In two days, my road trip will end. I'm flying back to Sydney for the V Festival and will head for Bangkok not long after that. It's time to go home. When you start thinking: 'man, another tropical beach - what a bore!'; you know it's time. Some things have gotten easier, though. I know where everything is in my backpack now. It helps I lost a lot of stuff and threw some of it away.
I kind of like the morning hunt for coffee now. And the picknicks along the way. I know my list of questions when searching for a motel. I have grown accustomed to the motel soaps and shampoos. I know New Zealanders have no clue where the Netherlands are, but they do kind of know the area where Holland is. (They don't seem to be aware of their namesake, by the way.)
But I want my work back. I want my bed. I want to walk into a Albert Heyn. I want to drive on the right side of the road. I want my other shoes. I want to be able to pick up the phone. I want to be on a bike. I want to ride home from work and feel the cobble stones. I want a Dutch newspaper. I want bread and roti and fruit juice and cooked meals, even if I have to cook them myself.
Because otherwise I'll go crazy, eventually. Getting there already.
But man, am I lucky, or what?
In two days, my road trip will end. I'm flying back to Sydney for the V Festival and will head for Bangkok not long after that. It's time to go home. When you start thinking: 'man, another tropical beach - what a bore!'; you know it's time. Some things have gotten easier, though. I know where everything is in my backpack now. It helps I lost a lot of stuff and threw some of it away.
I kind of like the morning hunt for coffee now. And the picknicks along the way. I know my list of questions when searching for a motel. I have grown accustomed to the motel soaps and shampoos. I know New Zealanders have no clue where the Netherlands are, but they do kind of know the area where Holland is. (They don't seem to be aware of their namesake, by the way.)
But I want my work back. I want my bed. I want to walk into a Albert Heyn. I want to drive on the right side of the road. I want my other shoes. I want to be able to pick up the phone. I want to be on a bike. I want to ride home from work and feel the cobble stones. I want a Dutch newspaper. I want bread and roti and fruit juice and cooked meals, even if I have to cook them myself.
Because otherwise I'll go crazy, eventually. Getting there already.
But man, am I lucky, or what?
Huh?...Even when you have to cook yourself?... Thessa, what did this trip do to you? I think you mean by cooking just to put AH lasagna in the microwave, don't you?
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