Flight of the Eagle

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After a memorable weekend of partying and saying goodbye to my friends, the time has finally come to depart. At 7AM my alarm went off reminding me of the last things I had to pack before leaving the house. It sounds like a cliché but the last days really went by so fast. To be frank with you, I barely realised what I was going to do. Still at this moment, it hasn’t completely sunken in.

Being on the airport always gives me a great feeling. You know that you’re heading for adventure. This time felt a little different. Sure, I’m looking forward to the new experiences and amazing people I will encounter but somewhere deep inside, it feels like I also leave something behind. The last couple of days have been so good to me and made me realise what a wonderful group of friends I actually have. Thanks for being part of that.

But enough with the melancholy. Whilst walking through the airport I was looking for the smoker’s lounge I noticed a group of people standing in front of the lounge. Apparently it was temporarily closed for maintenance. In the meantime there was a group of 15 – 20 people waiting to finally be allowed to pump the tar into their lungs. If there is one thing I’ve learned about this trip so far, it must be that there is no place on earth which makes you feel as bad about being a smoker than the lounge on Schiphol Airport, more than enough reason to quickly put an end to this habit.

Two hours I had to wait before the crew finally opened the gate and let in the people. Luckily this was the exact same moment my one-hour free Wi-Fi had run out. Inside the plane there was a big American woman welcoming me into the plane and seeing me to my seat. The plane itself, not quite what I was expecting. I guess that after so many flights you simply get spoiled with the luxury of other airlines. The inside of the plane looked like a set of an old Miami Vice episode. Probably the same time frame in which the plane has been built. There were no screens with their own remotes installed in every headrest but instead of that, small 13” screens were spread over the ceiling of the aisle. Sitting down in my seat next to a German couple I told myself to simply get used to it and suck it up. When looking around, it was easy to spot the American citizens. I can’t exactly tell why but there is something about them which makes them stand out.

Five minutes later a stewardess came up to me and asked if we wanted to be upgraded to better seats. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Most of all my knees were filled with joy by this news. Not even ten minutes into the plane and my legs were already starting to hurt. In the front of the plane a more spacious seat was awaiting me with an empty seat between me and the person next to me and seas of leg space. I could live with that for the next ten hours.

As I opened my eyes I noticed that the first hour of the flight had already past. I did not even notice the take-off. Looking up I saw a film playing on the screens. It couldn’t be more American. A blonde sobriety girl from Texas falls in love with a tough Cowboy making his money by riding bulls. Guess I’m going to stick with Sons of Anarchy on my laptop, hopefully my battery will last me long enough to finish season 6.

A couple of hours later captain told us they had start the descent and that we would be arriving in Philadelphia. Every time you are at an airport in a different country you notice how well—organised Schiphol is. Nevertheless, I set foot on the soil of the United States of America only a small flight lay between me and my final stop in Grand Rapids. My stomach was still recovering from the first cholesterol attack I initiated at the first burger shack I saw on the airport, as I sat down in the second flight. For some reason this flight seemed to take a lot longer than my first one, but maybe that’s all got to do with mind-set. Knowing I was only a couple of hours away from the magnificent town of Grand Rapids, Michigan.



It was a lot colder than the 32 degrees Celsius in Philadelphia. A cold breeze and a light shower made my welcome complete. I guess that Michigan realised that me being Dutch meant that I would not be able to feel at home without any rain or other weather-related hardships..

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