Design and language

Design - and language - affect so much of our experience.  The ancient centre of Amsterdam is wonderful because of the repeating design of the ancient houses, each one different, but each offering a similar story in its own way. It is a wonderful place to walk, just looking.  But....

I wanted to change the time of my flight home, to travel earlier. That was partly because I was really tired after seeing those two extraordinary and powerful exhibitions, and partly because I wanted to get home in time to go to Duncan Grant's What a Liberty! party in Faversham. My original flight would be landing far too late, after 7pm at Gatwick.

The Easyjet app promises I can change flights myself if seats are available, and at a moderate cost - €30, which is enough to feel like a penalty but not too punitive.  However, the app threw up an Error message saying 'Normal manage booking operations are not allowed with early flight transfer [4400008]'.  This kind of jargon is extremely frustrating. It's preventing you from doing what it says you can do, in fact what it was specifically set up for you to do.   And the wording is obscure and meaningless... What is 'early flight transfer'? What does 'Normal manage booking operations' mean?  Aggh! Here is 'language' not working properly.

Anyway, I decided to leave the city early, abandon plans to mooch for the morning and get to the airport.  There was a chance that if I was there in person, they could change the flight for me.  I needed to be there as soon as I could. I went down to pay my bill. The hotel reception suddenly had a long long queue, another little glitch.

My Easyjet info was telling me of yet more traffic delays due to roadworks south of Amsterdam, and also said some trains weren't running at all. The text was not clear... some or none?   The hotel receptionist said to use the bus and explained it wasn't far away.  So I lugged my now heavier bag along to the bus stop, weighed down with art books.  (Why didn't I bring a wheeled case?).    I got to the bridge, I could see the bus. But, between me and the bus station was a massive tram-line installation thing going on... the new tramlines were set in gleaming new concrete beds, and the whole road was fenced off in both directions as far as the eye could see.   I was going to have to walk right down to the far end - almost out of sight - and then back again, to get to that bus.  I was weary and worried. (Damn those synthetic sheets! Hot and sticky nights make for poor sleep and bad moods). 

      
The bus driver was kind. He doesn't handle money - you can buy a ticket using a bank card.  He drove so swiftly and surely through the streets, it was a joy to watch.  The morning was light and sunny, the streets quiet and gentle. Amsterdam looked lovely and here I was, leaving it.   At the airport, unlike the London set-up where the name EasyJet is emblazoned everywhere, I couldn't see it at all... had two or three goes at finding a desk... But, the young lady put down her phone where she was evidently canoodling with someone, swallowed her chewing gum, and swiftly changed my flight. And when I asked how much, she shrugged. She meant 'Nothing!'  Hoorah!  Win!!!!

I had to queue to check in, in one of those ghastly sudoku-type zigzag lines, which in me at any rate arouse deeply depressing moods.... but it only lasted about 15 minutes. Then up and through the amazing security checks, where - unlike London - you do not have to unpack half your suitcase and spread it out in those heavy plastic trays. It all stays in the bags. I had inadvertently left my waterbottle in my bag, and that went through fine.  As you walk through the X-ray arch, you have to lift your hands high in the air... not all that easy for some I imagine, and humiliating... the staff were laughing. 

Inside, I bought a sandwich and smoothie (delicious!), and made a drawing, and eventually with long delays and lots of standing made it onto the plane and hence home.  The gay guys next to me did not want to chat till they needed to borrow my pen to fill in their Non-EU passport forms. This was their first trip to London. One was interested in royal history, asked where they should go....  I thought how much I love London, how rich it is, how impossible to explain all the feelings, but listed a few obvious destinations and said they'd have a great time.

On the train to London, the pretty girl sitting opposite me had three bottles of fruit-flavoured cider with her, and proceeded to open the crown tops with her teeth.  I bet she won't be pretty for long.

At home at last, with a swift change of clothing from travel-baggy jeans into gladrags, we were off to Duncan's Private View... he had swatches of his beautiful cloth there, 100% silk from Liberty of London, and Tana Lawn, in his lovely friendly designs.   This very day, it was announced that Faber, printing the Booker Prize winner 'Milkman' by Anna Burns, had chosen one of his designs as the jacket cover.  A big day!  Liberty have 'first pop' at all his other designs now too.  He makes these sitting in a van, at night, on the road somewhere, waiting with the road-mending gangs, as he is by training a geologist and materials engineer... he helps with the pouring of new road surfaces, and does these amazing doodly drawings while he's waiting. (If he was Dutch he might have been working with that tramline gang in Amsterdam).  Now his genius has been recognised and he'll be world famous.