Near the main station in Rotterdam, nestled amongst a wall of tenement houses and pubs, lies a small, cluttered workshop. From somewhere between the jumble of bicycles, wheels and metal, appeared the only man that knew any sort of order to the apparent chaos. A busy, oil blackened hand pulled a cigarette away from a…
It’s actually the fourth time I’ve been here now and to the same hostel too. For the last month I’ve been working in the hostel, and I’ve had a taste at what it’s like to live here. I even managed to get out of my very first day of work after being sick in a…
I packed up early afternoon and began cycling through the hustle and bustle of Amsterdam, leaving the traffic, bikes and people behind, heading west on a quiet and straight cycle path towards the city of Haarlem. The rain was pelting down nearly the whole way so that by the time I had reached Haarlem, I…
From London, I took the train to Brugge, in North-east Belgium. The only noticeable change from the last time I was here being the sun to brighten up the dreary clock tower. Down a cobbled street, I found my way to the hostel I stayed at previously by passing the four windmills on the outskirts.…