There She Goes
I'm here.
The plane ride was uneventful. Spent it journaling (I've taken up the paper journal again), reading trashy magazines, and knitting, interspersed with passing out from exhaustion. Twenty-four solid hours in transit after not sleeping one night and barely sleeping the night before has me almost to the point of hallucination. Almost no caffeine to pull me through, either. Passport control at Schiphol took forever, causing me to miss the train I'd intended to take, and when I finally got through and tried to buy my train ticket the machine kept prompting me for a pin before it would try to authorize my credit card. I figured out later what I was doing wrong, but at the time it was unbelievably frustrating. The good thing is that the Dutch train system is ridiculously well designed and labelled. By the time I'd waited in line at the ticket window and purchased my ticket with cash, I had three minutes to catch the next train to Eindhoven. At my connection in Duivendrecht I swallowed my fear of telephones and talking to strangers and, in the two minutes I had between trains, called my landlord (Carel) to tell him the new time I'd be arriving.
The Netherlands is beautiful. Obviously no earthquakes here, because absolutely everything, new or old, is made of brick. Brick and wrought iron. Fire escapes are spirals and those picturesque windmills really do exist (and still turn). All the train stations are obviously old, and absolutely gorgeous. The streets are narrow and cars are parked every which way, like in Italy.
It's raining here--gorgeous.
The house is cute and tiny and brick, right next to the campus so I can easily walk to work. Three stories with incredibly steep, winding staircases (my feet are too large--I've already nearly fallen down the stairs twice). The only housemate I've met so far is Lise, who has the room at the top of the house. The other three are boys.
The view down Locatellistraat from my window. The campus is basically right on the other side of that grassy stretch.
The back yard, as seen from my other window. Carel and his wife live in the other house.
It's been a long time since I slept. I'm going to crash for a few hours, then explore the neighborhood and buy some food.
The plane ride was uneventful. Spent it journaling (I've taken up the paper journal again), reading trashy magazines, and knitting, interspersed with passing out from exhaustion. Twenty-four solid hours in transit after not sleeping one night and barely sleeping the night before has me almost to the point of hallucination. Almost no caffeine to pull me through, either. Passport control at Schiphol took forever, causing me to miss the train I'd intended to take, and when I finally got through and tried to buy my train ticket the machine kept prompting me for a pin before it would try to authorize my credit card. I figured out later what I was doing wrong, but at the time it was unbelievably frustrating. The good thing is that the Dutch train system is ridiculously well designed and labelled. By the time I'd waited in line at the ticket window and purchased my ticket with cash, I had three minutes to catch the next train to Eindhoven. At my connection in Duivendrecht I swallowed my fear of telephones and talking to strangers and, in the two minutes I had between trains, called my landlord (Carel) to tell him the new time I'd be arriving.
The Netherlands is beautiful. Obviously no earthquakes here, because absolutely everything, new or old, is made of brick. Brick and wrought iron. Fire escapes are spirals and those picturesque windmills really do exist (and still turn). All the train stations are obviously old, and absolutely gorgeous. The streets are narrow and cars are parked every which way, like in Italy.It's raining here--gorgeous.
The house is cute and tiny and brick, right next to the campus so I can easily walk to work. Three stories with incredibly steep, winding staircases (my feet are too large--I've already nearly fallen down the stairs twice). The only housemate I've met so far is Lise, who has the room at the top of the house. The other three are boys.
The view down Locatellistraat from my window. The campus is basically right on the other side of that grassy stretch.
The back yard, as seen from my other window. Carel and his wife live in the other house.
It's been a long time since I slept. I'm going to crash for a few hours, then explore the neighborhood and buy some food.
posted by Iris at 13:46
1 Comments:
I've been stuck in the woods so long I might forget what it's like to travel. As stuck places go, these woods are lovely, dark and deep... but slow. A trip to town for groceries is a big event. It's good to get the memory back, from reading your travels, of that mixture of exhilaration and fear when exploring a new place. Every time I've traveled, there has been a point when I would rather not leave home, but also a point when I'd rather not return. Enjoy!
Love, Aunt Kassy
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