Going Dutch (edited)

To Alf's delight, we eventually managed to go to Amsterdam.

He had received a letter from Cornelia expressing her sadness at the fact that we had to curtail our journey and miss the anticipated rendezvous.

Her missive galvanised him into action and made him more determined to ensure that this time he would not disappoint his sweetheart.

He asked me and Giovanni if we fancied joining him on a trip to the Netherlands, a country he had visited many times and knew well, and offered to bear the cost.

We thanked him but declined his generous gesture.

“Well go Dutch and share the expense”, was our reaction.

The reason why we had decided to travel to England by car was not financial but because of fear of flying.

Now, after the vehicle's disastrous demise, that was an option to be considered.

Although in the beginning, we had to scrape and save, sometimes subsisting on beans on toast, money was no object now we were earning.

We managed to take time off after Easter for a short vacation and booked a flight to Amsterdam on a charter airline.

It was our first flight and felt apprehensive. 

There was no need to be afraid, though; we crossed the Channel very smoothly and landed safely at Schiphol Airport.

Cornelia was waiting for our arrival with Eva, a friend who welcomed us with a big smile and said:

“Benvenuti, io parlo italiano.”

It wasn't at university that she had learned our language, she went on to explain, but while she was an au pair in Florence.
I was glad that we had someone who could translate and save us the effort of making ourselves understood by a mixture of French and German, the only other languages we had a smattering of.

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We were all excited at the prospect of a good time when our plans hit a snag.

Due to some conference or an art exhibition Cornelia had been unable to find us accommodation in Amsterdam and had booked us in a hotel in Utrecht.

“Pas de problème”, said Alf, “we just have to commute and it doesn't take long by train.” 

We could spend the day in Amsterdam and catch the last train to our hotel.

The surprises did not end there. The girls had been invited to a hen party and the invitation had been extended to us.

We had travelled in casual wear and were unprepared for a night out.

“Come as you are”, they suggested, so we deposited our hand luggage in a locker at Prinsengracht Station and went off to the celebration.

I never experienced such a crazy jollification as it happened that evening.

I was open-mouthed when I realised that the first place they took us was a strip club, where, embarrassed, we tried to dodge the silk stockings that the strippers were flinging at us, among raucous laughter from our female contingent.

The trail from one drinking club to another seemed unending.

Gradually the jubilation petered out and guests started to leave.

At one point Alf looked at me and asked:

“Where is Giovanni?”

He had vanished and so had the bride-to-be.

Before panic set in, he returned looking sheepish, his right cheek resplendent with the imprint of two scarlet lips.

A burst of applause erupted accompanied by great cheers and whistles from the girls.

He blushed and said:

“Let me explain...”

And we all waited with bated breath to hear what he was going to say.

© Luigi Pagano 2023
Previous episodes:
https://www.abctales.com/story/luigipagano/three-men-and-car
https://www.abctales.com/story/luigipagano/master-plan