It is approaching midnight on a Tuesday and it is with unnecessary enthusiasm that I embrace this idea, as if windmills themselves have sent fairies on a one way flight of fancy straight to my susceptible self.
Well, of course I should learn Dutch. As a direct descendant of Dutch lineage, it only makes sense that I should begin my lessons on a Tuesday evening in the middle of July. And, after all, I am capable of speaking Afrikaans -it isn’t that much of a stepping stone required to bridge the gap. It’s not like Afrikaans is a derivative of Dutch, sufficient to aid me in communicating with the locals when I visit Amsterdam at the end of this year, no. Dutch is the way to go.
It is this realisation that has my friend’s words from earlier this week dawning on me like the Planet of the Apes. “Do you know what you should do, Amy? Just start a blog. Every time you have an idea, make a decision or change your plans, blog it. That way you can stop telling me and I can just read it online. And after three months, you can look back over the posts and see how often you change your mind!”. As we were beside the ruins of a castle in the English countryside at the time, his words were as empty as the abandoned building behind us. If you place a ditzy dreamer in a landscape where her imagination can turn old ruins into new possibilities, naturally her mental chalice is going to overflow with imagery and illusions that will find her drunk with sentiment. And we have all heard of Dutch Courage… I succumb to the rush as I firmly believe I am capable of building my castles in the air, that I will follow the path I have forged in that moment with unwavering dedication. Besides, I do not know what state of indecision he refers to -perhaps the Massage Therapy course I longed to take earlier that year, but have abandoned in search of more sustainable dreams? Or could he be speaking of the way I changed the date of my plane ticket not once, but twice before finally returning to the UK? Is it my constant alteration of my intended field of employment, or the instability regarding a constant postcode? Or could it be how I cannot decide whether to visit Amsterdam whilst the summer still sheds a glimmer of the sun? Amsterdam! Oh, I really ought to learn Dutch…
And as my head drifts in the clouds, the reality of his words ground me with an undesired sobriety. I would be inclined to suggest he is right, but it is common knowledge (which he will sternly reinforce) that he is seldom wrong. And so it’s almost midnight on a Tuesday, and PERHAPS I will learn Dutch. But not tonight, as I sense a dreamer’s hangover approaching. En er zijn geen koffie winkels in de buurt!