This week has been a rollercoaster. I don't think there are enough words to describe how honoured and flattered I am to have won a Wattys Award for what is essentially just some of my memories.

So, I'll just take this moment to thank all of you for the support and I'll hope to share many more stories with you.

Because deep down we all have an archaeologist living within us. We all have that inherent curiosity to find out where we came from, uncover the truth, and protect the traditions that are dear to us. I believe that it is in people's nature to protect that which is dear to them. Whether that be living beings, objects or traditions. It is also in our nature to search for answers, solve the puzzle, so to speak. So, in a way, we all have an archaeologist living within us whose just waiting to come out.

And seeing people discover their inner archaeologist is one of the best parts of my job. You could say it is the reason I do what I do. As a Public Archaeologist, it is beautiful to be the one who's there when someone sets foot on an excavation for the first time and you see that sparkle in their eyes when they hold an ancient artefact. It is a reminder that although some of these things might seem mundane to an archaeologist who does these things daily, it is something almost magical to an outsider. And with that in mind, I would like to remind you, my reader, that your own life's story is worth telling. No matter how mundane it may seem to you, it might be incredibly fascinating to someone else.

But now onto the story of today, or rather, stories. Because there are many times I've seen people discover their inner archaeologist. But these two are the most notable instances.

The first time, was when I myself was still an archaeology student. It was after my second year that I found myself with summer in which I had nothing to do. Until I stumbled upon an Archaeology Field School that would excavate that summer. The excavation was of a boat known as a Cog. A cog is a single mast type of ship that first appeared in the 10th century and was widely used in sea-going trade in medieval Europe. The cog that we would excavate had been stuck on a sand ridge and abandoned by its crew. Because it was presumed that the ship was relatively empty and in a bad condition the excavation was given to the field school who allowed both archaeologists and volunteers to work together on this excavation. So, I convinced a close friend of mine to join me on this excavation. She had been super interested in archaeology and would constantly ask me about it ever since I had started my major, but for whatever reason, she didn't think she had what it takes to become an archaeologist herself.

Well, I'm pleased to say that drastically changed during the excavation of the cog. Where in the beginning she wouldn't leave my side and constantly ask me if she was digging right, holding the trowel right and so on, after about a week she was growing confident and bolder by the day. I can still hear the yelp she let out when she found her first bones. Or rather, fish bones since it took only a second pair of eyes to identify that she was looking at a fish spine. But that didn't matter to her, she cherished that little fish like it was her baby. And as luck would have it, underneath that little fish lay one of the only artefacts we recovered from the cog; a silver fork. Like me with my wine bottle, she still describes finding that fork like finding the holy grail. It was a rush and afterwards, she knew she wanted to do this all the time. She switched to my university the next year and is now one of my colleagues.

The second time was during my time working for an organization that helped to educate the public about archaeology in an easy and accessible way. We would get some of the findings from the excavation during the building of a new metro line in Amsterdam and were permitted to let the public help us sort out these findings in the museum of Archaeology. Many of the museum's visitors would come by and help us for a couple of hours while we told them about the excavation and archaeology in general. One of these visitors was none other than my mother. She came by to check up on me and I offered her to join me with reassembling some of the Delfish blue plates that had come in. At first, she denied the offer and was hesitant because she was afraid she would drop something. But soon her curiosity took over and she started to collect a couple of shards. As soon as she realized that there were shards of multiple plates because some of the decorations didn't match together she went in full sherlock mode and didn't stop until she had completely assembled three plates. Some of my colleagues even joked that there was definitely some archaeology blood in my family because my mom was in a complete trans. And three guesses who showed up the next day to reassemble some more artefacts?

For the duration of the project, my mom came by regularly, even bringing friends along to proudly show off the plates that she had assembled. I was a really proud daughter, still am.