When life throws you lemons…
I wait for the hotel shuttle. Wander through the great depths of Schiphol. Linger in the enormous queue for security. My irritation level elevated quickly, thinking I’d have no time for a bite and a Heineken Then there’s that glorious moment when you’ve passed security and realize there are no further obstacles to conquer! Ahhh, the luxury of the EU. Et voila! Tournez à gauche et il y a le champagne bar.
I’d be lying if I said that my unexpected missed connection (sans one cute french husband) was an abhorrent nightmare. An inconvenience, yes. But not an abhorrence.
After what was a long trip in Buenos Aires, followed by an especially challenging week at home, followed by a long holiday weekend with friends, my slight overnight derailment in Amsterdam doubled as a long overdue mini-adventure for myself and my Envizage. Don’t get me wrong, I miss my husband dearly but somehow I think his business class flight home last night without me, without work, or any kids was mildly appreciated “at the end of the day”. My husband thinks there is no french equivalent for “at the end of the day”, but I think we all get the gist. I couldn’t help but embrace this derailment in the most positive of terms: by getting him securely home, finding my way to a quasi-Pulitzer Hotel site inspection, slash, coffee-shop pop-in à Amsterdam with a Toulouse flight home le prochain après-midi.
Given all my unexpected excitement, I mustn’t fail to mention the wee beautiful discovery that led to this derailment: Edinburgh with my illustrious husband. Aye! What a lovely little city that was! (yes insert Scottish accent there) They weren’t as hard to understand as I originally suspected, and the genuine jubilance emanated by the Scottish people was truly a delight! Alongside our wonderful french amis, we toured the museum, gardens and castle; ate haggis and drank scotch whiskey. We indulged a ghost fettish and joined the late night Day of the Double Dead tour . And leave it to me, who found a delicious Mexican called Wahaca which conveniently has shops in Manchester, Leeds and London! . Sadly, we saw no sheep. As is usual for moi et mon amour de mari, the weather could not have been better. We relished in clear sea views and 27 degrees with cool breezes… practically unheard of in Edinburgh, so I’m told.
On departure day from Scotland, fortunately I packed our workout gear in my carry-on. Despite the Ibis Hotel facial/body/shampoo bubbles shower, j’etait prêt et frais… on my way home! Just one flight and an airport-baggage-plea standing between me and the Tisséo airport tram to home! Home to four french kids, tutors and mon mal de gorge!
It’s been a while since I got derailed on my own time. Without having to worry about french kids, someone’s boss or any real obligation to anyone else! Though I wouldn’t change anything in the world, it reminds of the good ol’ days and suddenly I urge for Positively 4th Street to blare on my B&Os.
Yesterday in Amsterdam was phenomenal. I’ve never seen it in 27 degree heat, bold sunshine, and with an American holiday buffering my normal sense of obligation. It felt nice. My ever-incredible husband unwaveringly appeased my suggestion to taxi into the Red Light District for just an hour of Dutch Asian noodles, before his miracle ‘last-seat’ flight home. Thanks to his amazing travel-agent wife life could go-on ‘as normal’ for him yesterday. I totally sacrificed! 1) a night in Amsterdam on my own in a hotel, versus 2) home with spin class, four kids, laundry, a tutor, and préparation de la repas. Pizza for dinner!
And even more unexpectedly now, I pack up for an impulsive tryst à Dubai! When Kirkie calls, we answer!
Our Scottish whiskey experience!
And so it goes…
