#1 - Beginnings
We arrived here on a Sunday evening. It was already 9 PM as we trudged out of the airport gates lugging a heavy pile of suitcases onto an empty road. Someone should have received us here and, after a few moments of panic and frantic WhatsApp calls, we found out that the driver was late.
We sat down at a parapet on the footpath. It was still bright, and streaks of yellow light hovered on the horizon. Back home this would have been no later than 5 PM. I took a picture to send my folks back home.
The driver arrived in a black Mercedes van and seemed friendly. As we drove from the airport to our apartment, he asked us whether we had been here before.
"Not really," I lied to put off any further conversation. I had been here for two days about five years ago, but the memories of that trip were hazy.
As we passed eclectic buildings and idyllic canals, it started to sink in. This was finally happening. More often than not, the pursuit or idea of a goal is sweeter than its reality. This contrast between the hypothetical and the actual is particularly visceral for physical spaces.
Back in India, the idea of a European sojourn, however brief, used to evoke a nostalgic longing for a culture steeped in art, romance, and beauty. Now that it was happening, we had mixed feelings. The glaring hole from what we had left behind loomed much larger in the background.
Feeling the same potpourri of emotions, my partner and I looked at each other and passed reassuring smiles that seemed to say - all will be well. And for a brief moment in that black car dashing towards Amsterdam at a breakneck speed, it was.