Man, I hope you all are following the World Cup as fervently as I am. I nearly cried with happiness when Friedrich scored a goal during Germany’s game against Argentina – finally, my favourite defender gets some glory!!
But let’s get back to the matter at hand, shall we?
Amsterdam in the springtime, how picturesque!
My last day in Zeist started off with another amazing breakfast spread laid out by my aunt (freshly baked bread! delicious dutch cheese! copious amounts of hagel stolen from my cousin!) and a short bike ride to drop said cousin off at school (oh, how quaint!). Begrudgingly, I gathered the few things I’d packed back into my suitcase and got ready to head to the station. It’s always so hard to leave my aunt and uncle, their house, their neighborhood, their stories and food and long nights spent just sitting around with wine or tea talking about everything we’ve missed since we last saw each other.
But, as I was flying to London later that night from Schipol, I figured I might as well spend the day playing around Amsterdam. You know.
Bag safely stashed in a train station locker, I meandered in the general direction of the Jordaan and came across a huge flea market going on.
LPs and teacups, fur coats and postcards. I used to think about collecting old postcards from vintage markets around the world as souvenirs, but I have less and less of a desire to accumulate ‘stuff’ nowadays. ‘Stuff’ starts to get old after a while. ‘Stuff’ begins to weigh you down. ‘Stuff’ turns into ‘junk’ or ‘that box under the bed’ or ‘oh, I might want this someday.‘
I would much rather have the memories, which don’t take up any room in a bag….
…and, of course, the photos!