Amsterdam, April 29, 2013
I organize my backpack and take things off my list. Outside people are partying on the streets. Dancing, drinking, singing, and more.
A contrast to where I just came from. A sleepy village in Belgium. A family get-together. Early mornings and calm evenings with cheeky toddlers running around, and enjoying themselves. Playing with their favorite toys: cars, trains, brothers, sisters, and parents. Or whatever they can find.
Partying. Playing for adults. What would the world be like if adults would still be able to play like kids?
I look outside and see a middle aged man with a beer tube from his head to his mouth. His favorite toy.
The cat is sleeping on my backpack. For the moment it is hers.
A new move soon. I hold my breath. Exactly seven days and I will be only a couple of hours away from a new reunion. Again. The countdown.
Next week I will be a traveler again. A drifter, on my way to see different roads. Tomorrow I will still be home. One week for my loved ones.
And one more for the road.