Perhaps one bag was not such a great idea as pride in the achievement lead your correspondent to forget to weigh the bag and thus get slapped with a heavy bag charge. The journey continues.
Minneapolis. The hour long flight from home to here was continuously punctuated by rapid-fire, staccato kicks let loose by a child one row back. Space was restricted by a larger gentleman in the aisle seat. Fortunately, good books provide refuge from the most irritating of life’s little problems.
Flight attendants for an oversold Paris flight just offered $1000 travel vouchers or $850 Amazon gift cards for those who volunteer to leave tomorrow. The collective intake of breath seemed to change the air pressure in the terminal for a brief moment.
The train from the Amsterdam airport to The Hague runs every 15 min, nearly on the dot. The train glides along and offers wonderful views of Holland. The countryside is a sea of green fields punctuated occasionally by rows of trees. Cows amble around in the sun, grazing at their methodical, continuous pace. Flocks of sheep sleep in the shade of large trees while horses sun themselves, their tails workind like metronomes to swat away bugs.
It is difficult to identify the point where countryside gives way to the cityscape of The Hauge. It is a gradual transition which sneaks up on the unaware. One moment, tree and grass lined canals, the next, Den Haag Central station with its multitudes of people waiting patiently to board the next train.
The walk from the train station to the summer’s accommodations took place in a rather roundabout way, with many slight detours. Meandering down various side streets is not the most direct way to travel, but, after nearly a day in airplanes, is not an unwelcome way to pass the time.