the tale of our journey

Better late than never.

the first leg: NOLA to Houston

Our flight was scheduled to depart Armstrong International at 10:45am, so we arrived at the airport around 9 o'clock. After checking our luggage and confirming with the gate agent that Adam's travel guitar could indeed be stored in the overhead compartment of the twin-engined, turboprop aeroplane, we snacked on some popcorn while waiting to board.

The flight was fully booked and we had to sit several rows apart. I gate-checked my carry-on back-pack, and settled in at my window seat. The flight was barely long enough for drink service once we reached cruising altitude, and before I knew it we had landed. I could hear Adam making friends with his seat-neighbors almost the whole flight!

the second leg: Houston to Amsterdam

We arrived in Houston ahead of schedule, and had several hours to kill there. Houston is the largest hub for Continental-United and a sizeable airport, so we knew we'd have some ground to cover to get from Terminal A to Terminal E. We ended up on the monorail: TermaLink. And several of those flat-escalator-things.

We located our departing gate, and looked around for a place to get some lunch. Luckily, there was a great little cajun-themed restaurant mere steps from our departing gate: Pappadeaux Seafood Kitchen.

As it turned out, Papadeaux is owned by some Greek brothers, so we both opted for Greek choices from the menu. Adam had a wonderful table-side-tossed salad, and I enjoyed a chicken & tzatziki pita wrap. We loitered in the restaurant for a while following our meal, and when the time came, made our way to our gate.

Our Boeing 767 was waiting at the gate for us, and it wasn't long before we boarded. Our seats were together this time, and Adam was kind enough to let me sit by the window. We settled in for the long haul, with blankies and pillows and entertainment and snacks.

The in-flight entertainment consisted of a selection of movies, television shows, and music. Each seat had its own display monitor (as a part of the seat in front of you), control, and headphones. Neither Adam nor I used this elaborate system much, except to watch the map feature, which charted the course of the plane on its journey across land and sea.

The plane's interior was configured in a 2–3–2 layout. We were on the right side of the plane, near the center galley and lavatory, but not too close. Because we had requested special meals (Adam: gluten-free; Myself: vegetarian), we were always served first at mealtimes. For dinner, Adam ate chicken, a quinoa-veggie medley, a gluten-free roll, green beans, and a gluten-free cookie. I ate Indian-spiced veggies, red beans and rice, and some soft of tofu substance, with a whole-wheat roll and a vegan cookie. Mine was rather good (or maybe I was just really hungry), Adam's was passable as sustenance. Our breakfasts were much more disappointing: fruit tubs with GF and vegan muffins which were very poor pastries indeed. But we didn't starve, because we had packed nuts and cheese and fresh pineapple.

The Atlantic Ocean was, for me, a dreamy dark blur. I slept over most of it, and when I awoke to peer out my window, the world was naught but dark clouds, steadily illuminated by the aeroplane's navigational lights.

After flying all night, we approached Amsterdam on schedule. By the time we flew over the English Channel the clouds had cleared and we had descended enough that we were able to watch the Dutch countryside slowly come into view below us as we landed in Schiphol.

Both of our checked bags arrived, although it felt like we spent an eternity at the baggage carousel watching Bags That Were Not Ours pass us by. Then we following the signs for International Arrivals.

Customs was a breeze: just two lines. One for checking identities & passports. One for declaring Stuff. Since we didn't have anything to declare, we avoided the queue and walked on through, and then we were in Amsterdam. Still in the airport, but safely in Europe with all of our bags.

the third leg: Schiphol to Jordaan

Of course, our first task was to buy our train tickets into Amsterdam. (Like most major cities, Amsterdam's airport is located in an outlying suburb and not near the city center.) And that's when we first ran into trouble. The automated train ticket dispenser wouldn't sell us a ticket because we lacked the right sort of credit card. And the counter where real people sold tickets also boldly displayed "NO MAGNETIC CREDIT CARDS ACCEPTED -- PIN & CHIP ONLY."

Uh-oh! We didn't know there was a different European credit card technology, and that our cards would be useless at 90% of the places we'd like to use them (train station, grocery store, etc.). So much for our plan to use primarily credit cards on the trip so as to avoid ATM withdrawal fees and exchange fees, and pay off the credit cards in September. It was a poor time to realize that my budget plans were ruined: we were stuck at the train station!

Between us, we scraped together 20 USdollars, which was only 11 Euros and some change after exchange. But it was enough for our train tickets. So we went down to the basement platform and boarded the high-speed train to Centraal Station. Soon enough, we exited the train into the open air platform and set foot in Amsterdam. It was a chilly morning, but the cool air felt good to me after the hustle and bustle of the public transit.

With our rolling suitcases, backpack, big purse, and guitar in tow, we set out to find our flat. The street naming and numbering system in Amsterdam makes little sense to my American mind, but I was able to navigate to our flat. It wasn't a pleasant walk, seeing as how we were lugging 5 weeks worth of clothes, and we hardly knew where we were going. But we made it.

And when we finally found our flat, it was the only place in the world I wanted to be: safe and sound in my temporary home here in Amsterdam.