Unlike some of the other passengers on the train, I have nobody waiting to greet me, and it also hits me that I don’t know anyone here, apart from Gerrit. But then I cheerily remind myself that life is all about meeting new people. How difficult can it be to make new friends? So, with renewed courage, the handy invention of Google Maps and a smile on my face, I take the ten-minute walk to the cheap hotel I have booked for my stay before I pick up the keys and arrange the final formalities with Gerrit in the morning.
As I head towards the Red Light District, the cold sends shivers down my spine. I only hope the heating system on the barge is sufficient. I huddle into my jacket as a man in a hoodie skulks past me. I watch as he darts in through a door with a red light above it where a young woman with long dark hair wearing a black basque stands in the window. I look at my tired reflection in a nearby window as I walk towards it. At least there’s no chance of anyone approaching me here and getting the wrong impression. I look far too worn out and exhausted for any of that!
The hotel isn’t the most salubrious, but it’s only for a couple of nights at most. After that, I am hoping I will be in my new home.
I walk up the steep, narrow stairs to my room on the top floor. My thigh muscles ache. It could certainly make me fitter living here with all the stairs in this city, although with the gorgeous waffle shops I passed on the way to the hotel, perhaps not.
My room is basic, but I guessed it wasn’t going to be a palace by the cheap deal I got. With not much to look at inside the room, I go to the window where I watch the people walking along the streets below. You can see everything from here. Couples giggle together at the X-rated shops, and single guys leer at the windows with the red lights.
I begin to wonder if this is the right place for a single woman in her fifties to start over. Did I truly believe that one weekend trip with my late best friend would make this the right destination for a new start? It must have been sentiment getting to me again. I hear some shouting outside and have to hold onto the curtain to steady my legs as I feel a moment of panic set in. I was in my twenties the last time I was here, and I am beginning to realise how much I have changed since then. What if I hate it, and worse, it has become a city wracked with violence?
Thankfully, after a good night’s sleep, my anxiety turns to curiosity, and I look forward to seeing my new home on the canal. As the sun shines down on a bright autumn morning, I feel ready to meet Gerrit and visit my houseboat for the first time.
Following what could be the easiest sale Gerrit has ever made, he is only too happy to collect me from the hotel. I saw a photo of him on the company website, so I recognise him when his teeny little car pulls up outside my accommodation. The car makes me smile as it looks like a little Lego car. There would be fewer problems parking if everyone drove something like this, though I do wonder if both of us can fit inside.
Gerrit is young, good-looking, tall and blond. He looks as though he should be featured on a Dutch tourist board advert, welcoming people with his friendly smile. He has a very firm handshake, leaving my knuckles feeling bruised. I realise that I’m going to have to toughen up if I am about to renovate a barge.
‘It’s so good to meet you,’ says Gerrit with a warm smile.
‘You too. I can’t believe I’m actually here.’
‘We definitely did it in record time. I don’t think I’ve ever managed to get a sale put through quite this quickly before.’
‘Well, once I put my mind to something, there’s no going back. Even if I am getting a bit of anxiety now about whether I did the right thing in such a hurry.’
‘Ah, there’s nothing to worry about now that you’re here. Sometimes it’s best not to think too much about big things.’
‘Yes, that’s true.’
‘So, I have to pass by the office first and then I’ll take you to your new home. Does that sound okay?’
‘Absolutely perfect.’
We weave our way through the Amsterdam streets, which are already busy at this time in the morning, until we reach Gerrit’s office, which isn’t too far away. He runs in to grab the key for the houseboat and jumps back in within minutes, putting down a key attached to what looks like a rubber ball for a key ring. I look at it, baffled, which Gerrit notices.
‘It’s buoyant. So if you drop your keys in the canal when you’re trying to open the door, it’ll float.’
‘Wow, dropping my keys in the canal is something I hadn’t even considered.’
‘You’d be surprised. Especially if you’ve been out all night in some of these local bars.’ Gerrit smiles at me, and I notice his beautiful white teeth. I feel like one of those annoying older ladies who says things like, ‘If only I were ten years younger’, as I look at him. Only I’d have to be around twenty years younger or more, and that would be weird.
Ten minutes later Gerrit’s good teeth are the last thing I’m thinking about as he pulls his little automobile up right outside my new home. It is the one that I hoped wasn’t mine as soon as I saw it lined up. Having driven past the grandest of houseboats of polished wood, eco-friendly sustainable barges and fancy modern glass designs, I can see why it was a lot cheaper than the others. Mine stands out for all the wrong reasons. It looks even more sorry for itself in real life with its flaky paint and rotting wood. The Dutch winters have obviously taken their toll.
‘Yikes. I can see why it was a bargain compared to the others,’ I say, gulping nervously.
‘Ah, it’s okay. I’ve seen worse,’ says Gerrit.
Like, how much worse?I want to ask him. Any worse and it could possibly sink as much as my heart has. The video Gerrit sent me was certainly taken in a good light. There are so many things that require work, and I start to think the guy who did the survey was on the fiddle.
We step onto the deck and I look at the shabby front door in anticipation. The moment Gerrit opens this door, I will see my new home properly for the first time. Will it be even worse inside? I take deep breaths as Gerrit fumbles with the key. I look around me, as I try to calm myself down and spot a man on the houseboat next door, who smiles and waves over to us. I shout a hello across to him.
‘As you can see, it’s very friendly here,’ says Gerrit.
‘It certainly appears to be.’
I smile at the man on the houseboat who stands there, curious, probably wondering who his new neighbour is. Beside him is a beautiful creamy-coloured dog. The sight of his dog cheers me up.
‘Oh, what a gorgeous dog,’ I say to Gerrit.
