticed her hand still lingering near my belly and so I troubled myself to take it and as I felt her warm smooth skin, all I could think was whether she’d touched one of the doors in this place. “I’m Freya.”

  “Freya?” One side of her mouth turned up as the corresponding eyebrow drooped. “Dan said you were called Frances.”

  I laughed and it probably even sounded genuine. “Trust me, that one’s a lost cause and if you’re sticking with him then my advice is to…” I stopped myself, remembering he was Gabe’s best friend and what business was it of mine anyway. The girl had travelled this far with him so either she was only using him for a cheap ride or was the stupid sort of girl who went for the boorish, overconfident, all talk type of man and judging from her almost stereotypical blonde bimbo appearance, apparent ditsy demeanour and probable bipolarism, I wouldn’t put it past her. “Freya, my name’s Freya.”

  “Well, Freya, I brought this as a peace offering.” She produced a bottle of red wine from behind her back, which to my astonishment, she’d managed to conceal this whole time whilst I’d been preoccupied with ignoring her.

  My hand found its way to my chest as I waved the other dismissively. “Oh, that’s kind but unnecessary, it’s already forgotten, really.” And now I felt bad for snorting at her name, for being impudent and for being told to ‘fuck off’ in the first place.

  She bobbed it in front of my solar plexus as the skin around her nose turned red. “No, I insist, I’d like you to have it.”

  Wow, so she really did feel bad about telling me to fuck off.

  “Well, if you insist then I’ll take it.”

  She handed it over and again wipe
d her brow in that cartoonish way. “I never go to sleep on an argument or unresolved bad feelings, I’d be having nightmares otherwise.”

  “Well, you can now consider all bad feelings resolved.” I nodded and then we both stood in awkward silence until I felt compelled to say something else and so I turned the bottle to read the label. “Château Haut-Brion.”

  She bounced on her toes. “It’s a Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot blend. The guy in the shop said all Bordeaux wines are like that.”

  “Um, ok, I gotcha.” More silence. “And I’ll enjoy this, so thanks.”

  She got the message and backed up. “Then I’ll say goodnight and best of luck with the rest of your trip. Maybe we’ll bump into each other again at some point down the road.”

  “It’s always possible,” I smiled and nodded again to finalise this exchange, “goodnight, Arwen.” I turned back to the sink, heard her feet patter toward the door and felt the draught as it opened and closed after her.

  I poised the bottle over the plughole and moved to unscrew the cap. “Damn, a cork?” She must really have been sorry. “Oh well, maybe I’ll enjoy this at some point down the road.”

  Chapter Three

  Carcassonne

  If I was grumpy then there was a bloody good reason for it.

  It happened just after three in the morning when the door opened, flooding the room with light before crashing back into its frame, rousing every man and woman within the twelve man dorm, ear plugs be damned. And in case that hadn’t done the job, Dan had then stumbled into the metallic lockers, knocking off a glass vase and smashing it on the floor. As it transpired, there were plenty of French people in the room and all were keen to teach us some of their more colourful words, not that those additions to my limited French vocab soothed my mood now as I sat back on the couch, sunglasses donned whilst waiting for Gabe to shower and collect his bags so we could finally get out of Dodge.