Have you ever seen the Disney cartoon Mulan? Where the heroine decides to join the Chinese army in place of her father, masquerading as a man? I feel a little like she might on her first day, waking up before boot camp begins. "Day...One."
My bags are packed, my blackberry is back in New York, and it took me way longer than it should have to figure out the captain was speaking dutch and that I wasn't simply unable to comprehend my native language.
I'm almost off the map, baby. I've turned off the spiggot of my life. And now its just about taking it as it comes - straight up, on the rocks.
Our first overnight flight is behind us and we will soon wait for the second in the Amsterdam airport for about 9 hours. I fared pretty well, thanks to my right hand man, Tylenol PM. Scott, who is wearing that sleep-deprived, wide-eye swim goggles look, not so much. Getting ready for landing, we are heading into one of those pocky, perturbing patches of turbulence that, when strong enough to send a massive jetliner skating erratically on atmospheric ice, often leaves you gripped and negotiating with God for more than a few seconds. And after you hit clear, open air once again on the other side, you feel like the idiot who hit the deck in a nice restaurant at the sound of a champagne bottle popping close by. Especially judging from the undisturbed eyemasks of the frequent international passengers around you. Hehe - why no, I was certainly not terrified for my life just then (teeth could cut a dinner plate). Sinking lower in my chair...
But the sun is up (although wearing very gray, wet clothes) and the day is in full swing in Amsterdam. Never have I had such an appreciation for having a partner along on a well-planned wandering off like this trip (and we are about to wander quite far)--especially a partner of such patience and brevity in times of squalor. Without him, I might have talked myself convincingly out of this at the gate, or worse yet, slept through all of my free meals on the plane. This morning, I have decided that there is truly no one better to have along in a prickly patch than Scott. And I get the feeling things are about to get prickly. That is of course if I live through this next microcell on our way in for a landing.
Ha, Scott once got us lost in Paris. You should have seen him -- weeping like a babe as midnight crept closer. But I held him together . . .
ReplyDeleteOr at least that's how I remember it.
It sounds like your adventure is off to a very human start. Keep posting when you can. Aim and I read jealously.