Traveling back to the Netherlands

Today I have to go back home. My suitcase is packed, and I check all cabinets and drawerd one more time to be certain I didn't forget anything. Then I proceed to check-out. I'm not looking forward to that, because I doubt whether they got the message the invoice should be sent to Ordina, instead of me paying it myself. Just to be sure I kept a creditcard apart with sufficient limit left to pay the bill.

Once I get to the reception it turns out my fears were correct. In their way they know nothing about that invoice-agreement and they want me to pay. I'm arguing about it but since that doesn't help I decide to pay and try to view it as a good lesson learnt. The receptionists behave like someone with the IQ of a banana with the flu and I don't know enough italian to do anything about it. Fortunately I got an extra dividend last week that matches this bill. At least it doesn't have any financial consequences for me.

Still, I'm very angry with those receptionists (although I realize they can't help it having only 1 brain cell) and decide to not let them dial a taxi, but to walk to the Holiday Inn. There's always a whole bunch of taxis there. And I'm right, I get a taxi that takes me to the airport. During the ride I try to calm myself down. Just take into account next time the hotel doesn't know how to deal with invoices I tell myself. At the airport I check in and go through security. Ferry warned me there could be huge line at Italian security, but right now it's very quiet. At least this part of the trip is going okay. I take a last capuccino and go to the changed gate.

Now I get to the boring part of the story: everything now proceeds according to plan. The plane leaves right on time, we have a good flight and land on Schiphol airport fifteen minutes ahead of schedule. Wen I'm at luggage reclaim I dial my Mommy. She'll want to know that I landed okay. I like hearing her voice and reluctantly hang up when the conveyor belt starts moving. All in all I have my suitcase back within fifteen minutes. I buy a train ticket and something to eat and drink in the train.

Boarding the train, I run in to dutch manners. Obviously I have to get used to that again after five weeks of Rome. I try to get my suitcase into the luggage rack, but fail since the suitcase is too heavy. Three men are around and they all three have an "i-don't-want-to-be-involved" expression on their faces. I decide to ask one of them. He does not appear to feel like helping me, but when I ask him politely he doesn't want to say no either.

Once we arrive at the end station I get up and a gentleman who got on in Amersfoort offers me to help me with my suitcase. Appararently they still exist, real gentlemen!

I take a taxi home and notice I didn't miss anything here. Once I'm home I put my feet up, turn on the telly and try to get used to being home.....