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janestarzYesterday was the big day for TommyCee. THE big day. Tying the knot and everything. So off we went in the train to Soest, where we caught a bus to the middle of nowhere, actually, to the middle of larper-heaven where squirrels rampage the trees and there's only a bus stop because there's a big convention/party-center. The bus, sadly, had to take a detour so we arrived a bit late (not that there was a real time to arrive because it was a big party), but we entered in good cheer - after having checked the bus' departure times. Forty-eight, every hour. Good.
The party was fun. TC was looking radiant in a gorgeous dress that her mother had made for her, and Paul was glowing. After our congratulations of the married couple, we mingled a bit and I recognized Tommy's mom and dad, as well as her brother and several people I met at Lowlands two summers ago. We sat down and got to talk with Manuela and Tanya, two girls quite active in the feminist movement here in Holland. They were all stories of Ladyfest next year and what they have been doing since when I met them - again, two summers ago.
We tried to take the 22.48 bus back.
Notice the tried in there.
We were at the bus stop in time. We expected the bus to be late, what with the detour and all. But we didn't expect it not to show up at all. After about 45 minutes of waiting, NoKey hitched us a ride at the party, who dropped us off at the Hilversum train station. Luckily there was a train to Utrecht within ten minutes and without botherin with changing our tickets, we hopped aboard and sagged. I was glad I had changed out of the suede skirt and put on trousers and a vest. Still, the people living in Hilversum and surroundings are all bastards who wouldn't give people a ride if their life depended on it, especially if it's a young couple who are standing in the middle of nowhere, stranded at a bus stop. (Excluding from this train of thought the nice couple who gave us a ride, ofcourse).
So there we were, at Utrecht Central Station, the throbbing heart of oozing malevolence that some people know as the Dutch railways. We found out the next train to Rotterdam would depart at 01.04. By then, it was twenty minutes past midnight. We asked whether there would be any other trains (it being Fridaynight), but then the nice man explained to us that the train of 01.04 would ride via Schiphol Airport, Amsterdam CS and finally arrive at Rotterdam CS at three am. That would bring us closer to home, yes, but not quite there yet. We would still have to take a taxi home, or hitch a night bus. Not to mention that you're underway for two frickin' hours.
Disaster. Now what? A hotel? The man pointed us towards where he thought would be hotels and we exited the station at Jaarbeursplein. There, three taxi's awaited. We decided to take a taxi to a Bastion, not too expensive.
This plan didn't work out either, because most hotels were booked, there was a conference of some sort in the Jaarbeurs, so what we could get would be 110 euro's a night, a person. Too expensive, considering that a taxiride home, to our doorstep, would 'only' cost 100 euri. So we looked at eachother, got in the cab, and drove home in the backseat of a comfortable Mercedes. Oh yes.
After a fitful night's sleep, we had to get up and we spent most of our morning shopping for cloth with Diana, one of my more challenging customers. She is having a gothic/Morticia dress fitted to her size, and we went over the entire market twice before we decided on the lace. But it'll be pretty. With just 6 meters of black fleece, 3 meters of green wool, and two meters of lace, I was done for (except for Diana's cloth ofcourse). Did buy some nifty new buttons (I have a button-fetish), and a lot of ribbon for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
manesni's cloak.
And after the market and saying bye-bye to Diana, I bought two new nifty bra's. I needed them badly and got quite a good service. I lost more of my baby-fat because my size went down from 75 to 70! *pout*
And now we're home. Exhausted. TC, if you're ever gonna get married again, god forbid, we're going to either sleep over or not come, unless you do it downtown Amsterdam. *smirk*
The party was fun. TC was looking radiant in a gorgeous dress that her mother had made for her, and Paul was glowing. After our congratulations of the married couple, we mingled a bit and I recognized Tommy's mom and dad, as well as her brother and several people I met at Lowlands two summers ago. We sat down and got to talk with Manuela and Tanya, two girls quite active in the feminist movement here in Holland. They were all stories of Ladyfest next year and what they have been doing since when I met them - again, two summers ago.
We tried to take the 22.48 bus back.
Notice the tried in there.
We were at the bus stop in time. We expected the bus to be late, what with the detour and all. But we didn't expect it not to show up at all. After about 45 minutes of waiting, NoKey hitched us a ride at the party, who dropped us off at the Hilversum train station. Luckily there was a train to Utrecht within ten minutes and without botherin with changing our tickets, we hopped aboard and sagged. I was glad I had changed out of the suede skirt and put on trousers and a vest. Still, the people living in Hilversum and surroundings are all bastards who wouldn't give people a ride if their life depended on it, especially if it's a young couple who are standing in the middle of nowhere, stranded at a bus stop. (Excluding from this train of thought the nice couple who gave us a ride, ofcourse).
So there we were, at Utrecht Central Station, the throbbing heart of oozing malevolence that some people know as the Dutch railways. We found out the next train to Rotterdam would depart at 01.04. By then, it was twenty minutes past midnight. We asked whether there would be any other trains (it being Fridaynight), but then the nice man explained to us that the train of 01.04 would ride via Schiphol Airport, Amsterdam CS and finally arrive at Rotterdam CS at three am. That would bring us closer to home, yes, but not quite there yet. We would still have to take a taxi home, or hitch a night bus. Not to mention that you're underway for two frickin' hours.
Disaster. Now what? A hotel? The man pointed us towards where he thought would be hotels and we exited the station at Jaarbeursplein. There, three taxi's awaited. We decided to take a taxi to a Bastion, not too expensive.
This plan didn't work out either, because most hotels were booked, there was a conference of some sort in the Jaarbeurs, so what we could get would be 110 euro's a night, a person. Too expensive, considering that a taxiride home, to our doorstep, would 'only' cost 100 euri. So we looked at eachother, got in the cab, and drove home in the backseat of a comfortable Mercedes. Oh yes.
After a fitful night's sleep, we had to get up and we spent most of our morning shopping for cloth with Diana, one of my more challenging customers. She is having a gothic/Morticia dress fitted to her size, and we went over the entire market twice before we decided on the lace. But it'll be pretty. With just 6 meters of black fleece, 3 meters of green wool, and two meters of lace, I was done for (except for Diana's cloth ofcourse). Did buy some nifty new buttons (I have a button-fetish), and a lot of ribbon for
manesni's cloak. And after the market and saying bye-bye to Diana, I bought two new nifty bra's. I needed them badly and got quite a good service. I lost more of my baby-fat because my size went down from 75 to 70! *pout*
And now we're home. Exhausted. TC, if you're ever gonna get married again, god forbid, we're going to either sleep over or not come, unless you do it downtown Amsterdam. *smirk*
