It wouldn’t be travel with Kens if there wasn’t a story to tell. Actually, it’s genetic. Truthfully, wherever we travel, be it with little Stevie and the screaming mother, or ending up with bread as crumbly as Judas’ faith that took us years to vacuum out of the car, or mom setting Hollyn’s hair on fire by accident, we end up with stories to tell. Perhaps these are the tales of adventurous people.
This morning I was to meet another friend and fellow World Gymnastics Blogger at a local cafe of her choice. I had packed my bags and made my lunch prepared for an easy day back to Bonn all the while sticking to my strict 15 euro food budget for the entirety of the trip. (Which I would have proudly done had it not been for the upcoming details to follow.)
As I headed to the door with my suitcase, backpack, and clarinet it hand, I went to triumphantly open the door and say my last goodbye to Amsterdam. I gave it a swift tug and oof…there went my shoulder out of place. I looked in disbelief as I thought I had missed the door handle and so I tried again. Oh. No. I most certainly did not. What was certain was that I had been locked IN the apartment.
You see, European doors are funny like that. You can actually be locked in your house with no way to get out. With no spare key and my friend an hour away, I had to get creative and thus came the great escape Amsterdam: Kensley edition 2016. Out the window it was. One bag, two bags, three bags and a praying me hopped out that window. It should have been a sign of the day to come.
Once I met up with my friend, she realized the cafe she had chosen had been shut down so we walked in the cold to find a new one. We plopped down and I ordered a mint tea that was very refreshing as we dived into the details of the upcoming gymnastics code for the next quad. As I went to pay, I handed the man 3 euros and 20 cents to which he stared blankly at me as if I was a dumb cow. He said, “It’s 3 euros even.” I was quite confident in my reading abilities and tried to explain to him that in fact my menu said 3,20. Baffled, he finally came over and looked and said, “In all the years we’ve had those menus, no one has ever pointed out that we have overpriced the tea and tried to pay the higher price.” Happy to help, I thought the day was turning, only to quickly figure out it wasn’t.
The trip back to Amsterdam was supposed to be a short 3 and a half hours. With delayed trains, cancelled trains, and therefore missed connections, my easy trip home, turned into a 7 hour trip. There was a one way train to Paris that I almost hopped on just to be able to sit in one train for the entire duration of a trip.
For my trip, I had packed oven-roasted potatoes and onions, bread and butter, paprika, an apple, and two oranges. I thought I had enough to last for the 3.5 hour trip plus some, but for 7 hours I did not. Thankful to Dad for his lesson on always keeping an emergency stash, I was able to buy a sandwich for dinner. I came oh so close to my 15 euro homemade meals lasting me through my whole trip in Amsterdam, but sometimes life just takes over and has other plans.
Though today was not as smooth as I would have liked, it is comical to look back upon and hopefully gave y’all a chuckle. At the end of the day, I still get to come home to a warm bed and to homemade Russian food. I am blessed beyond measured and thankful for my life!