Sunday November 2, I got no sleep, ran to Victoria Station at 3am to hop a bus to London Stansted to catch a flight to Marrakech. The only problem is the bus driver never showed up, so every bus after was overpacked. I was 5 minutes late to the gate and sat there, watching the plane take off.
Always thinking swiftly on my feet, I called my boy, Tawa, asked for a spot to crash for a day, and I’d hop a bus the next day to Amsterdam, and from there I’d fly to Rome, then take a train to Venice, and fly back to London before headed to the U.S. for my favorite holiday, Thanksgiving.
Here I am in Amsterdam, loving every second of it. After all, it is my favorite city thus far, even with its cold weather and gray skies. I love it. The smell of reefer every few feet even though I don’t smoke, and hospitable folks, even with their stereotypes thanks to American television. Hell, I don’t even get scared walking by the police. It’s the little things.
But here’s the thing now: Rome and Venice have been flooding because of extremely heavy rains, and that’s not the life I want. So…
Just went back to look for a ticket to Marrakech, and found it. No additional charge by the airline, and the weather is supposed to be to my liking. So I’ll still be heading to Marrakech, by way of my favorite city.
So, ha! Things work out the way they’re supposed to, don’t they?