Tag Archives: emily dickenson

Ring the Bells

Friday, October 29th. 2010

I stepped out of Centraal Station today and I remembered all of it. The smell, the light, the buildings, the hot dog stand, all of it. 18 years ago I stepped onto the same sidewalk with the exact same look on my face, I’m sure. Let the bells of the Westerkerk ring. I have arrived. Hello, Amsterdam. I’ve missed you.

Westerkerk Church, Amsterdam

I am sitting in a cafe the name of which I won’t pretend I can pronounce, with my half pint of Amstel and a steaming dish of hutspot meht klapstuk. You can google that for your fun foodie fact. I am delirious from exhaustion. Spent a little time in Iceland this morning. So strange for it to be 8:30am and pitch dark. Met a nice guy on the plane from Boston and we made the last 20 hours together our own adventure. I’m ready to jettison everything but my purse, steal a bike, and ride hooting and hollering with glee down the little path along the canals.¬† My friends left before I arrived, so the neighbor let me into their apartment which is just a few doors down from Anne Frank’s attic, to find that they had left maps and museum passes and internet access. Home sweet home for the next 3 days. I’ll wander some. Find some art. Maybe find a job. Maybe find my wits. Maybe make a plan. Maybe not.

Until Berlin.