A Review in Three Parts
Leah Nagely Robbins
I invited my 18 year old to join me on my trip to Amsterdam. She and I explored Australia together in 2016 and what better way to celebrate high school graduation than to see more of the world? So much has changed since 2016, including our understanding of her autism and the accompanying anxiety that comes with it for her. Her interest was piqued by the proximity of Billund, Denmark to Amsterdam. Billund is the home of LEGO. Could we go there too? Hell yeah. And with that began our planning for a ten-day trip. We accounted for almost all uncertainties with advance ticket purchases for museums, hotel reservations and day passes. But we couldn’t be sure of the resilience to sensory factors throughout our travel. To my surprise, when we needed respite the most, we found it in some unlikely places.
PDX Sensory Room
We arrived two hours early for our flight to Amsterdam and the weeks of preparation led us to the first long flight. Our return flight from Australia in 2016 was fitful and though this time she was armed with two small squishmallow pillows and a soft blanket, we couldn’t be sure it would be comfortable. In concourse D, awaiting our Delta flight, we walked by the Sensory Room. It opened in 2022, designed for people with sensory disabilities, including autism. We opened the door and entered an open space, passed napping travelers on both sides of the door. Across from the wall of windows was a small couch, I enjoyed. Rose grounded herself on the floor, pulling out sensory items from her backpack. On one of the walls hung a large enclosure with a bubbling liquid through which a rainbow of changing colored light refracted. As bubbles moved upward, color moved downward. I felt my own heart rate slow. We left the room ready to fly.
Amsterdam Schiphol Meditation Room
The Schiphol airport in Amsterdam is bigger than some cities and the crowds in motion were like competing Saturday parades when we arrived. Booked through to Billund, Denmark we had almost three hours until boarding our next flight. We navigated first to a quick sit-down bite, pizza for Rose, coffee and muffin for me. My primary task was to find SMS cards for our phones for data during our trip. This led us to the center of what felt like Mall of America, though I’ve never been, a huge, covered atrium, two stories of shops and cacophony of voices, rolling luggage, and background music for good measure. It was too much for Rose, who did not trust I knew where to find the SMS cards. To be fair, I didn’t, and there was some back tracking, and her dysregulation grew.
We escaped to a quiet-ish corner of the second floor, seeking some relief, and found a sign for “Meditation Room”. We beelined. Unlike the PDX sensory room the intended audience for the Meditation Room is the faithful, devout, or anyone with a meditation practice. We are none of those things, but we can be respectful.
We quietly entered through a winding hall connected with floor-to-ceiling glass, separating out the sounds from the plaza while allowing daylight to filter in. We passed cubbies with prayer rugs ready to use, two people inside were finishing their morning prayers. Rose sat on the floor, me in a chair, and we exhaled, peaceful.
I studied the wall of religious texts behind me, in so many languages, from the Upanishad to Zohar, two full shelves of the Bible, and another half shelf of kid’s versions of the Bible.
I took my cues from Rose, when she was restored we geared up, ready to move through security and off to Denmark.
Billund LEGO House Terraces
Our full day in Billund was reserved to explore the LEGO House, an immersive experience for all things LEGO. Before the trip, I thought it was built from LEGO! In reality, the open concept architecture designed by Bjarke Ingles Group (BIG), used imperceptible ramping transitions from floor to floor felt like an angular LEGO version of the Guggenheim.
Following Rose’s research, we went to the store early, beating the late day rush. We had reservations long in advance for lunch at the robot café.
I hadn’t understood the scale of the place. This is not just a tour. It’s an all-ages hands on experience building many creations out of LEGO brick. I was committed to supporting Rose’s stamina for the full day and was surprised that I found myself searching for a break. We followed signs, opening a second-floor door to a roof terrace with a red floor.
It was the first in a series of exterior creative playgrounds that doubled as sensory breaks. We experienced them all, thankful for the fresh air, and emotional restoration to extend our day.
The first blue terrace matched Rose’s tongue after sucking on a blue lollipop. A system of curved metal bars looped around and over itself like curlicued ribbon.
Some were more playful, less contemplative: another blue terrace with springy floating surfboards; a rooftop swing set; a climbable building.
My favorite, likely due to the gob smacking colors as much as its solitude, the highest yellow space. My favorite puffy clouds dotted the blue sky.
Together we triumphed, brave enough to stand on a glass ceiling.
Leah Nagely Robbins is a writer, civil engineer, musician and mom. She spends her days imagining a livable future and implementing public infrastructure projects and peppering friends and colleagues with ’80s pop culture references.
