Sunday, July 4, 2010

Quiet Summer

More like a poor Summer, jeez.

Upon my return from Fennoscandia I found I was retroactively un-... dis... er..., that is to say, my enrolment at the local hogeschool had been cancelled. (In their defence, I had failed to pay my tuition and hadn't showed up at all. ) This left we without my scholarship and working for a living. In the meantime I was a month behind on rent, meaning I now had nothing in the bank and needed to get 700 euros not to be kicked out. My deal to get a contract at the print shop was cancelled because I'd been away longer than I'd planned and-

You know what, forget this. This is uninteresting. I'll write about some of the times I managed to get out despite my dire financial situation.


I make a point of not being at home when Queen's day rolls around. It just doesn't seem right. Walking around in between the drunk orange-clad retards was never my thing. (Apparently we're doing real well in the World Cup right now, so it's about as bad at the moment too.)

So I asked Mommy and Daddy (those of you who frequent my blog know this is what I call Mailys and Ulf) where they were going to be, and Paris it was. Two days before I left I ran into Christine, who decided to join me. I give you, the result:


At some point I hosted a girl from Bergkamen, a small place near Dortmund. (For the topographically impaired, that's in Germany). When she heard about my hitching adventures, she was dying to get into some hitching. So we checked out a date and a place and Zurich it was, where we stayed with a local politician.

Also I revisited old favorites Bremen, Wroclaw and Berlin and hit the 30 000 k on my hich-o-meter. Midsummernight wasn't as big as usual, but I'll write about how I got ass-raped there some other time.

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