Coming Face to Face with the Free-Willing Nature of Europe
It is sometimes shocking that sometimes, a single bus ride can leave a lasting impression that can hardly be ever changed. The situation is just long enough for certain views to be formed, but at the same time short enough for the views to be highly generalized stereotypes, most often confirming previously held second-hand impressions and stories. Yet, even as the traveler is typing away on his laptop on the hard ground of Brussels Central Train Station, at a savagely unmitigated 3-degrees-Celsius wind at 6:30am, somehow the impressions just stick in the mind more than anything else.
For some reason, a quiet midnight journey on the cross-Channel ferry from Dover to Calais, tonight, was turned into a madly drunk 3-hour party by a horde of British and French high school students, nominally on some sort of school trip, but with no obvious parental or teacher supervision, seemed to be bent on spreading their notoriety far and wide on the Continent. From the second we the passengers got on the service deck (lounge above the parking for the buses) of the ferry, screaming and shouting echoing full volume across the entirety of the boat did not stop until the kids got back on their own buses on the French side.
The excess energy was well-justified. Somehow the kids collectively managed to bring from their bus 24-packs after 24-packs of unopened beer, and without any hesitation, began opening the cans at the lounge and chugging them, to the absolute amusement of the other passengers. Amazingly enough, the ferry staff, walking around at regular intervals, simply walked by the quickly inebriating kids several times, saying absolutely nothing to the fact that they are dirtying the floor with spilled alcohol, and perhaps, just perhaps, disturbing other passengers with their, eh, boisterousness.
If anything, the ferry herself actually did much to contribute to the well-maintained inebriation of the students. In the middle of the service deck, surrounded by seats and couches for resting passengers, was the biggest duty-free shop I have ever seen outside an airport. The area of the shop, literally, covered more than one-third of the total area of the deck that, by my estimates, could comfortably accommodate 500 people without any feeling of claustrophobia.
And, a full third of the duty-free shop, similar to what is usually found in airport duty-free shops, was a full range of alcohol, especially hard liquor, on sale for something around 8 pounds a bottle. The kids certainly did not pass up the bargain. As soon as the shop opened its doors upon exiting Dover port, the kids began snapping up the bottles, quickly piling up a small mountain of glass bottles in heir arms. Handing in stacks of cash quite abnormal for wallets of 18-year-olds, the kids directly took the bottles to their beer holdings, and their own moving bar on a boat was in operation.
Two-and-a-half hours later, as the boat approached the French coast, I watched the ferry staff moving about the boat collecting empty glass bottles. The dismayed staff dug up empty bottles after empty bottles of high-quality duty-free gin and vodka behind seats, trying to appear rather nonchalant about just how much a bunch of high school students added to the revenue of the ferry. As the kids exited the service deck and returned to their buses, each still had three or four bottles of unopened hard liquor “saved” in large plastic bags, perhaps for the last two or three hours of bus ride to their final destination on the Continent.
Watching situation such as this unfold in front of my eyes is a cause of reflection rather than straightforward condemnation. While people like my Indian co-passenger on the bus watched the scene in absolute horror, for most of the people on the boat, whether staff or passengers, the reaction was little more than slight, but also bemused annoyance. They still went about their own things, letting the kids handle their own affairs and enjoy their trip. I doubt that the other passengers can be described as “quietly angered” or “begrudgingly tolerant.”
Instead, it somehow seems to me that there is an air of genuine acceptance, not because it is happening outside their control, but rather, because it is not perceived as any problem. And it could be a bit inappropriate description, but calling such acceptance the basis of a certain European “free-willing nature,” may be suitable. After all, it is culture, rather than some man-made and enforced legal code, which ultimately determines the right and wrong.
For some reason, a quiet midnight journey on the cross-Channel ferry from Dover to Calais, tonight, was turned into a madly drunk 3-hour party by a horde of British and French high school students, nominally on some sort of school trip, but with no obvious parental or teacher supervision, seemed to be bent on spreading their notoriety far and wide on the Continent. From the second we the passengers got on the service deck (lounge above the parking for the buses) of the ferry, screaming and shouting echoing full volume across the entirety of the boat did not stop until the kids got back on their own buses on the French side.
The excess energy was well-justified. Somehow the kids collectively managed to bring from their bus 24-packs after 24-packs of unopened beer, and without any hesitation, began opening the cans at the lounge and chugging them, to the absolute amusement of the other passengers. Amazingly enough, the ferry staff, walking around at regular intervals, simply walked by the quickly inebriating kids several times, saying absolutely nothing to the fact that they are dirtying the floor with spilled alcohol, and perhaps, just perhaps, disturbing other passengers with their, eh, boisterousness.
If anything, the ferry herself actually did much to contribute to the well-maintained inebriation of the students. In the middle of the service deck, surrounded by seats and couches for resting passengers, was the biggest duty-free shop I have ever seen outside an airport. The area of the shop, literally, covered more than one-third of the total area of the deck that, by my estimates, could comfortably accommodate 500 people without any feeling of claustrophobia.
And, a full third of the duty-free shop, similar to what is usually found in airport duty-free shops, was a full range of alcohol, especially hard liquor, on sale for something around 8 pounds a bottle. The kids certainly did not pass up the bargain. As soon as the shop opened its doors upon exiting Dover port, the kids began snapping up the bottles, quickly piling up a small mountain of glass bottles in heir arms. Handing in stacks of cash quite abnormal for wallets of 18-year-olds, the kids directly took the bottles to their beer holdings, and their own moving bar on a boat was in operation.
Two-and-a-half hours later, as the boat approached the French coast, I watched the ferry staff moving about the boat collecting empty glass bottles. The dismayed staff dug up empty bottles after empty bottles of high-quality duty-free gin and vodka behind seats, trying to appear rather nonchalant about just how much a bunch of high school students added to the revenue of the ferry. As the kids exited the service deck and returned to their buses, each still had three or four bottles of unopened hard liquor “saved” in large plastic bags, perhaps for the last two or three hours of bus ride to their final destination on the Continent.
Watching situation such as this unfold in front of my eyes is a cause of reflection rather than straightforward condemnation. While people like my Indian co-passenger on the bus watched the scene in absolute horror, for most of the people on the boat, whether staff or passengers, the reaction was little more than slight, but also bemused annoyance. They still went about their own things, letting the kids handle their own affairs and enjoy their trip. I doubt that the other passengers can be described as “quietly angered” or “begrudgingly tolerant.”
Instead, it somehow seems to me that there is an air of genuine acceptance, not because it is happening outside their control, but rather, because it is not perceived as any problem. And it could be a bit inappropriate description, but calling such acceptance the basis of a certain European “free-willing nature,” may be suitable. After all, it is culture, rather than some man-made and enforced legal code, which ultimately determines the right and wrong.
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