I Amsterdam (Completed)

Chapter 3.4 - Emma

Most of my day just consisted of me walking around Amsterdam, admiring the life of the city, and peeking into shop windows, my eyes peeled for a sackpack. I bought food the first moment I found some - fries and a sausage roll - which I gulped down completely within the first minute. The roll reminded me of the UK.

However, most of the shops I glanced at sold Dutch delicacies, and the bag stores I found only sold purses or backpacks, not sackpacks. I groaned impatiently. If I can't find a sackpack today, I won't be able to bring my sketchbook out tomorrow.

I walked down numerous streets, turning corners into new areas that I felt were more likely to have what I wanted. There has to be a sackpack store somewhere. Do I just have bad luck? Or do the Dutch not sell sackpacks?

I sighed. At least I'm walking around and seeing the city.

When I finally had enough of traveling around aimlessly, I gestured to someone passing by me on the sidewalk. She was a middle-aged woman with blonde hair so light it reminded me of the sunrise I saw this morning. Her arm held a massive grocery bag.

"Do you know where there may be a store that sells sackpacks?" I asked.

"Sackpacks?" she repeated, confused. Her eyes went left and right. "I'm not sure. Sorry." She rushed off, obviously in a hurry.

I wasn't certain whether she even understood what I meant by sackpacks.

I tried another person. "Sorry," he said in a British accent. "I'm not from around here."

I held in a grunt of frustration, shaking off my nerves. Then a man walked up to me. "Sackpacks?" he asked in a heavy accent. He was definitely Dutch.

"Yeah," I replied.

He nodded confidently. "Go down this street, and take a left at the first intersection you come to. A sackpack store should be there on your right." He made gestures to emphasize his words.

I turned to him. "Thank you."

I meant it.