Packing
My mind acts as its own food for thought… as I pack my bags, I simultaneously am excited / stressed feeling the dosed adrenaline flowing through my veins, and also relaxed as always letting the world come to me as I go. At an academic level, I know that this journey will offer me a full image of the world of design and how it is put to life in practice in one of the most active design capitals of the southern hemisphere, Melbourne-Australia. At a cultural level though, I am slightly crawling back into my comfortable shell of a home, knowing that I will be surrounded once again by an English speaking environment, and yet besides having visited the country and experienced the company of few Australians, I am also throwing myself in an unknown abyss of a situation, leaving my known home and continent… all alone. On an entirely personal level however, I am doing one of the most natural things many individuals only dream of, and that is giving myself a fresh start, clean slate, an illusion of starting a new life, except this time round I have the opportunity to detect the holes in the road I’m walking on.
As usual, I pack 3 times more than the average human being, and instead of reducing the amount and weight of it, I look for possibilities of transporting the luggage using a cheaper alternative method than having to pay 54 Euros per extra kilo on the Malaysia Airlines flight over Kuala Lumpur. After a bit of research and auto-contemplation, I come to the conclusion that I still have the opportunity to figure this out once I get to my brother’s place in Amsterdam.
Eventually, I leave the house about 6 hours later than I had wanted, 10 hours later than I had planned, resulting in a change of plans to meet and dine with my beloved counterpart Ilse and her sister Evelien in Amsterdam, as I had already delayed Evelien being back home on time. Encountered by a gift, a letter and a farewell halfway to Amsterdam, Ilse and I step onto the connecting train at Utrecht Centraal.
Arriving at Guy and his beloved counterpart Evelien’s apartment, I nearly faint from my session of malnutrition ever since the wonderful surprise farewell breakfast (at the Holiday Inn in Eindhoven) I had received from Ilse’s parents this morning (not to mention the Casio World-time watch and a letter in the form of a poem I had also received from my Ilse). And whilst I try to suppress my shaky hands and tendency to just fall of my chair during the amazingly tasty dinner prepared by my potential sister-in-law, Guy discusses the possibilities of luggage transport over an international call with my father whilst simultaneously browsing the net for answers. After approximately an hour of word-exchange, the only most simple, most convenient, concluding answer is to minimize my luggage to one third of the current weight. With the help of 2 experts in luggage minimization, Guy and Ilse, I even spare a mere 3 kilos from hitting the maximum allowed airline check-in amount, 20kg.
Exhausted and still mind-boggled, I dive into the Bordeaux-red Ikea futon-bed with my beautiful girlfriend.
As usual, I pack 3 times more than the average human being, and instead of reducing the amount and weight of it, I look for possibilities of transporting the luggage using a cheaper alternative method than having to pay 54 Euros per extra kilo on the Malaysia Airlines flight over Kuala Lumpur. After a bit of research and auto-contemplation, I come to the conclusion that I still have the opportunity to figure this out once I get to my brother’s place in Amsterdam.
Eventually, I leave the house about 6 hours later than I had wanted, 10 hours later than I had planned, resulting in a change of plans to meet and dine with my beloved counterpart Ilse and her sister Evelien in Amsterdam, as I had already delayed Evelien being back home on time. Encountered by a gift, a letter and a farewell halfway to Amsterdam, Ilse and I step onto the connecting train at Utrecht Centraal.
Arriving at Guy and his beloved counterpart Evelien’s apartment, I nearly faint from my session of malnutrition ever since the wonderful surprise farewell breakfast (at the Holiday Inn in Eindhoven) I had received from Ilse’s parents this morning (not to mention the Casio World-time watch and a letter in the form of a poem I had also received from my Ilse). And whilst I try to suppress my shaky hands and tendency to just fall of my chair during the amazingly tasty dinner prepared by my potential sister-in-law, Guy discusses the possibilities of luggage transport over an international call with my father whilst simultaneously browsing the net for answers. After approximately an hour of word-exchange, the only most simple, most convenient, concluding answer is to minimize my luggage to one third of the current weight. With the help of 2 experts in luggage minimization, Guy and Ilse, I even spare a mere 3 kilos from hitting the maximum allowed airline check-in amount, 20kg.
Exhausted and still mind-boggled, I dive into the Bordeaux-red Ikea futon-bed with my beautiful girlfriend.
posted by Yves at
03:33
1 Comments:
haha.. en nog eens haha..
grappig om te lezen... je moet echt schrijver worden jij ja..je kan zo lyrisch (goede woord toch?) schrijven...
6 and 10 hours too late... malnutrition... pack 3 times more than average...hmmmm yves... maar goed dat ik er donderdagochtend bij was, anders was je vast door het toch nog bijladen van je rugzak, en erna door het gehaast het ontbijt vergeten, nét telaat gekomen voor het vliegtuig.. :p:p hmm.. jammer dát ik er dan bij was.. ander zat je misschien nu nog lekker in Nederland door het missen van je vliegtuig ;P;P
Tis trouwens wel goed zo'n comment-blokje ja.. kan ik hier lekker mijn 'commentjes' neertypen allemaal.. huj!
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