They arrived at Amsterdam around eight in the morning, the weather forecast to be rainy for today and for the rest of the remaining week. People coming in and out from the Amsterdaam central with their raincoats or umbrellas ready-at-hand, the locals seemed accustomed to the English-like condition.
From what Cay saw in the photos made visible by users of Instagram and various social platforms online, the capital was portrayed as a sunset-like destination for any pedestrians and photographers with trained-eyes. However, as warned headfirst by the people in raincoats and umbrellas in one hand, it felt like the sky had been polluted by dark smoke coming out from large chimneys during the Industrial-age.
But there were facts as seen in pictures that stood truthful of how Amsterdam had been portrayed. Bicycles were parked almost everywhere: on the arched-bridge, under trees, outside of establishments where the parking lots for bicycles were and leaving them just outside of houses in plain sight. The canals looked beautiful from afar, but any closer look anyone could tell the water was murky and depressingly plain, only the blaze of the eye-catching sun would correct its’ surface. The faces of the pedestrians, especially the locals, had almost grey to pale white faces, the tourists looked slightly better (most likely due to their adventurous hearts).
There were cafes just beginning to open during the inconsistent pour of the rain, their yellow lights illuminating from within the shops, people waiting impatiently outside of the doors while holding their grudge against the weather. People who are inside the opened eateries could be laughing amongst friends and colleagues, their heart warm from avoiding the miserable droplets. The dew that clung onto the frames of bicycles unable to reflect the sunlight because gloomy clouds prevented sunlight from shining onto the ground.580Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQfnULC6sjK
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A faint and familiar smell of marijuana came out whenever the two were close to a “coffee shop” and someone entered or exited through the doors. The legality of smoking hemp made evident by the glassy eyes of pedestrians who visited the shops, the uncontrolled laughter inside, and the occasional dead-silence within. That was a way to start one’s morning, Cay thought as they passed the third shop.
The walk from the central station to their accommodation was not a far one and they have yet met their check-in time, taking a detour instead of a straight road was rather an obligation than a preference as they walked in a tired-motion. Their backpacks felt heavier than usual and weighted more as the fabric absorbed more droplets and from the obvious condensation in the air.
A flight of long, steep stairs led them to the reception of Amigo Hostel. Behind the till was the owner, as seen when Cay booked the two beds online, he spoke no Spanish but greeted them like the Sol Española. On their way here, the two had bought several convenient foods and some toiletries to ensure they would not be leaving their beds until that evening.
One of the workers at the hostel showed them the floor where the reception was before taking them upstairs to their room.
“Here, you can find the smoke room.”, the man opened the door briefly before letting go, the small piston fixed above the door frame retracted its’ apparatus, closing the heavy door in front of Cay and Judas.
*
“That kid sounds just like me when I was younger.”, Mark Bloom stared at the disappearing figure of Ben as he told his wife, Janet.
“Reckless, unplanned, a little bit shaky, determined, and handsome.”, He added and laughed just after finishing his sentence.
“Oh, gosh.”, Janet was caught silly by her husband’s remark but tried to keep the conversation going.
A playful remark should be returned adequately with the same amount of playfulness as she used her fingers to twirl and smooth her husband’s light jacket. The fabric that has been with him for nearly eight years felt comfortable to touch, its’ surface smoothed by the coarse wind of deserts and near-zero temperatures on mountains. The same condition that did to the old jacket had the same effect on his appearance as well, a smooth but rugged look on his face and a substantial amount of experience had been stored in his energetic eyes.
He fell in love with his wife the same reason why she fell for him, their thirst for more of what life had to offer. Mark was born in Washington but later moved to Arizona because he had always dreamt of living near the North American canyons. A few months after moving to the new state, he met Janet, who was at that time an ecologist studying the Arizona desert’s biological life. It felt as if she was living in a different planet, that was what Janet told Mark when they first met at the edge of a canyon, her hand holding onto a piece of pock with a patch of algae on the opposite side of her hand.
A few months after appearing in each other’s’ lives, Mark acquainted himself more with the young brunette with sun-kissed skin, the two started traveling as soon as they decided to move their relationship to the next level. The trips went from just a single day, later stretched to months and occasionally to years. Much of Janet’s work required her to occupy herself around the country. If lucky, she would be sent abroad to assist in ecology projects with institutions. Mark was able to finance himself from the interest returned from long years of investment in securities and stocks. Just like any careful investors, he placed his money on different shares and kept checking consistently for any global legality and political changes. The return in investment managed to get him by while still able to make a small fortune, which he gave away to charities and funded small government projects.
His spare time and her work requirement coincided to the best of convenience and interest, hence most of their travels were readied for them and required little planning. One of their trips abroad that was not a scheduled by Janet’s company had been a relaxing retreat to Sumatra, where Mark proposed to her on the bridge formed using thick tree roots suspended just a few meters above the rapid stream near Padang. The setting had been perfect for his execution when they finally reached the destination by motorcycle, with a scarce number of visitors and the reinvigorating melody of the stream’s splashes and swishes.
That moment never left Mark even after ten years of marriage, his wives’ exhausted look disappeared from the sight of the engagement ring, the oval-emerald cut 50. carat sapphire sat reflecting the direct sunlight that escaped from the lust green above them. His confidence and courage paid off when Janet agreed to marry him. A smirk formed unwillingly every time he looked at the ring that rested around her finger and never seemed to leave anytime later.
Time for departure, as the announcement came and reminded them. back at the airport, their flight bound for Myanmar’s Yangon International Airport awaited their arrival. Mya and a driver would have been waiting outside of the arrival hall in another half a day’s time, with both hands holding onto a piece of white papers imprinted with the couple’s name.
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