Life in a Box

Other than the previous entry suggests, I have not yet arrived at Go. I am still in London, but only just. With the time ticking away fast now, my last week has officially started. A week from now I will be hoisting my backpack on my back, take my suitcase and close the door of yet another room I inhabited for a year. Until then, there's a lot to do and quite a few people to say goodbye to.

Starting with the practicalities, it is time to arrange the shipping of my things. More of my possessions are packed away in a number of boxes. Clothes, DVDs, cds and kitchen utensils. Interparcel will be taking charge of it all on its way to my parents'. Coming Monday I will be housebound whilst I wait for my parcels to be picked up. Before then, I will have to fit my remaining things into one last box. And hopefully it will be just one last box, but I have a feeling there might be more than one. Still, better to send it than to take it with me having to pay extra kilos to Easyjet. As cheap as Easyjet is with its tickets, as expensive it is with surplus luggage. My backpack and suitcase together will have to be exactly 20 kg or less.

Apart from packing, I will have a visitor this weekend. Waqar is coming over from Bradford. Arriving tomorrow, he will be staying one night. Before I will meet him at Victoria Coach station, there is tea with Francesco, who will need to complain about his work, as he does. After tea, dinner with Waqar and then probably a movie once we get home. Saturday a small reunion of Bradfordians is planned. Waqar's ex-girlfriend Kristin is coming to London as well, as is my ex-upstairs-neighbour Tosin. Tosin is arguably the coolest neighbour I have ever had, being confronted with my music on a daily basis and not once complaining. Quite the contrary, he preferred coming down to take some off my computer.

Next week will see my last three days in my first job. Although I liked it, and learned a lot, I don't mind leaving now. It is time for something else. Something new. Something where my heart is, if possible. As usual though, I leave little time to breath. On Thursday, the last event I have organised will take place after which we will go and have drinks in the pub. At eight the latest I will have to leave though, to go home, eat something to then take the last train to Gatwick Airport. At 7:10 am my flight will take off to Lyon Airport, where my parents will be waiting to take me home.

Crossroads

This is the end. It is also the beginning. The beginning of the next part of my life. A part that will be longer than the staged past. Perhaps. Over the past three years I have started a new piece in a new place. I think you will find I move a lot. The weblogs I have kept are there to prove it. From Utrecht to Paris. From Paris to Bradford. From Bradford to London. From London to Somewhere in the World. I don't know where Somewhere is, but I do know it will take some time to get there. I will keep a weblog to prove it.

The new part starts at a Crossroads at a place called Go. Go is my parent's house. The house I grew up in, somewhere in the Netherlands, near Rotterdam. I start with nothing. No job and no place of my own to live. I also start alone. On my way to Go however I have met people who will come with me to Somewhere. Who will stay with me all the way to my Thirties. I think this is a good point to introduce some to you.

My oldest friend Wendy I met as a child at school. She now lives in Innsbrück, Austria, rides a motorbike and works for Burton. For those of you who don't know, Burton is a company that sells sporting gear. She's also a qualified snowboard teacher and has promised me free lessons. Which I still did not take. We meet once a year at Christmas and sit on her bed drinking tea as if we never moved since we were at school.

There's Nenna. Loud and Dutch, like me. We met in Paris. We worked together, later lived together and spent every minute of every day together. She now lives in Barcelona, has recently graduated but due to not having found a job in her own field yet, she now works for Heineken at the IT help-desk. Says 'doe jij dat nou eens' and 'dat vind ik nou weer eens niet zo leuk'. Translates as 'you do that' and 'now there is something I don't like very much'. She also thinks it is not at all fair not to be given a biscuit.

Katie has been my friend for two years now. She is British but loves Europe and works as a translator in Strasbourg. Says 'the way forward' and 'it's all good', sentences I copied from her. She claps her hands in a cute way when she's happy and about to indulge in some icing sugar. She's also one of the people in this world that when they smile, they seem genuinely happy and the day seems a little brighter.

Although these three girls are arguably my closest friends, there are a number of others that will feature here. Olli alias Mr. Ex-Flatmate I lived with in Bradford for nine months. Is German and whines in a funny way when about to lose a game. Waqar, WaQ for close friends and relatives, lived one floor higher in the same building. Likes talking about Pakistan and quoting from the latest tv-series he is addicted to.
Bronia is my friend in Paris whose door will always be open for me. I don't really use the word, but when she smiles, adorable is the best description. Kamel started out in Paris as my neighbour. From an Algerian, he recently became a French national. Sticks his tongue between his teeth when winding me up.
On my journey to Thirty, Marta will come with me. She is my opposite in every way. If you'd see us together, you would not believe we are friends. She screams and gets drunk when going out. I take her home and she calls me up the next day to say she argued with boyfriend. She's also the person that unknowingly makes you feel better when sad. Francesco 'Facebook, Facebook' was my colleague. Italian and a great cook. He's also got a great accent. Starts sentences with 'welle'.
And at home, there's always Peter. Peter I met in secondary school and has become my cinema companion when I first went to live abroad. My mother used to tell me "the people you stay in touch with might not be the ones you expect it from." For Peter, that is definately true. He's in IT and probably one of the loveliest people I know.

Although this is only a selection and other people will feature, I cannot possibly name everyone here but will introduce them when appropriate. Along with new people I will meet on my way and new friends I will discover. Between London and Somewhere in the World.