Tales From The Tracks

In order to better capture the moment,I brought a notebook along for the trip, which I've been writing in periodically to give my postings a lively feel. Here's a sampling of what I wrote at around 6 p.m. yesterday on the train from Duisburg to Amsterdam:
We've had some delays since I boarded some 90 minutes ago, and we still have about 45 minutes left. But earlier problems saved us, allowing me to get on the train since my friend -- whose name, which I've failed to mention earlier, is Rob-- and I just headed for the station without knowledge of the schedule. Although the air conditioning has been cutting in and out, this ride is much more comfortable than Monday's commute to the U.S. match.
Having grown up on Long Island and ventured out to the city plenty of times during rush hour with a subway ride still to come, I thought I was prepared for packed trains. I was wrong.
Not only were we packed in like pencils in a box, but it was so crowded starting at the entrance of the track you couldn't move forward or backward. I thought a nice perk of your World Cup ticket was that it included free local transportation to and from the match. I now realize tickets couldn't have been checked anyway, so the perk wasn't exactly used.
Back to the present -- at least, returning to my time on the train -- I've spent much of this journey by rail listening to my iPod, talking to three guys from San Diego and a group of people from outside Manchester, England. The San Diego trio are getting frustrated by our delay because they had planned to watch France play Switzerland, which will be halfway through by the time we arrive. I'll probably catch the end of the match at the hotel, but we plan on going to watch Brazil against Croatia.
I'll have to wait until tomorrow for the Heineken Experience, which I'm really looking forward to. The downside is I've been told once you have Heineken in Europe it doesn't taste as good in the U.S., and it is a favorite of mine.
I'm curious to see how the atmosphere is at the bars for a match in a neighboring country such as Holland.
To help pass the time, I went through my camera to see Monday's pictures. I smile upon seeing me and a fan wearing an Ecuador jersey. I approached him, recognizing the shirt from a photo that ran in the Bulletin for a story I did on an Ecuadorian student at NFA going to the World Cup. I introduce myself to this stranger -- his English is OK -- and tell him about my article and how excited I was for Ecuador after its upset of Poland on Opening Day, which could help the team qualify for the second round.
It's about the umpteenth time something like that has taken place on the trip. No matter how far you travel, it's amazing how small the world feels sometimes.