Return to the land of windmills, intoxicated by tulips.

When the plane landed at Schiphol Airport in Amsterdam, I said to myself that the departure this time had been too long. In the blink of an eye, it has been four years since I last stepped on the land of windmills and tulips. Four years means a woman can have several romances, give birth to a child, or get divorced. But for me, it's nostalgia and reminiscence.

Because of the daylight saving time, the sky was still dotted with a few white clouds at eight o'clock in the evening. The joy of seeing long-lost friends is indescribable. I want to shout loudly: "I'm back, Netherlands!"