Travelling the world is a severe duty that may be exhausting, but I am willing to take the load on my shoulders without complaints. Even before the Sweden summary is ready for posting, Hector stays behind (sulking for days) and I am up in the air on my way to Shiphol airport.
Linda picks me up and just shortly after our great hellos we arrive at her place. She lives in the most inviting apartment I have ever seen so close to a beach – and, as if known it all along, I smuggled in the sun for our long-planned weekend.
The evening is full of talking and laughing, including a beach restaurant with outside terrace and an open fireplace. For Saturday, she made up some ideas and time will tell that we are able to even over-fulfil all of our plans.
I wake up and watch the sunrise play colourful with the fog in the dunes, all laying at our feet in front of Linda’s large windows. First thing on our list is a yoga class where I follow Dutch instructions to all kinds of dog and warrior poses. After lingering through the heart of Zandvoort on our way back, we settle down on the balcony for lunch. In the afternoon, we take the bicycles into the dunes and look out for deer and funny dressed people, catching both.
We run down the sandy hill of our lookout with loud laughter and ride back home, meeting Else from Belgium for international dinner. The plans for the night are unbeatable: Mantra singing and barefoot dancing at the Spirit Dance party in Haarlem. I love to set my regular life aside for a while and try out different actions, especially when it is about dancing.
Thus, I am best in Linda’s company, proved once more tonight with all the fun of barefoot dancing in a crowd-funded and renovated historical building from former industrial eras.
After three hours dancing, jumping and playing, a cute guy says his goodbye to me with the most unexpected sentence: “Take care when farting with the cushions and pillows.” Äh…?! Here is what happens when loud music and unused accents come together: most probably he commented on the shared girl’s bed and referred to the men-like dream of women fighting with cushions and pillows. I am not sure if my reaction to this would have been better than the puzzled look I gave him, but nice to know that his original topic was of a more positive way than what I first heard.
After Saturday’s action, Sunday is immaculate for second breakfast in one of the beach cafés. Minute by minute the sun gets stronger and not long after the third coffee we lay down in the sand. Such cheerful weather by end of September is just perfect for a weekend at the sea and before lunch we dive into the refreshing water.
Sitting in the plane at night, I still feel sand between my toes and a wide smile on my face. All the heavy duty of a traveller’s life may be exhausting, but it definitely is worth every minute of this precious summer weekend – especially when sharing it with such a good friend.