Guess who spent eight hours in Amsterdam alone?
This actually happened last weekend, but I have had a crazy, full week of activities so I haven’t gotten around to posting. While I love London to the extent that I don’t mind staying here all the time, I did feel weird about not having traveled (with the exception of Scotland) during my whole time here. I knew I couldn’t make it to Berlin so I decided on Amsterdam.
For £50, I took a 12-hour bus journey to the Netherlands and let me tell you…it was one of the worst experiences of my life. Between the man next to me that had BO, the couple opposite me who were constantly making out or eating sour cream & onion Pringles, and the seasickness from the unprecedented ferry ride, I definitely had an emotional breakdown at 3:00 in the morning. I didn’t know what to expect from the journey, but that certainly wasn’t it. Let’s just say I was more prepared for the ride home.
When I finally arrived in Amsterdam, I had a minor panic about everything being in Dutch and not being able to pronounce anything in the event that I needed that information. But once I got to Centraal Station, everything was okay. I spent most of the day just walking around because I forgot free museums were only a UK thing and didn’t budget for it. Not to mention, the Anne Frank House, my main attraction, was impossible to see with the short time that I was there so the only thing I did was visit the Torture Museum and the I amsterdam sign.
Continue reading “Pass That Dutch”
Returning to London was equally everything I imagined and nothing I imagined. I thought once I boarded the tube from Heathrow, I would feel this sense of nostalgia and that I would be even more overwhelmed with emotion once I rose above ground. However, I didn’t feel anything at all. Aside from the stress I inflict upon myself to make sure all the T’s are crossed and all the I’s are dotted, I see now that I didn’t feel nostalgia because it still feels so familiar. Even as I type this, it doesn’t really feel like I’m here. It’s a recognizably different feeling than any other because I feel like I’m somewhere between fantasy and reality. The amount of memories I made here last year in a short span of four months makes me feel both attached and detached because it’s not my home, but it feels like it is. Granted, I’ve been preoccupied with many, many other things to really stop and smell the roses, but in the quiet moments of walking through the streets, it feels like I belong. I’m so glad to be back 🙂 
Lex in the City 