Amsterdam. AMSTERDAM!!! Who’d have thought I could make it to Amsterdam? Not me. For about two days before going I was sick with fear and severely depressed. I seriously doubted that I would be able to cope. I was going to have to share a ferry cabin with my friends. They know about my OCD but I don’t think they really understand. We were travelling overnight so I would have to sleep in a bed that other people had slept in and use a shower and toilet that other people had used. When it came to it, those things didn’t bother me that much. My OCD didn’t go away, but away from home, away from my usual routine, it did lessen. We arrived at the Hook of Holland in the morning and then went on to Amsterdam by train, which took around two hours. On arrival we headed straight for the Rijksmuseum and spent some time there, mostly looking at paintings by Rembrandt, Vermeer, and the few they had by Van Gogh.There were a lot of things we didn’t have time for. We then went for lunch in a nearby vegan restaurant before moving on to the Van Gogh Museum, which was marvellous (The Potato Eaters! I’ve seen The Potato Eaters! and Wheatfield with Crows! and…and…so many others!). We had intended to spend some time looking around the city afterwards, but having stayed in the Van Gogh Museum till closing time, we had to get the tram straight back to Amsterdam Central, where things nearly went disastrously wrong. I lost my friends in the station and my phone wasn’t working so I was unable to contact them. I knew we had to change at Rotterdam, so, panic-stricken and furious, I somehow managed to find my way to the next train going there. There was no sign of my friends so I decided that the only thing I could do was make my way back on my own and hope that they would do the same. At Rotterdam, still panic-stricken and furious, I found a train to the Hook of Holland, arriving there about half an hour before final boarding time. I boarded the ferry and made my way straight to our cabin. My friends weren’t there and by that time I feared they must still be in Amsterdam and the ship would sail without them. Around twenty minutes later they finally turned up.We all needed a drink after that.
So here I am back in brutish, reactionary, philistine England. I wish I could have stayed in Amsterdam for longer, there’s so much more to see there, and it’s so… civilized. Obviously the next step up is to go somewhere and stay for a few days. That’s daunting but I think, now, that I could do it. It would be easier if I could have a room to myself in a nice hotel, but I think my friends might balk at the extra expense that would entail.