Relieved, I find myself a seat in the cold winter. Chewing gum. For 45 minutes. Waiting for my train. And believe you me, I did not even as much as get on Facebook (I lie). As soon as the long awaited train arrives, it dawns on me I should not even have alighted the last one about an hour ago, because this new train was heading to the same destination (Rosendaal) as that one I alighted. No need to panic, I board the train humming "I wanna wish you a merry Christmas" in February, and gracefully take a seat while secretly wondering how on our concrete earth I would end up in Belgium now that we were headed to Rosendaal which was still in Netherlands. I make a mental note to always bring a map.
I have always thought of myself as a traveler (and all those trips I plan and never actually take, count here as well) but this journey felt like my maiden one. I was in foreign continent, on my own, barely having understood my way around getting tickets, let alone maneuvering my way around train stations.
...getting visas is a whole new chapter also known as "daytime nightmare". The process is such a headache that whoever said people don't really want foreigners in their countries could possibly have been on to some truth.