22:31: In the air. Back to London.
There was once a time when Saturdays meant dressing up, drinking a few too many drinks and going out out.
Fast forward a couple of years and I’m on a plane. Back from Amsterdam. Where I went for the day, no! Afternoon. No out out drinks have been consumed.
There is something so thrilling and refreshing in spending a day, no, afternoon, in a different city. Especially abroad.
Sure, there’s getting passed the urge to turn your alarm off and not get up at 5:30am on a Saturday at all.
But when you’re on your way, gazing out of the window and whisked away, there is a magic.
Wandering through 9 Streets, remembering to stay on track. Literally hopping on to the ferry as it pulls away for the opposite bank. Sampling your first taste of Dutch apple pie.
It’s dream like.
Perusing the Bloemenmarkt for tulip delights. Taking a minute at Anne Frank’s House. Watching the joy everyone gets from taking their pictures at the i Amsterdam sign - and a dog’s joy being thrown a frisbee in the middle.
While it takes spending some serious time on transport and in stations, it’s honestly forgotten when you step out.
Noticing the sun shimmering on the Amsterdam Centraal Station as you stop for five minutes at the top of the Amsterdam Lookout.
It gives you some space to think. To appreciate. And touch down at home with an inner smile.
“Who goes to Amsterdam for the day!?”
“Your youth is wasted.”
The saying is that “travel is the one thing you can buy that makes you richer.”
23:05 (22:05): We’re about to touch down in London. And I feel like a billionaire.
Where would you love to go for a day?