Sixty-one days went by, sixty-one days to go before traveling back to the Netherlands. After a relatively rough start I am pretty settled now in Pittsburgh. I’ve made some friends and have gotten used to some of the American peculiarities. Although, I can’t appreciate everything about the United States, there are certainly things we Dutch can learn from. As someone on a bus remarked to me: “people keep coming here, so we must be doing something right …”
Creak-creak, creak-creak, creak-creak, the steps of the wooden stairs went as two people ascended: me in front followed by Jack. When we finally reached the top I recognised everything from the initial viewing.
“Beep-beep, beep-beep, beep-beep.”
I rolled over quickly to grab my phone and turned the alarm off. I had been lying on the bed awake, waiting for it to go off. My head was pounding like a pile driver, my throat was dry as sandpaper, and my sheets were soaked: I was ill. On top of that the hotel had informed me, the night before, that I had to get out of my room within two days. Great, only fourty-eight hours left, and no outlook on any semi-permanent place to settle.