Godverdomme* but I’ve loved living in Amsterdam. Cycling home from work, or from a brown bar after three too many biertjes**, over cobblestone bridges, watching the lights of the townhouses reflected in the glassy canals below… you really have to live it to realise how gezellig*** it is.
It’s 7.5 years since I boarded an Easyjet flight from Luton, clutching a one-way ticket to Schiphol, wondering if anyone else on the flight was emigrating that day, and with no idea of how things would go over here. Reasonably well, it turned out. And there was no particular reason to stop now – my partner and I both still enjoy the city, and we both still enjoy our jobs. But we’d discussed living in Stockholm, where’s she’s from, and knew we wanted to do it at some point.
And with complacency being the enemy of success/change/progress (according to Google Search™ ), a self-administered kick up the backside seemed like a good idea.
In a coupla weeks, we’ll haul our belongings back down those vertiginous apartment stairs – that or the removal guys will winch them out of the window, which I hope they do, the window-winch thing is cool – and we’ll say our tot zienses, and then we’ll board a KLM flight clutching one-way tickets to Arlanda.
This time, there’s no job waiting for me as soon as I land. But I’ll know at least one other person on the flight who’s definitely moving country too. And instead of that feeling of “who the hell knows how this’ll turn out”, this time there’s very little doubt in my mind. Det kommer att bli jättebra.†
* God damn! (A strong curse.)
** Cosy, cute, friendly, inviting, warm (supposedly untranslatable).
*** Small beers. (I’m going to stop it with the footnotes now.)
† (Oh all right:) It’ll be great.