To delightful Amsterdam – one of my favourite things about the place possibly being it’s relative proximity to where I am now. An hour in the sky and you’re back on the ground, wham bam. My attitude to flying veers haphazardly from excitement to trepidation and even on these ultra-short haul flights I find I can never really relax fully.
I made this exact same trip on the exact same date two years ago and that was the first time I’d flown anywhere in eight years, so everything about the experience felt new once more. How did I forget so much? Of course back then there was a little more tension in the air, and however irrational it would seem then and now I will probably always have it.
I recognise that the ‘solution’ may be to fly more often, near and far, to get more used to the experience. This year alone I’ve actually doubled the number of flights I’ve taken in my life from the previous total, which is pathetic really considering that total is now a measly twelve.
I want to love it so that I can start seriously entertaining ideas of travelling halfway round the world and back before I’m too old, and the prices get jacked up again. But for now, another chance to visit the Tuschinskitheater and purchase smoked eel from Schipol duty-free will do…