Long Journey Into the Night

Previous episodes:
https://www.abctales.com/story/luigipagano/three-men-and-car
https://www.abctales.com/story/luigipagano/mastplan
https://www.abctales.com/story/luigipagano/going-dutch-edited 
https://www.abctales.com/story/luigipagano/give-me-moonlight 

I waited outside the building until I saw the light go off in the third-floor apartment's window and then began my search for a taxi.

That proved to be fruitless as Eva had warned me it would be. I had no choice but to start walking and hope I might hitch a lift from a passing car.

Moving vehicles seemed to prove as elusive as the taxis and my only mode of transport had to be Shank's pony.

It looked likely to be a long journey through the night.

I didn't know how far the city centre was and even though I had a tourist's map, it was difficult to get an idea of the distance, especially as I didn't know my present location.

I could see that Rembrandtplein, the rendezvous for my pals and me, was quite near the station where we had left our luggage.

While I was scrutinising signposts to see if I was going in the right direction a car stopped and the driver asked in French:

“Avez vous besoin d'aide?”

Did I need help? Yes indeed, now more than ever.

“Oui, merci. Je voudrai aller à la gare d'Amsterdam”, I replied thanking him for the kind offer.

Like me, he didn't know the city but he eventually saw the sign 'treinstation', dropped me off and drove away.

I didn't know, and neither did he, that there are nine rail stations in Amsterdam and this was not the one I wanted.

Not that it mattered anyway because, as I later learned, the trains run from six in the morning till midnight and, as it was past closing time, the gates of all nine stations were locked.

When I got to Rembrandt Square I found out that also Alf and Giovanni had lost their way and arrived far too late to catch the train to Utrecht.

The Square was deserted but there were some chairs and tables outside a bar.

We sat and started to talk about our options when the last person we wanted to see came into view: the Dutch equivalent of Dixon of Dock Green, a policeman.

He asked what we were doing, sitting outside a closed bar at such a late hour, examined our documents, and, having heard our explanation and convinced weren't up to any mischief, he gave us the address of a local hostel where we could spend the rest of the night. 

© Luigi Pagano 2023