Europe 28.06.15

Sunday the 28th of June

The previous day’s rest had reinvigorated me enough to allow for one last day of adventures overseas. Oma Rita and her boyfriend Jaap took me to Katwijk for lunch at a sand swept cafe appropriately called The Strand that was situated on the beach overlooking the horizon. Katwijk was an interesting place as its coastline dunes had recently been excavated for flood protection, then replaced atop this tidal barrier causing the land level to rise. Oma explained that the landscape we now saw had changed dramatically due to this necessary renovation, but thankfully, it did not hinder the beautiful view. My last meal overseas was a portion of bitterballen and a fresh mint tea. It seemed to taste better with the idea in mind that I would not have the privilege to taste dutch cuisine for the foreseeable future. If only those eight bitesized pieces could have lasted me a lifetime.

There is no more appropriate place to drink cocktails for hours on end alone than in an airport. I did, after all, have to prepare myself for the days I would be wasting in transit. I had a blonde moment earlier today. I thought (for who knows what silly reason) I would be flying to Abu Dhabi for a short stopover and then home to Sydney but I have since realised I had my destinations confused – instead I will be flying via Kuala Lumpur where I will have to wait for five gruelling hours.

FLIGHT. DELAYED.

An increase of even half an hour feels like an eternity. After four hours in an airport, twelve in a plane, another six in another airport and with no phone, no laptop, no stupid Kualar-Lumpian (I know its Malaysian, whatever) charger to charge my battery-dead devices to take up time! I have resorted to the slow and gruelling torture of writing pen to [print-out-of-insurance-sheet] paper that only brings back grim memories of the higher school certificate #toosoon. But at least I still have my imagination – and a backstory to go with it.

*** FLASHBACK to SICKNESS SATURDAY***

It was late afternoon and Oma Rita had taken a short leave to do some errands, yet I had only just woken up so decided to get ready for her return. A quick shower and I began to pack my suitcase in anticipation of home, but not before I had wrestled through my travel papers to discover the time of my flight. My papers were roughed up and scrappy but they had made it through the journey in one piece. I went to separate my flight details from the remaining useless pages, but – I had sliced the pinky finger of my right hand open from the inside of the joint using the binding clip! Could I see the bone? The wound was flooded with blood. I did not cry. I did not scream. I (only just) did not faint. Since then, my finger has not yet healed so often it still bleeds through the bandaid. Just before, the bandaid slipped off revealing an impressive hole under my knuckle that, with two dots above its opening, looks like a very sad or screaming face. But I don’t even have a device with which to take a picture! I promise it would be worth a laugh could you see it yourself.

THIS. FLIGHT. IS. EMPTY.

FUCK YES!

I am going to sleep so hard!

Arrive to Schiphol Airport Amsterdam: 5:00pmUTC+2
Departure Time: 8:45pmUTC+2
Arrival in Kuala Lumpur: 9:00amUTC+2 3:00pmUTC+8
Departure Time: 8:30pmUTC+8
Arrival Time: 4:30amUTC+8 6:30amUTC+10

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