Thursday:
Jen got up, moaning and groaning, I packed before bed. Philip arrived at 10am promptly to take us on the 1.5hr drive to Stansted for our flight to Amsterdam. It was the most difficult drive yet as both Jen and I were doing our best not to puke and after 4 glasses of water, 2 juice boxes and a cup of earl grey, I was peeing every 30 minutes.
Arriving at the airport, all announcements made in like 5 different languages, we finally figured out the system and made it through security. Laying down on the benches at the gate, we took a breather, drank some lucozade and waited to our short 40 minute flight to Amsterdam.
We arrived only to find that after 3 hours of sleep, no food, and a splitting headache, we had to walk a mile to get to baggage claim. We finally made it to collect our bags and head thru customs. Sophia and Tigo were waiting on the other side with big smiles and they drove us deep into the old city. Tigo went ballistic on the way and I had to switch to driver. After a week in England, I could hardly drive correctly back on the right side of the road. We parked and walked to get some soup with our bags in hand. We then headed back to the apartment on Oudeschans to climb six flights of stairs with my pack strapped to my back and Jen's bag in my arms, to the top floor apt with beam piqued roof views of the city that won't quit.
Friday:
I have internet access, a stereo, and next... who knows!
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3 comments:
"Tigo went ballistic on the way and I had to switch to driver."
Care to elaborate? :)
Tigo is a 1y.o. that I was feeding in back seat. Sophia had to get back there to keep him from crying and I had to drive thru Old Amsterdam.
Phew. I was imagining an adult losing his mind.
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