At six o clock on Saturday morning I am scrambling to get things packed for my 9:25 flight. I am throwing out food, struggling to get zippers zipped, and panicking about how I am going to pack my dismantled bicycle into a box (I don't have any tape) so that I can bring it with me on the airplane.
Erik comes at seven thirty and we load my things into his van. Including my dismantled bike and the huge box that I've yet to pack it in. He asks me why I have waited until the last minute to finish packing. I think "I've never done things any other way!" but I say, "I don't know."
I climb the steps to Hanneke's bedroom and give her a few gentle nudges to wake her up. She leans up in bed and we hug goodbye. She tells me that she was happy to have me in her house.
Erik and I arrive at the airport and park on a sidestreet. As luck would have it, there is a group of three men packing their bicycles into giant cardboard boxes. And they've got what I don't: a huge roll of duct tape. In about 5 minutes, Erik and I do the worst imaginable job packing up my bicycle. Because of the box's ramshackled assembly we have doubts about whether or not they will allow it onto the airplane.
I leave most of my belongings (what's left of them) in Erik's van. He will hold onto them for me when we meet up in one month in Scotland. We check in at the terminal and I am relieved to see that they have allowed my bicycle to come onto the airplane.
I board the airplane and one hour later I am in London. I've slept during the entire flight and because the time in England is one hour behind the time in the Netherlands the time is the same as when I left. Without being conscious of it, and without any time elapsing, I am here.
And the next few days looked like this:
Had my first ride on a double decker bus. Sat on the top level, in the front seat. The only thing in front of you is a big window and it feels like you are flying.
Train stations refused to allow me onto trains with my bicycle so I had to sell it. I was really disappointed about this but I really had no other choice. The bicycle adventure I had dreamt up sure was short lived.
After two days in London I took a train to Brighton. Amazed by the beauty of Brighton. It is a charming city set amongst rolling hills along the English Channel. Also the gay capital of England, which I didn't find out until today.
I am now settled in at a Buddhist retreat centre, living amongst 25 or so residents and 7 monks and nuns. I had a wonderful conversation with one of the younger nuns - she was just ordained two weeks ago. She is only a few years older than I am. I wrote about what we talked about in my paper journal. I will post it in a later entry.
Spent today in the garden. There is one other woman who is also doing a working visit. She is from Brazil but has been living in England on and off for a large portion of her life. She is married to an English man. Her name is Cecilia and after we finished working today we took a walk down to the beach and stayed there for a few hours.
More on this later...
