Another miracle took place in the airport yesterday (scroll down to "Amsterdam" if you want to actually hear about things here, not my long-winded account of what happened in the airport):

Successfully caught my first flight to London, but came extremely close to missing my connection to Amsterdam. I bussed from terminal 1 to terminal 4 OK, with sufficient time to find the gate and board. Checked the departures screen for my 11:30 flight to Amsterdam and it said it was at gate 19. So I walked down there, catching a couple of the speedy escalator things and, cos I don't see the point in standing in the queue as everyone rushes as though it's some kind of race to get on the plane, I waited til most people had boarded. Gates were due to shut about 11:10 but it was nearly 11:20 by the time I handed my boarding pass in at the counter; they were still open. Then the agent told me I was trying to board KLM; my pass was for a British Airways flight. Shoot!

Thankfully I had the right terminal but of course my BA flight had to be all the way down at gate 1, and none of those escalator things were going in my direction. So I ran. And I haven't run that far or that fast in way too long.

I was praying and hoping I'd catch my flight as I ran, but already in my head I was making plans on how I'd have to buy a ticket for the next flight out, and estimating how much it'd cost. I could hear the final boarding call as I was running, lugging my big heavy laptop bag and trying to dodgingall the people.

But I made it. Just!

It was a miracle the gate was still open since it was due to shut at 11:10, and it was a little after 11:20 when I finally made it.

And by the time I got on the plane, taking deep breaths and thanking God I had made it, I wanted to be sick. I really need to work on my fitness.

Amsterdam

Anyway, if you're still reading, you probably want to hear about Amsterdam:

Once you get past the images of coffee shops and prostitution, it's actually a really nice city. Sunshine, cobbled streets, historic buildings, canals...

Last night, after dropping our backs at the house of the couchsurfer who's hosting us, we went into town for the Freedom Day Eve celebration. Dam Square was packed out, to see the queen and hear the speeches, and also to observe a couple minutes of silence to remember everyone who fought and died in the war.

Today we visited Anne Frank's house (Anne Frank Huis). Very sad. It makes it all the more real to actually be there. I was surprised at how big their living quarters behind the "bookshelf" were - much roomier than you'd imagine - but still, it must have felt like prison hiding in there, with all your windows covered and risking death if you went outside. For anyone visiting Amsterdam, I highly recommend visitng this place.

Now, after we've finished on here, we're off to find a non-dodgy place to get back and shoulder massages - so sore from our packs and the plane rides! - and find out about trains to The Hague, where I'm hoping to catch up with Martine, a girl I worked with at the icecream shop in the Bay of Islands, and also get some beach in!