Coming Home

Coming Home

    Ahh, there is nothing like it, is there?  As fascinating and relaxing and enjoyable a trip or vacation can be, there's a point where you're simply ready to return, to sleep in your own bed, to see your animals and friends and family, to take care of bills and work off some weight, to get back into a routine.  And it is often that little stretch back that is the longest...you're tired, you're anxious, and you're ready to be there.  But that is when all the glitches seem to happen...

Outside one of the shops

    For us, our grand adventure culminated in Amsterdam and we basically had just 8 hours to explore;  and as we discovered, it simply wasn't enough.  But we certainly tried, walking nearly six miles in a grand loop, from the nearby museum district to the Van Gogh to meet friends (they said the museum was packed but well worth the visit), down to Central Station to eat at the Biblioteque restaurant (fantastic and recommended to us by an eccentric but wonderful English character who had been an Amsterdam resident for 30 years), a quick walk through the must-see Red Light District (which, to us, was rather sad and anything but a must-see), past dozens of unique and eclectic shops and bakeries and clubs, do some shopping in a market (which is where the Felix cat food shown in the last post was spotted) and into a "coffeeshop" to try some of Amsterdam's legal smoke.

The flower mart where tulip bulbs are 50 for 5 euro

    Now for us, all of this was quite new, sort of those things you read about in guide books and other blogs and yet wonder, what is the city really like?  First observation for us was how safe and walkable the city was (although, it's built a bit like an octagon so it's rather easy to get turned around unless you have a map app on your phone).  The canals are truly everywhere, with some quite small and easily crossed over (at a certain point, you simply forget them and treat them much like another street crossing); but benches and parks dot the city throughout, the trams run continuously (people riding the trams were quite friendly and sympathetic to you being lost, quickly guiding you back onto the right path and direction), and the stores all welcoming and quick to help you (at least, that is what we discovered).  It's a vibrant city, one where the more you walked the more comfortable you felt.  A new, almost lyrical language now surrounded you, and the smell of marijuana was so slight as to prove to be a rare occurrence (which broke our stereotype of possibly walking around a drugged-out city).  The architecture again proved a mix of Moorish domes and sharp Germanic lines, the train system once again highly organized and easy to decipher, and the city itself virtually trash- and graffiti-free. 

    Much of this you can read on travel sites and such; but as you're well aware, it is only when you actually arrive somewhere that your apprehensions accelerate a bit.  You don't know the language (although a majority of people in Amsterdam speak at least three and often four or more languages), the food is a bit different (but quite tasty) and the train system seems threatening (even if hundreds of people are getting on and off it at each stop).  It's what happens in any new foreign city.  At times, the night lights coupled with darkened streets can be frightening and make you feel a bit like a lost dog.  But what we've found is that simply "sucking it up," as they say, and stepping outside for a good walk gets you started; and before long, your curiosity starts to take over and your innocent questioning piques the interest of those you're asking and soon, you rather enjoy being treated a bit like a child and having your hand held.  It's similar to what a teacher of Spanish (as a second language) told us, seeing our scared and timid usage of what we had "learned;"  put yourself in someone else's shoes, she said. "When someone walks up to you and can't quite correctly say the English words, do you laugh at them and make fun of them? NO, you empathize with them and try to help them...you relate to them and recognize that they are trying, which is exactly how you'll be received." 

Pre-rolled sample, 2.5 euro

    Sage advice, no matter where you are..just try.  Say a few words, visit a few shops, ask for help.  Like us, you may be pleasantly surprised at how much more enjoyable it'll make your trip (we found this even at the marijuana "coffeeshop" where the owner seemed tickled that two "seniors" were now acting like two kids who had snuck into their dad's closet and stolen a cigarette..."you just want to see?," he asked and then proceeded to give us a quick showing of his "best" stuff).

    But coming home, my, what a thrill.  Even with the jet lag and the wonderful memories, we were so happy to stagger back in, have a overly-excited welcome-home greeting from our animals, unpack the bags, stare at all the laundry and mail and bills that awaited us, shrugged at the empty fridge and promptly went to bed.  What a luxurious feeling.  What was ironic was the news that my mother had taken another fall, this one a bit more serious and one that was now forcing her to give up her "home" and move to a more assisted type of living.  At some point --whether from an accident or a health issue or an income issue or a political issue-- people no longer have a home to return to, it makes you ever more grateful to snuggle back into your "own" bed.  It was a time to ponder just how lucky I was to even have a home to come back to.  For my mom, for the many refugees and migrants, for the many stuck in hospitals and nursing homes, for the many out on the streets, my life and home would seem to them to be a dream...I needed to treat it as such, which I do.  Easy to forget, easy to remember...sometimes one's travels does that, just makes you appreciate what you have.