We are sitting here in the hotel a few kilometers away from Schipol Airport. Tomorrow we will take the shuttle over there and then fly home. The end of the trip.
The last 12 days, and especially the 7 days on the boat, have truly been a dream come true. I thought long and hard before I decided on how to celebrate turning 75. That won't actually happen till October, but now was the window of opportunity for all 10 of us to be able to participate. Sham came despite being scheduled for hip replacement surgery in less than a month. Ian came despite his coughing of the last week and ongoing back problems. Kieran came despite having to miss the first camp session. None of us had cycled the 40 km a day for a week, but everyone did their best and it was wonderful.
We rode together through unfamiliar countryside. We got animal updates from Rowan all along the way. Joanna provided music for inspiring young people. We sailed over canals on ferries. We stopped for stork nests, old German bunkers, dike explanations, and a crazy bike museum.
We enjoyed ice cream, coffees, beers, waffles -- both Belgian and Stroopwafels. We marveled at the workings of a windmill, the stained glass in a cathedral, the bells in a belfry.
We played card games and guessing games. We started on a diamond dot craft that will need many more hours to finish. We celebrated birthdays -- current, those past and those yet to come this summer.
And we talked -- together at dinner, in small groups on the boat, in pairs while cycling--about future plans, feelings, politics, religion, fashion, shared past experiences. Kieran and Ian played clarinet together on the back deck a few nights.
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We connected. That was my greatest hope for the holiday, that we would all connect. And they will all be fine when it is my time to go. I know that and I am so thankful.
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