It’s 03:30 AM. My phone is ringing. I never wake up so early on a Sunday morning, but today I’ll have a long journey ahead of me. Time to get up and take a quick shower. I look in the mirror. My eyes are still sleepy. Every night before every voyage I can’t go to bed early. I can’t say I’m nervous, but more restless. Too much things on my mind and too many things to do at the very last moment. Although it is almost a routine job, it’s not getting any easier because I’m attached to my personal belongings and every time I want to bring as many things with me as I possibly can carry. Call it crazy or stupid, I don’t care. I rather call it being prepared because I never forget something and I always have the right outfit for any kind of situation. That’s an amazing feeling. Anyway, it comes with a cost. The result of three hours of sleep is clearly visible. I gather all my stuff and take my morning coffee in the car. Time to go to the airport. Although it is my holiday, I miss that typical holiday feeling. Maybe it is because I’m mentally preparing myself to deal with temperatures of -10° instead of wondering what bikini to wear.
After an hour and a half drive, I arrived at Schiphol Airport where my little sister was waiting for me. Her nightshift was over. We drank a cappuccino, I joked about how good her butt looked in that uniform and said goodbye. Time to find my gate, dragging my 15 kg backpack with me and dressed like I was ready to survive the next month in Siberia with my long winter jacket and my huge scarf. The typical ‘mind your step’ made me laugh instantly. Every time I’m here, over and over. For me Schiphol is a place where a have a lot of good childhood memories. A place where most of my journeys started and a place where I feel back home after months at sea. I love airplanes. When I was young, I wanted to become a pilot. Small girl, big dreams. But that’s another story. The next couple of weeks I will be in Russia. I can’t wait for the adventure to start. Russia here I come!