I always find switching gears difficult. So when I returned to Japan after seven weeks in the Netherlands, I already knew I was going to struggle for a while. I had been doing so well in the Netherlands.

“Yes, but,” Maan said, “if you lived in the Netherlands, you wouldn’t be able to be this busy all the time either, right?” And of course she was right. The past seven weeks had been planned down to the minute: giving talks, ordering proof copies, putting the finishing touches on the cover, then packing and shipping that enormous stack of books, rocking my own book launch (which I had also planned and organised myself), and in between all that, seeing friends and family too.

When Maan said this to me, I had just come back from an event at the Dutch Tax Administration. Normally, afterwards, I would have gone straight to bed. But this time I had ramen and a swirl instead – I was in Utrecht after all.

“Do you get to rest tomorrow then?” someone asked at my talk. “Normally, yes,” I said, “but tomorrow I’m going to the Efteling…”

Even though I thought that was a little over the top myself, I had taken the necessary precautions. I went with Charlotte, who knows me well. We agreed not to arrive too early, and not to stay too late. There was really only one attraction I absolutely wanted to do: Danse Macabre. I had also never been on Symbolica or Baron 1898, so those went on the list too. Charlotte really wanted to go on De Vliegende Hollander, because it had been even longer for her than for me since visiting the park. We also added Droomvlucht to our wish list. But Charlotte was also perfectly happy just looking at flowers.

We went on a weekday, and although the online crowd calendar said it would be busy, we waited around 25 minutes per ride on average. There were especially a lot of Belgians – I think they were on holiday there. I had applied for an accessibility pass, but in the end I didn’t need to use it anywhere. We took time for snacks and breaks, and that made it a wonderfully relaxed day where we could mostly just enjoy ourselves.

On Sunday and Monday, I was still busy packing books for various autism-related organisations – the campaign with the AutismeFonds that I mentioned in an earlier post. On Monday morning, Aafke stopped by for a bit, and she offered to drive all my parcels to the drop-off point. That helped a lot. I spent the rest of the day packing my suitcases. Originally, I had planned to travel back with just one suitcase (and a KLM trolley – more on that later), but I had ordered so many clothes on Vinted that it simply wasn’t going to fit. With pain in both my heart and my wallet, I booked a third piece of luggage, and even then it was only just enough.

On Tuesday morning, my dad picked me up to take me to Amsterdam Airport Schiphol. In the trunk was my half-size KLM trolley. I already had it back when I lived in The Hague in 2019 – in fact, I had two. The full-size dessert trolley seemed impossible to bring with me, so Riemer has that one now. But the half-size one had to be possible. I regularly see people bringing instruments or snowboards, so why not a trolley? I quickly stuffed a winter coat and some scarves into it too – those really did not fit in my suitcase anymore.

Alongside my suitcases, Dad also loaded two boxes of books, a box of packing materials, and a box of assorted household items (including my beloved S-hooks, clothes hangers, and buckwheat pillow) into the car. Those are going into the attic at Dad and Monique’s place. I also had a small box of food left over; they can enjoy that. On top of that, I still had a big IKEA bag full of kimono for Léonie from Froufrous. Dad will soon bring those to friends of hers in Zoetermeer, after which they’ll eventually end up in Léonie’s shop. Aafke Romeijn had already taken my label printer with her on Monday to borrow. Super handy for her own webshop!

In the car on the way to the airport, I started to feel nervous. I was about to arrive there with two suitcases, a small carry-on roller bag, and then that ridiculous trolley – I just hoped it would all work out. My dad had originally planned to simply drop me off at the entrance, but I asked if he had time to come inside with me, and thankfully he did. The trolley had to go to odd-size baggage, and because of its dimensions I had to pay an extra €185. I had already budgeted for that, luckily, but when I tried to pay at the desk, it suddenly wouldn’t work. I started sweating.

“Try with your bank card,” the woman said. I dug out my wallet, which was buried somewhere at the bottom of my overstuffed backpack. It didn’t work with the card either. My father offered to pay it for me, but it didn’t work for him either. After ten minutes of messing around, it turned out the payment terminal itself was the problem. At the desk next to it, it worked perfectly on the first try.

Moments like that are when I’m very grateful for my sunflower lanyard and autism card. After saying goodbye to Dad, I was able to head upstairs quickly, through security and passport control. After that, I still had almost an hour to sit in the meditation room and calm down before my flight.

The flight was completely fine. I had expected we would have to fly over the North Pole, but instead we went via Turkey Türkiye. That meant about an hour less flying time, and Wi-Fi the whole way. I was seated next to the emergency exit, with loads of legroom. Sitting beside me was a lovely Dutch couple in their sixties who were visiting Japan for the first time. I was able to give them some tips, and after that I listened to podcasts and watched YouTube. During the last stretch, I even managed to sleep for a bit. And then I was there!

Although I was briefly worried whether my trolley would actually arrive – and that someone at Amsterdam Airport Schiphol might think, hey, a lost trolley, I’ll return it to KLM! – it simply came out on the belt too. The odd-size belt, together with all the snowboards.

I took my luggage to Yamato Transport to have it delivered to our home. Because it’s a bit warmer in Japan than in the Netherlands, I also handed over the cardigan and coat I was wearing to Yamato Transport. That meant I could take the Narita Express carrying only my backpack, umbrella, and little rolling suitcase. Makes a difference. (Sometimes, especially when you’re tired, the best solution is simply to throw money at the problem.)

Everything was delivered yesterday. I spent the whole day unpacking and reorganising my room. The trolley fit exactly where I wanted it, with less than a centimetre to spare. Wonderful!

Still, I found it difficult for a moment. Last night I was complaining to François that I felt like I was going to lose my momentum. That everything at home quickly becomes too much, that I want to move my office closer to our house, that I want new furniture to store all the loose things, that I’m not getting any work done, and and and… “You only got back yesterday!” François said. And of course he was right.

Still, I already know I’m going to miss my hotel room. The autonomy. The simplicity. But today I went to my office for a while, and even though it still takes an hour to get there (one of the reasons I might want to move it), I realised again what an incredibly nice place it is. After my Japanese lesson, I rolled into bed and got a few hours of proper rest. And suddenly, I had space again. Maybe it doesn’t all have to be so drastic, I thought. Maybe this is good too. For now.