Fandango has started a new challenge for the month of August and the prompt word for today is Trip. I’m going to write about a train trip my parents, sister and I took to Berlin in 2002.
At the time, you had this bargain called “schönes Wochenende” in Germany, which meant that for just €28, four people could travel all over Germany by train on a Saturday or Sunday. The only catch was that you had to take local railroads.
My parents, sister and I at the time lived in Apeldoorn, Netherlands, which isn’t too far from the German border. So we drove to Bad Bentheim to go on the train. The first train we took, drove us to Osnabrück. Then we took three more trains until we finally arrived at Berlin Hauptbahnhof. The last train we took, I remember, had Frankfurt an der Oder as its final destination. I found that fascinating.
I at the time had train routes as one of my autistic special interests. It was totally awesome learning all about the German local railroads.
The holiday in Berlin itself wasn’t a good experience. I had a lot of meltdowns and was pretty confused. I did like visiting a street called Straße des 17. Juni, because that year on 17 June I had first opened up about my distress that I’d suffered with for years. The street was named after a protest in east Berlin in 1953.
This was, actually, the last trip I took with my parents. The next year, I went to computer camp in Switzerland and the year after that, to blindness skills camp at the country’s training center for blind people. The year after that, I graduated from high school.
I feel pretty sad that I don’t have many memories about the trip to Berlin and the ones I do have, aren’t good. I guess trips rarely were enjoyable for me. That’s probably why I haven’t been on vacation with my husband in six years.
A lot of thoughts have been floating through my mind that I’ve wanted to blog about, but I couldn’t motivate myself to actually write. I’m not even sure what about these thoughts I wanted to write, so instead, I looked up a writing prompt again. Over at Mama’s Losin’ It, one of the prompts for this week is to share your favorite summer memory. Here goes.
In the early 1990s, my parents would take my sister and me camping at a campsite called Stortemelk at Vlieland, one of the Dutch Wadden Islands. We would send our baggage there via a now no longer existent transportation company called Van Gend & Loos and ourselves travel there by train and ferry. Our parents didn’t have a car at the time. This made the journey all the more interesting, because we met lovely people on the train.
We would often meet the same people at the campsite, but also we’d make new friends each year. In 1993, when I was seven, I remember we collected shells and bird feathers and such and put them on exhibit near our tent.
In 1994, we went again and this year was the year we built a number of treehouses. I was eight at the time and my sister was six. I still had a little vision, so I was able to join in with the rough-and-tumble play of the other kids. I loved this vacation most.
After that year, we stopped going to Vlieland for several years. The reason was our move from Rotterdam to Apeldoorn, so our parents wanted to use the summers to get to know their new city. When we returned to Vlieland in 1998, it was a lot less fun. I was twelve by this time and too old for treehouses. I was also too blind. I could no longer find my way to the campsite store or anywhere on my own.
The last time we went to Vlieland was in 1999. I have very few memories of that trip. I liked going again but probably just because I was used to the routine. It was no longer fun.
Welcome to day 20 in the #AtoZChallenge. I am feeling a bit frustrated with myself at the moment and as a result not as inspired to write. I hope this mood will lift while I’m in the process of writing this post. Today’s topic is travel. I was inspired to write about this by a nightmare I had last night, which was about a summer camp I attended in Russia in 2000. I don’t want to revisit that right now, so will instead be writing about my most enjoyable vacation.
This was, incidentally, also a summer camp. I attended the International Computer Camp for blind and visually impaired students in England in 2002. Because of my negative experiences with the summer camp in Russia, I had my reservations about going to this camp. Of course, this time I wouldn’t be the only blind person, but I still worried that I wouldn’t fit in.
The computer camp was held at a college for the blind in Loughborough, a town in the East Midlands. For this reason, we also took a trip to the West Midlands to see the Black Country museum or that’s what I remember it being called. This was something about the industrialization of England, but I wasn’t able to follow it much.
For most days, we had two workshops we could attend on computers and technology. I at the time had just discovered the Internet and was excited to learn what cool tech there was out there. I attended some workshops on word processing, but also on music and audio. I was also lucky enough to be on the editorial staff for the camp newspaper. I loved this and this was probably one reason I later began an online diary.
The staff worked at various disability agencies in their respective countries. One person I remember well worked at the University of Karlsruhe, Germany. He helped visually impaired students find their way through college. He taught a workshop on studying abroad, though it was more of a general survival skills for blind students workshop. This was perhaps the best experience I had there. It helped me realize that I wasn’t the only blind person out there trying to follow her dreams.
This was also the general message I took home from the camp: I am not alone. I met lots of blind and visually impaired young people from across Europe who were facing the same issues I was.
I returned to the international computer camp in 2003, this time in Switzerland. I liked that a little less, possibly because the Dutch staff who attended this time were a bit more pushy about my independence. I still enjoyed it though.