Holland, Return to the Motherland…
As I originally said, since I was so young when I lived in Holland, all my memories consisted more of flickering moments rather than cognizant recollections. I should have said, “most” of my memories instead of “all” since I could have actually accurately described my old house and neighborhood in Vooschoten. Although I might not have remembered the real small details, that part of my past was actually pretty vivid – the front of the house at 74 Willem Barentszlaan, the pole in the alley to climb up on top of the garages (coolest thing possible at age 7…), the courtyards and in the middle of the neighborhood, and even my old bus stop on Piet Heynlaan.
Things definitely changed over 20 years, but it was pretty damn cool to see again.
Dinner down the road from the old house at my parent’s favorite restaurant Allemansgeest.
The school I went to for first to third grade, the American School of the Hague in Wassenaar. (Couldn’t go near it in this safe ol’ world we live in now…)