We left home early in the morning and decided almost unanimously that yesterday hadn’t happened. Today would be the start of our freeform holiday—freeform so long as it conformed to the will of the wallet. We surrendered our cosmic positions as agents of chaos and ate lunch at IKEA. Our temporary destination would be Luxembourg, we thought. It sounded rich. And we reserved ahead: A cheap room for one night on a camping in Consdorf.
We breezed through sunlit country. At a tank station I switched to the wheel. With something resembling finesse I ensured we got to Maastricht. Bright colors and big banners draped all over told the story of the ongoing festival. It was the university’s opening act for the year. A week of parties, alcohol and fun. My family didn’t like any of that, though. We passed by suspiciously and with haste.
In a quieter area I presumed to be more safe, my brother got held hostage by a living statue. It went down like this: Brother-mine went to put money in the statue’s collection basket; she went and did her cute little routine, then she reached out to him, he took her hand, she clasped his hand with her other hand and then she stopped living and became a statue again. Still holding his hand (and eye contact).
Brother turned his head to us and said, “Um…help?”
Now my mother is a good mom, but she and I were unable to offer any help for the moment, because we were laughing.
“Don’t worry, I’ll save you,” she said, catching her breath. “Just let me get my wallet.”
Except for the hiccups shaking her stomach, though, she didn’t move.
“Gee, thanks,” brother said, returning his gaze to the eyes of the grinning statue. He couldn’t do much but smile back helplessly.
The stone missus clearly had no plans of letting go anytime soon. I don’t know why she changed her routine. Maybe she liked him. Then again, maybe she had a cold heart of stone and did it for the cold, hard cash. Which we (and by ‘we’ I mean ‘my mother’) eventually gave her.
The camping was set in a large, open forest area. Sunlight was gradually making its way up the branches of the trees, leaving the forest cool. We found our lodge for the night to be small as all hel…p was appreciated in transporting our luggage inside. Between the double bed and two benches was roughly one mangled square meter of floor space, but this meant the wooden oval hut was superbly cozy.
My brother and I played some ping-pong (outside) until it became too dark to see—and therefore by extension hit—the ball. Had we been clever enough to predict the predicament, we could’ve covered the little ball with glow-in-the-dark paint beforehand. Now, as it was no longer ‘beforehand’ and just ‘hand’, it was too late. We ambled back across part of the camping, stepped into our hut and prepared our mostly-pre-made salads. We used the plastic multipurpose cutlery I had legally been collecting from my university’s convenience store. Each bright green utensil combined the characteristics of a spoon, a knife and a fork.
“How is the food?” mom asked. She was sitting on the bench opposite from me, holding the package with her tomato salad in hand because we had no table.
“Iph goom,” brother managed. He was clearly enjoying his marinated leaves. As a gymnast, he required layers of fresh gruel.
I put my plastic spnorkf in my bowl and swallowed. “Honestly, this Ceasar salad is still better than any I’ve had in a restaurant.”
“Rewwy?” brother asked.
“Yep,” I said. “Although I’ve only had two in restaurants. But I think that’s still saying something.”
Although my brother’s current inability to speak was saying the most.
I’d brought my 2-in-1 laptop, which could be used as laptop and as a tablet so let’s call it my Lablet, as well as my second external hard drive in case something happened back home. I squeezed myself in-between the others, holding the device, and we watched a half a comedy show on it together.
Then: later. As reading was a staple activity for our family, and as although we were on vacation we were still ourselves, I opened Nothing to Lose and read. Warm on the couch, while mother and brother were sitting and reading in the 2-person bed at the end of the cabin, next to the couch. It was a simple but awesome evening.
This was Day #1 (again) of ‘A Place to Get Lost Towards’. Click here to go to Day #3, where I discover a peculiar street named after my city of birth, though I’m not sure I like the connection. Click here to return to the overview page.
