For those who aren’t following my Snapchat story (no Dad, you cannot add me on Snapchat to follow this too. There are some boundries I refuse to cross.), I got epically lost today. Amsterdam I could manage(ish), but Den Haag? Nahhhhh.
To start – I missed the train stop on my way here from Amsterdam. I ended up taking the train all the way to Delft only to realize my mistake; jump off the train; and catch the next one back towards the Hague while hoping no one checks my ticket. Or if they do, that they chock it up to me being an idiot American.
Finally I arrive at Den Haag HS station. I assumed it would be like Amsterdam where it was obvious where to buy a tram pass – it wasn’t. 10 min later, I finally find someone to ask, successfully buy the ticket, and rush to the tram to get to my hostel. May I just say, if my hostel didnt literally have a red carpet (well, in this case, orange), I am pretty sure I would still be wondering around with my 50lbs giant backpack.
After attempting to get directions to where I was planning on eating dinner, I ventured back into the giant city for dinner. This was the beginning of my end. I thought I was following the instructions I had found to get to the dinner place, but about 20min later I was in the middle of god-knows-where, 100% sure that I had gotten completely lost.
Thankfully, I have been in Europe enough to know the best way to find out where you are is to look in the sky for a giant pointy church steeple and try to find your way there, and then you can probably find someone who will tell you where you are. So I looked in the sky, pinpointed the highest steeple, and started walking towards it. And I found a GIANT building.
From the signs, I figured out I found the ‘Binnenhof’. Its basically this giant, gorgeous building, with a huge pond on one side, that has a courtyard in the middle – where the church/castle thing is. And from all the security and the diplomatic-plated cars, I’m assuming this is a government building and someone special was visiting today.
Update on Father’s obsessive need to talk to me: He hadn’t heard from me all morning (I didn’t have wifi), so I get a whatsapp message when I get to the hostel – “What’s the plan for the day?” (Bear in mind it is 430pm at this point). By the definition of ‘overprotective’ in the dictionary, I’m pretty sure there is a picture of my father.
And, BTW Dad, I am still alive – found my way back to the hostel eventually.