So, I'm in Amsterdam, waiting on the train to Osnabrueck. My flight was early getting in, which I didn't know ever happened, so I've got tons of time to wander the vast hallways of Schipol airport. Unfortunately, everywhere smells like the tasty, fresh baked breads of the Italian, Dutch, German and French bakeries that are nestled between designer stores, and I have come to the conclusion that there is nothing in this airport I can eat besides BK french fries. I refuse, so I will sip on my Capri Sonne and bemoan my gluten intolerance instead.
My flights were great. I had lovely neighbors; on the flight from Jackson to Atlanta was an elderly lady going to her nephew's wedding in Wisconsin, and from Atlanta to Amsterdam was a man on his way home to Finland. He was absolutely fascinating--he worked for a chemical company that had him live for three weeks in Rome, Georgia, then go home for a week, for around six months. Before Rome, it was a town outside Leipzig, Germany (I have a post about Leipzig from last summer!), and,at one point, it was Japan. He's hoping next time for Thailand, and I don't blame him. That's a pretty sweet set-up, if you ask me.
Jan and I got to be pretty close, even though he didn't speak much English or any German and I speak absolutely no Finnish. He hasn't always worked with chemical production. Before that, he was a fashion designer. Random, right? He didn't really go into detail, though, because he got side-tracked by telling me about Finnish candy. Apparently, the Fins go cuh-razy for this candy called Salmiakki. He told me straight up I wouldn't like it, but that I could buy it in Germany if I wanted to try it anyway. Challenge accepted. He also told me about some other candy and how yummy it was, then pulled out a package of them and offered me one. He didn't mention that it had more menthol than a Hall's cough drop or that it left your sinuses in a post-wasabi like state. I apparently was quite amusing in my pain/ confusion because he would not stop laughing. Once I got used to the cool burn of whatever the hell that was, I really liked it, though.
As much it pains me to write this, especially I begin to drool from the scents of broetchen, I can't hate being gluten sensitive too much. My meals on the plane were awesome. For dinner, it was a salad in balsamic-vinaigarette, fresh fruit, chicken with rice pilaf and zucchini and a slightly sweetened rice cake, and, for breakfast, I had another one of the suuuuper yummy rice cake things, a banana and corn flakes. Simple? Yes. Better than all of the other food on the plane? By far.
And I've finally figured out how to get me to sleep on a plane. I stayed up suuuuper late on Wednesday night, then took Nyquil with dinner. I was out. Cold. So much so that I couldn't even take my own breakfast. Jan had to get it for me. But when I woke up, I was so rested. I know I'm going to PTFO tonight, but I don't feel like I have to worry about that happening on the train.
Now if only I could stop missing people so much.
Love,
Eli
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