Bianca was sitting bolt upright on the sofa, waiting till it was time to walk to the bus station. Beside her lay a large backpack and travel bag. Spread over the table were papers with background information about the project she was going to work for. Twenty minutes to go.
She had been trying to read but she was too excited to concentrate. The house was quiet except for the tick of the kitchen clock. She felt her heart miss a beat – as it had done often over the past few days. Yesterday evening she had said goodbye to Vera and Derk. Then she’d been whatsapping for hours with Filippo, who was in Italy.
This is it, girl, she thought. The minutes crawled by and even with this departure time she would get to the bus station far too early, therefore catching a train too early, therefore getting to Schiphol too early. Her parents were going to meet her there. She glanced around the living room once more – for the last time for a few months – and at the note Willem-Jan had put up: ‘Housemates! I’m off and I’ll soon be lying on the beach in the South of France. Have fun with your exams and theses. Think of me when you’re sweating it out in the library. I’ll drink a cocktail to you. Bye darlings.’
He’ll be back in a week, said a voice in her head. You are staying in Africa for months. She dismissed the thought. If it wasn’t a bit nerve-wracking it wouldn’t be as interesting, she thought. A mantra she kept repeating.
The clock ticked away in the background. She played with a cork with her foot. To calm her nerves, she unzipped her daypack and checked the crucial items. Papers, visa, money, international plug. Even though she had already checked for her passport three times, she panicked when she didn’t see it straightaway. When it emerged from behind some papers she couldn’t help laughing. The Adventures of a Worryguts.
Time to go. She hoisted her pack onto her back. Looked back one more time with her hand on the doorknob. Okay. Adventure, here I come.