I was in the departure lounge at Frankfurt Airport on my way home to Joburg, having spent the previous few hours soaking up as much of Amsterdam as possible.
I'd squeezed in a visit to the Van Gogh Museum, a quick look at the Anne Frank Museum, whizzed off to the Amsterdams Historisch Museum, and then back to the hotel to fetch my luggage in time to catch a train to Schiphol Airport for my flight and a last-minute rush to get some gifts in the duty-free. Talk about a busy day! And now it was time to relax on my way home.
The most moving experience was to stand among the milling crowd of international tourists in the Van Gogh Museum. I couldn't help thinking how this greatly talented man had sold only one painting during his career and died from a self-inflicted gunshot wound. How tragic that he never lived to experience the recognition of his genius.
Less artistic was the number of times I sat in the tram near someone blowing their nose. It seems the damp Dutch climate is conducive to the development of sinusitis and the noisy expelling of mucus on so many occasions was disconcerting, especially as I had come to Amsterdam specifically to attend an infection-control-related conference.
My thoughts were interrupted by an announcement over the intercom: "Ladies and gentlemen, the flight from Frankfurt to Johannesburg is overbooked. We are looking for volunteers to step off the flight."
In a state of animated decision, I made my way to the volunteers' assembly point. They offered to put me up at a hotel in Frankfurt for the night and then gave me e600 cash for the inconvenience. That was the good news.
The bad news was that I had to wait two hours in the bowels of the airport for the flight to leave as the computer system could not pick up my luggage before the flight had departed. Then I had to catch the shuttle bus to my hotel.
I'd not been told there were two Intercity hotels, namely the Intercity and the Steigenberger Intercity, and when I walked into a very plush five-star reception area, I smelt a rat. I was at the wrong one and it took a whole 10 euros of my promised 600 to get me to the correct one at 12.30am.
I slept the sleep of the battle-weary soldier and woke the next morning to take in Frankfurt. Armed with a map and camera, I decided to take the train to a central point in the city and head in the direction of the most interesting art museum, the Städelsches Kunstinstitut. En route I came upon the old Roman Catholic cathedral.
Inside was an aerial photo of Frankfurt taken after World War 2. I was shocked to see that the whole city was flattened by the Allied bombing raids, and the cathedral was badly damaged.
I crossed the River Main, a tributary to the Rhine but wider than the Orange and Vaal rivers together. I found the museum and feasted on the wonderful artworks.
The day was drawing on and my feet were starting to complain, so I headed back to the airport to claim my inconvenience money and catch my flight. By the time I reached the departure lounge, I was finished. Two days of chasing through foreign cities had taken its toll.
I propped my aching feet up on a chair. Another announcement: "Please line up so that we can collect your boarding passes."
In a state of painful lethargy, I remained where I was. The attendant approached me and requested that I join the line.
"Please can I wait here until the queue is shorter?" I asked.
"Are you disabled?" she inquired.
"No, my feet are sore from walking, "I replied.
"Ja! Then you are disabled, give me your boarding pass!" said this most efficient angel.
Eventually we boarded and I slept all the way home, where I arrived with my case full of duty-free goodies and my heart full of many experiences. Lesson learnt: sometimes it pays to be offloaded.