High drama this morning. First, very little sleep as the hostel was full of selfish people taking thirty minute showers, banging doors, switching lights on. The Aussie girl also didn’t show up before 3am, so I hope she’s safe. I got up to watch England play Mexico. Watch first half in the hostel, second half on the train to the airport. England eke out a win. Delighted. Then I see my flight is cancelled.
KLM has no person to talk to. I make it to an earlier gate where a KLM flight goes to Amsterdam, but I have been automatically rebooked to go to Copenhagen, back to Amsterdam, onto Warsaw. The idea of this journey with no sleep is awful. Eventually I realise I can race to Amsterdam on the train. I am hoping to catch my original connection onto Warsaw. I will deal with KLM later. I didn’t see the opportunity to train to Schiphol before, otherwise I wouldn’t have bothered with the connecting flights. High drama indeed. Racing across Belgium as I write.
7.35am
Game over methinks. The train to Antwerp is going via Breda then bus to somewhere else before train to Schiphol. No chance of making that original flight I think. At least I am booked on another for this afternoon. I seem to recall this Breda bus situation when I visited Fritz a couple of years ago. Shite service.
10.37am
Am in a cafe in Amsterdam at Claudy’s recommendation. Not a grass cafe, but an apple pie one. I am writing this first then tasting it.
This is an unexpected visit due to traffic chaos preventing my train (or plane) getting to Schiphol on time. So rather than sitting on my ass in an airport, I thought I would pay another visit. I think this is my third time to Amsterdam*. The first was in the earlier diary. The second was with Bee. It was fun but very wet. Today it is warm. Thankfully the weather has not been punishingly hot yet. I hope it doesn’t get so.
So, Amsterdam for a few hours, what have you got for me?
Later:
In the end, Amsterdam did not offer much. In fairness, I was tired and I hadn’t planned to be there. Beyond the beauty of the city, I couldn’t think of anything I wanted to do there beyond sleep. Amsterdam is a bit of a theme park now. You wander around but there are so many tourists that it is overwhelming. It doesn’t feel like an operational city like Brussels or London are. Obviously unfair.
I took a wander around with my backpack and regretting not storing it somewhere. I don’t plan on repeating that mistake. I visited the red light district. My first visit was in wonderment. It was such an alien experience. This time, granted a Monday afternoon rather than a weekend evening, is sad and tired. Not that I was buying, but it had the feeling of a theme park ride that was closed and had people wandering around looking for the fun. Maybe it needs ‘opening hours’ to control expectations.
I gave up on the city and chose to get to Schiphol with plenty of time. There I killed a couple of hours with some beer and music. When I eventually get called to my plane my boarding pass has been cancelled. Apparently, because I didn’t fly to Copenhagen, they assume I wasn’t taking the journey. A human being called another human being and it was quickly solved.
The flight is a bit unpleasant. Very full and I am very tired. At the other end I catch an Uber to my hostel. It is a delightful room all to myself.
* it is my fourth visit. I forgot about this one.
