I’ve Got a Ticket to Anne Frank’s House

So yesterday I bought a ticket to Ann Frank’s house, making an upcoming trip seem all the more real. This year I will be turning 60. Some establishments are already giving me a senior discount. This is a good and sobering thing. It means I am getting closer to the abyss.

A friend who has been in Florida for 4 months doing parent care put it succinctly: You can easily imagine a death conveyor belt—and we are on it.

Of course we are from the day we are born, but it only becomes more real the older you get. A big reason to start in on that bucket list. So yesterday I bought a ticket to Ann Frank’s house.

Actually it started with purchasing an airline ticket to Amsterdam, leaving Chicago June 5. I will take my bicycle with me, and God willing and the creek don’t rise, I’ll end up in Stavanger, Norway where I have another ticket. All together I will be gone 40 days.

The online research is the easy part—executing the plan is freaking me out. More so now that I have committed by buying a ticket. Last time I flew overseas with my bike I was absolutely flummoxed by lack of cellphone data and bought a SIM card. This time since I’m going to a number of countries (and currencies!! More freaking out) it wouldn’t be feasible to buy SIM cards. I’ll have to rely on measly 2G and offline navigation with Mapsme and downloading Google maps when WiFi is available. Believe me nothing is more intense than being in a foreign country with no idea where to go or which direction to take. And it is 100% sure this will happen.

Also last time I flew with my bike there was a missed connection and I ended up losing all my reservations on the other end because of the delay. The what ifs can be overwhelming—what if my plane is late and I miss my connection this time. What if they lose my bike box? (I’ll write later about all the extra $$ you have to spend for this.)

So fingers crossed: I’ll actually get to redeem my ticket to Ann Frank’s house. Something I’ve only ever dreamed about. Across miles and years I’m coming to you.

The secret annex