Man, what a day! Seriously, I’m still reeling from it. So, I’m a raftsman, right? Just chillin’ in Oldenzaal, minding my own business. You know, floating down the Dinkel River, just me and my thoughts. But today? Pffft, it was a whole different ball game.
First off, I wake up late. Like, super late. My alarm? Totally betrayed me. I jump outta bed, throw on my old boots, and dash out the door. I live near the Markt, so I’m sprinting down the street, dodging cyclists like I’m in some weird video game. Oldenzaal’s streets are wild, man. You got the Langestraat buzzing with shops, and then there’s the cozy little cafes on the Hoofdstraat. I love it here, but today? Ugh.
So, I finally get to the river, right? And guess what? My raft’s gone! Like, poof! Vanished! I’m standing there like a lost puppy. I mean, who steals a raft? I’m fuming, ready to throw a fit. I start pacing, thinking about all the times I’ve been nice to people. Did I lend my raft to the wrong person? Did someone think it was a free-for-all? I’m about to start a neighborhood watch for rafts!
Then, outta nowhere, I spot this kid. He’s like, 10 or something, and he’s got my raft! I’m like, “Yo, kid! That’s mine!” He just stares at me, wide-eyed, like I’m some kinda monster. Turns out, he thought it was abandoned. I mean, come on! I’m not a monster, just a raftsman! I’m all ready to give him a lecture about property rights, but then he smiles. And it’s this goofy, innocent smile. I can’t stay mad. So, I just laugh it off. “Alright, buddy, let’s share it.”
We hop on the raft, and I’m teaching him how to paddle. He’s got this wild energy, splashing water everywhere. I’m soaked, but it’s hilarious. We’re cruising down the Dinkel, and I’m feeling all warm and fuzzy inside. Oldenzaal’s got this charm, you know? The trees lining the river, the sound of laughter from the nearby park. It’s like a postcard.
But then, bam! Outta nowhere, this storm rolls in. Dark clouds, thunder, the whole shebang. I’m like, “Seriously?!” We paddle back like our lives depend on it. I’m yelling at the kid to hold on tight. We’re racing against the wind, and I’m thinking, “This is it. This is how I go out—drowned by a kid on my own raft!”
We finally make it back, drenched and laughing. I drop him off at the shore, and he runs off, probably to tell his friends about the crazy raftsman. I’m standing there, catching my breath, when I see my buddy Jan. He’s at the café on the corner of the Markt, sipping a beer like he’s just won the lottery. I’m like, “Dude, you won’t believe my day!”
So, I plop down next to him, still dripping wet. I tell him everything. He’s cracking up, and I’m just shaking my head. “Only in Oldenzaal, man. Only here.” We end up chatting about the old days, the festivals, and how the city’s changed. I mean, remember when the old church on the Grotestraat was still standing? Now it’s just a memory.
As the sun sets, I’m feeling grateful. Yeah, today was a rollercoaster. But that’s life, right? Full of surprises. I take a deep breath, look around at the familiar streets, and think, “I wouldn’t trade this for anything.” Oldenzaal, with all its quirks and charm, is home. And I’m just a raftsman, living my best life, one crazy day at a time.