By the time I arrived in Leiden from Amsterdam Friday, I was not in good shape. Every breath had a wheeze with it and there was a rattling noise in my chest.
I started walking but I had no idea where I was going. I was just blindly walking. I felt weak. It was cold, yet I was sweating. After walking a short distance, I needed to stop to catch my breath--my backpack, bags and purse had become too heavy for me--so I sat down on the front step of a village shop. I couldn't stop shivering. A man came out--the shop owner?--and said something; I had no idea what. Did he want me to leave? Did he think I was a vagabond? Was he asking me to go or was he asking if he could help? I had no clue. I knew I needed a room so I just said, "I don't feel well and I need a room." He left for what seemed like an hour, but I'm sure it was only minutes. Then he came back and motioned for me to follow him. We walked about a half block down a narrow cobblestone street where he stopped and knocked on a door between two village shops; he turned me over to the man who opened the door. Right inside the entry was a staircase that went up one level. The stranger pointed for me to go on ahead of him. We walked up the stairs and he opened another door into a spacious living room in an apartment. He motioned for me to sit down on the couch, then he left. It felt so good to be inside, out of the cold.
A half hour passed before a lady about sixty came into the room. She spoke very little English, and I spoke no Dutch. All I knew to say was what I had said to the man who brought me here. "I don't feel well and I need a room." It was hard to talk; each breath was painful, and I'm sure I looked terrible, so she motioned for me to follow her. I could not believe my good fortune. She led me to a bedroom that was big and beautifully decorated, with floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the street below. She insisted I take off my clothes and get in bed. A few minutes later, she brought me hot tea and cookies. I went to sleep and didn't wake up until the next morning.
Bacon and eggs and toast are staples in an American breakfast. Since being in Europe, no hotel or restaurant has offered such a breakfast( it was only bread and tea)...until I arrived in Leiden. Yesterday morning, my kind hostess delivered to my room bacon, eggs, cheese, roll, tomatoes, fruitcake, bread, butter, marmalade and tea. After breakfast she showed me to the shower. Oh my God! A shower.
I went back to bed after breakfast and a shower and stayed there the rest of the day. Every so often, I would wake up to find a little something for me to eat on the nightstand. I was in and out of sleep. One dream played over and over. I knocked on his door. When he opened it, he looked so good to me. Taller and more beautiful than I had remembered him and more blonde. He towered over me. Unlike me, he wasn't suffering at all from our breakup. His eyes were clear blue and showed no sign of distress. "I'm sorry; I'm sorry; I'm sorry," I sobbed. He sighed. Oh, no...not her again. By my showing up unannounced, I could tell I was annoying him. "Can I have another chance?" I asked. "No," he said, "It's too late," and then he closed the door.
Another American breakfast was delivered to me this morning. I ate everything but the cheese, bread, and tomato. I put them in my purse for later. I am now hoarding food. I'm almost out of money.
Later when I was ready to leave, I got my wallet out of my purse to pay her, she motioned for me to put it away. I owe her nothing.
I never got her name. What is wrong with me? Jack is right; I am self-absorbed.
At the train station. Next destination: Luxembourg and then home.
View from my room in Lieden
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