Mellow Yellow's interior had dark clouds of heavy, sweet smelling cannabis smoke drifting towards the window. A girl sat on the bench outside preoccupied with a roll-up cigarette. I watched the passers by. We'd suggested this bright, if dubious, spot to meet. Soon I would be saying hello to Debra.
Then suddenly, with a swirl, Debra arrived and we greeted the Dutch way with three kisses (left, right, left). We sparked into conversation, surprisingly familiar for this first meeting outside of blog-world. Debra had half expected an American. But I'd phoned yesterday and we'd made those final arrangements voice to voice. We both agreed there's something about voices. Not that there aren't voices in blogs, but there's an extra sparkle in a real life meeting.
We found a cafe, two smechliche koffie or some such that Debra ordered fluently. I nodded agreement with the choice and then we talked...and talked...and talked.
Blogs, real world, photography, writing, stuff.
And now I can say I've 'touched' the shiny Hasselblad that Debra coaxes for some of her vast array of pictures. Debra's cameras span plastic Holga to the sculpted, meticulous genius of the Hasselblad, which is worth, and will get, a post of its own.
An hour and a half of chatter cartwheeled past us until normal lives started to tug our sleeves. We left together, a farewell left, right, left and I started making plans for my journey back to evening meetings in London.
Amsterdam has always been a place I enjoy, and now, for me is all the richer for Debra's presence.
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