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Monday 1st January – Walsall
January 1st again, and the same New Year’s Day feeling when I woke up this morning: relief that last year is exactly that, followed by a sense of dread about the year ahead.
Sat on the side of the bed for a minute, staring at the stains on the carpet which started blurring as last year’s ‘highlights’ whirled around inside my head: endless days of tedium, teaching French and German to kids whose mission in life is to flick me red raw with bits of chewed up Paris Match; endless nights of marking ungrammatical sentences about guinea pigs and ‘mon boy band favori’.
The summer hols in Skegness offered some relief until I slipped on a discarded cheeseburger and apparently created the most hilarious case of groin strain ever witnessed by Lincolnshire locals. Could just about walk again in time for the September OFSTED visit, on the first day of which the head of languages decides to have a nervous breakdown… That slowly brings me to Christmas, the season of goodwill to all men, which Tina, my girlfriend of eighteen months, obviously thinks is code for ‘dump Gerard’.
Then I remembered and smiled to myself, as the stains came back into focus. I don’t have to look at them anymore! It’s Bye-Bye Black Country Day minus one, and there’s absolutely nothing to stop me. I’m twenty-five, with no wife, no girlfriend anymore, not even a guinea pig, and a rented room in a house I share with Jan and Phil, whose baby will be terrorising my only peace at night from February…
It’s nearly time for me, Gerard Philey, to go out and get a life. There must be more than what these last few years have offered. I can become Signor Cosmopolitano – surely. Saw a JFK quote in the paper last week:
“You cannot become what you want to be by remaining what you are”.
Spot on. Enough of break-time what-ifs, bus stop musings, and bed-time wondering. Am determined this year’s diary will not make as depressing (and boring) reading as last year’s. There’s a big continent out there, and I’m more than ready for it. 1996 and Bruxelles, capitale de l’Europe, j’arrive!!
Tuesday 2nd January - on Eurostar
Am on my way! First time on Eurostar – marvellous, and beats the ferry palaver hands down. Spent the rest of yesterday sorting stuff out and on the phone with British Rail in Birmingham. Have brought just one case (mainly clothes, toiletries and the little angel of hope statue Aunty Vera left me).
Broke the news to Phil and Jan who didn’t try to dissuade me. In fact, they got quite enthusiastic about the idea. They don’t mind me storing my stuff in their attic, which is nice. Still, it’s only a few books, jumpers and a chest expander I used twice. Think they’ll be glad of my room for the baby.
Wrote a letter to the school for Phil to post. Feel a bit bad about leaving them in the lurch, but what the hell. Plenty of supply teachers. The thought of another year of it all wrenches my stomach open.
Anyway, could hardly sleep last night, so was really tired when I got on the train in Birmingham. Changed at Waterloo, and am now travelling through the French countryside. Can’t believe it’s doing 186 mph. Can’t believe I’ve actually had the guts to go. When I think about what I’m doing, I feel a bit sick.
Not met any interesting people yet. There’s some sort of Scandinavian woman opposite me trying to read upside down so will stop writing now. Cheek.
Wednesday 3rd January
Hotel Henri, Brussels!
Got here last night. Arrived at the Gare Centrale, which is unbelievably grotty, like some sort of diesel-filled underground car park. It was only when the arrival of a train from Zurich was announced in French and Flemish that I was sure I wasn’t in Wolverhampton. Finally emerged at street level, on the verge of about six lanes of traffic surrounded by nondescript grey buildings, so wondered again about Wolverhampton.
Went into a couple of hotels, quite pricey, but found a reasonable one down a few side streets, where I performed a fantastic Grade A* GCSE role play at the reception. Dumped my stuff on the bed, put the angel of hope statue on the TV, and felt exhilarated by the utter freedom of it all. Thinking about the endless possibilities made me dizzy, so lay in bed for half an hour.
After a quick wash and change, felt fine, and let myself loose on the city, feeling as if my life had moved into the fast lane. Had a pizza and wine in an Italian restaurant, then walked around a bit, feeling buoyed up by the dynamic atmosphere – the architectural splendour, the bustle at night, people speaking languages from all over Europe, and multi-lingual neon signs. Not a pasty-faced Midlander in sight.
Got up early this morning and went to a cafe nearby for a Croque monsieur and coffee, which made me feel very European. Long live the Maastricht Treaty! Have decided to relax for a few days before looking for work, so have done lots of tourist stuff today. Decided to do as much as I could on foot to save money and burn up some calories. Am starting to look a bit podgy around the middle.
Anyway, my first time in Brussels for years so enjoyed viewing the sights – the wonderful Grande Place with its golden gables, the little Mannekin Pis statue, and the looming guild houses. Marvellous sauntering down the cobbled streets, earwigging on conversations in French and German, feeling smug.
Made a mistake on the Grande Place, though, where I gave in to pressure to have a caricature portrait done – cost me an arm and a leg, but thought it was quite flattering in a way. Look like some sort of East End villain, with heavy stubble à la George Michael, a solid build and piercing eyes. “Un beau cadeau pour votre copine!”, said the artist as I parted with the cash. I smiled politely and thought of Tina. Have thrown it away.
Friday 5th January
Great to speak French to people who don’t just stare at me blankly, although so far only in bars and restaurants. Have had some incredible food on the Rue des Bouchers: one long street filled with nothing but elegant restaurants with mouth-watering displays of seafood.
Feel a bit lonely eating on my own but picked up a copy of La Rochefoucauld’s Maxims yesterday while browsing in a second-hand bookshop, so have read that over meals. It’s basically a collection of his thoughts, and some ring very true, especially with regard to women (Tina):
“Most women’s minds serve more to strengthen their madness than their reason”.
Monday 8th January
Spent the weekend sampling Belgian beer in musty bars with log fires blazing away, watching the snow outside, and contemplating how the barmaids manage to switch with total ease between gracious professionalism and supercilious disdain.
Had a hangover-and-a-half when I got up and couldn’t decide what to do as everything is a choice now, with no routine to fall back on. Suddenly felt overwhelmed and went back to bed for an hour.
Also concerned that I’m spending a lot, so eventually decided to look into some sort of work after all. Was even more concerned when I went into a few job agencies which only seemed to have jobs in IT, plumbing or escort services. Maybe I should retrain in all three and make a killing. Felt quite exhilarated by the idea of becoming an escort. Quite like the idea of living the Richard Gere life in American Gigolo. Tina always said I could earn a fortune, don’t quite see it myself, but then even she dumped me, so what does she know?
But what the hell, I can work the rest of my life. Have spent the evening chatting downstairs in the bar with Samuel, the hotel barman. He came over from the Belgian Congo in 1954 and didn’t get a job till 1963, so I’ve got nothing to worry about.
Friday 12th January
Rang mom and dad, told them that I’m on ‘study leave’. Couldn’t be bothered getting into the whole thing, and could tell they were hardly interested. No news on their part. Also rang Jan and Phil. He said the school had rung to check I was serious about the letter, but he hadn’t sensed any horror or panic. Charming! I’ve slaved away for three years at that school, and they’re not even going to make a bit of fuss about me going! Makes me glad I jacked it in.
Phil was clearly well impressed by the fact that I was still away and have no intention of returning. Made up a few sexploits just to make him jealous. Wish they’d been true.
Gerard Philey’s Euro-Diary: Quest for a Life can be purchased on Amazon.
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