Running In The Hague
I’m staying in a 5 star hotel for the first time in my life and I’ve honestly found it really overbearing. I have a suite here in The Hague and I’m sitting here in the only corner I’ve warmed to like a traumatised rescue dog in it’s new forever family.
Just shit in the hall son.
I’m kinda uncomfortable with the level of service offered here. I was shown to my room by a nice man who wouldn’t stop asking how I was. I had half a packet of Dutch gummi bears hanging out of my pocket and felt like underclass scum so I just bit my lip as he showed me how the kettle worked.
I went for a run around the city and it seems really nice. I love the AA sports drink they have here. It’s a fucking taste sensation and I wish we could get it and the Stroopwafels in England as easily. I had a run in with some Dutch hoodlums as I was making my way back to the hotel. One of the gang started on me in Dutch and I didn’t respond as I only ask “do you speak English?” when I actually want something.
I don’t take abuse off any fuck in anything but English. Especially if I’m being called a KUNT in Dutch. They do it all the time here. You KUNT do this. You KUNT do that.
It’s good to get away from London for a little bit. The temptation to go on a mad European journey is always there but I’m gonna hold off and save up instead for the Land’s End to John O Groats run.