On the 30th of May this year, I turned 30. Although I kind of celebrated it for a week. Preparations had started months ago, as I wanted to throw a party for everyone who’s dear to me. Friends from abroad would stay the whole weekend. In the days prior to the event I lost my hairdressers-virginity. Friends, colleagues and students had expressed their shock and had even specifically told me not to cut my hair. I ended up with just a few hardly noticeable layers, for those who’ve asked.
As ever, it was Friday before I realised it, but everything was taken care of before the first three guests arrived. Except for the minor detail that these guests forgot to look up my address, or bring the invite. Due to excellent orientation skills on Julianne’s part, she managed to direct Nigel and Rona to somewhere in Heerlen. Then they called me. This turned into a slightly hilarious situation as I couldn’t give directions to save my life. Not even in Heerlen, no.
Fortunately they managed to find the station and I printed a map for Nigel and Rona, who would stay in a lovely castle for the weekend. Julianne and I went out for dinner and had a nice chat before we walked back home to wait for the boys. Or Team GB, as we called them. Their Estimated Time of Arrival went from 22.30 to 00.30, but with the M25 (on their side of the channel) turning into a parking lot, they eventually arrived a bit after four in the morning!
Julianne and I had taken our sleeping bags out and were camping in my living room (it’s things like this that make me happy). In texts and tweets back and forth, Julianne had reassured Graham and Todd that she (and I quote) “probably wouldn’t be able to drink all six bottles tonight”. When the boys landed we had just had an hour of sleep. So we got up, drank a glass of something and went back to ‘bed’ at what must have been around 05.30.
A few hours later, Graham said he slept like a lamb, if that’s a saying. We had the delicious banana bread for breakfast, which Nigel had baked for me. The plan was to meet Nigel and Rona at the station, where both Geoff and Els would arrive for lunch in the city. Els arrived earlier though. Julianne and I (the caterpillar people) hadn’t even crawled out of our sleeping bag – cocoons yet. So this butterfly went to collect Els in PJs.
There was a cycling event going on in Heerlen this weekend, but we managed to find a lovely, quiet restaurant for lunch. Another plus was that they still know how to serve tea (I’m planning on boycotting every café not serving English tea, because that’s ridiculous). The staff was very friendly and even though I got to be 29 for five more days, it felt very much like my birthday, with the foreigners being here. We all went back to my place, basically to get ready for the evening part.
I wasn’t aware of the British tradition to change outfits during the day yet, but every day’s a school day, isn’t it. I was also surprised to be asked about a dress code. Dutch people don’t really do dress codes (don’t ask me why though, we do often make an effort for parties). Thinking back of these girly conversations and what I eventually ended up wearing for some of the evening, this was rather fun too. The weather was never this grey at the end of May, but we had sinshine in between.
It didn’t matter. I had set my mind on a summer dress anyhow. The plan for the evening was a barbecue, at a truly wonderful location, where we could just do this inside the café. My dad and stepmum came to pick us up, as we didn’t all fit in Graham’s car. We made sure we were there at six, so that I could welcome everyone. After unwrapping some awesome gifts (I was spoiled really) and a speech, we had a lovely dinner…
To Be Continued
