Homeward Bound, How Ironic - Day 46

    This morning, I woke up to an empty apartment in Amsterdam. It was so quiet. After seven girls bounding about, laughing, and yelling up the stairs for the past three days, the silence was almost eerie. Especially since the apartment looks like the same one from the movie Taken. A little freaky.
    Since my flight was at 6:50pm and the girls left in the morning, I figured I'd meander around a bit before heading to the airport. However, one thing about Amsterdam that I didn't like was that I could not for the life of me orient myself in regard to direction. Every canal looked the same, every street familiar. So without cellular data or a map, I was a little apprehensive to roam too far for fear that I would never find our apartment again. I went back to the Pancake House. (duh!) and then walked around the city center a bit in the opposite direction that we normally traveled. I saw the Rembrandt Museum and a real life Amsterdam traffic jam (kinda hilarious, if you ask me!)

      The final note that I wanted to add on this post was that after walking to the train station with all of my luggage, hopping on a train to the airport, finding my gate on the other side of the airport, chillin' on a super short flight, and then finally deboarding, I got stopped hard core at customs... like, didn't think they were gonna let me in. (And NOOOO it's not because I was carrying any illegal substances... except for some questionable cheese). I was seriously, no joke, the last human being in the airport by the time he was done questioning me. Apparently, I'm shady. He kept asking me about documentation and I was like, "What kind of documentation do you need? I'm here less than six months, so I don't need a visa. I'm not here on study. What the junk do you want?" He was just being ridiculously difficult and it was frustrating the crap out of me because on top of him grilling me, he made me miss my train. Ugh. So annoying. 

     But the irony of it all is that, though I had a fantastic time in Amsterdam, I was so happy to get back to London because I feel like I'm home here. Like really home. I couldn't wait to get on the tube. I was eager to hike up my three story walk-up. I was excited to throw my luggage down in my flat. 

     And I almost wasn't even let back in the country! Now that I'm back, all I keep thinking is how annoyed I am that I can't stay here. I have researched work visas and dual citizenship - everything! I'm willing to work. I'm willing to pay taxes, no matter how exorbitant. And bottom line is: they don't want me! What the hell!?!