Dutch-country
Ok, so this update too is late. Well, tough.
As I mentioned in my last post, I decided to head to the airport early to avoid rushing. Well, I decided to check out postage costs for postcards, then have a cup of coffee and check my email...and missed the train I'd hoped to catch. But no problem! There was one every 15 minutes or so. So I jumped on the next one, got to Luton Parkway and took the shuttle bus, checked my bag and spent a little while writing postcards and eating some kosher shop-sandwiches I'd picked up at King's Cross (BTW, platform 9/10 is being renovated, so they've 'moved' platform nine-and-three-quarters for the HP fans) before heading in. Just as I got through immigration/passport control/security they announced my flight, so perfect timing! The flight to the Netherlands was insanely short. We had the seatbelt sign off for about 13 minutes (I know because I was trying to watch an episode of Chuck) before they announced that we were beginning our descent into Schipol. It probably took just as long to get through Schipol airport, get euros and buy a simcard and get onto a train to Arnhem! I met Lale (my friend who offered me last-minute accomodation because she's awesome, to refresh) and we went to her place and collapsed!
To be honest, what I did in the Netherlands probably wouldn't be of much interest to the lj-reading-public. I spent Wednesday wandering around the center of the Arnhem, where I'd lived for a year in 2003. It was strange to see what had changed (there was a big new shopping centre where I'd helped one of my host mums at an archeological dig) and what hadn't (they were still building up the train station). I had a coffee in the Korenmaarkt, a place where I'd dreamt about last year. I also organised to visit my hosts whose numbers still worked. The others...were more difficult to get in touch with. I finally got an idea from the ex-head of Rotary, whose mobile number from 2003 fortunately still worked. Unfortunately he was actually in Switzerland and possibly also in a meeting when I called. But he called me back, and put me onto someone who gave me their numbers, luckily! So I spent Thursday wandering around, seeing one host family and a woman I'd known from the synagogue and organising meetings with one of the other families; the last (who were actually the first I stayed with and unfortunately were my favourites) were going on holiday for the long weekend and we missed each other.
Friday was another host family in the morning, as well as an unfortunate event. I arrived at my hosts' 10 minutes early and decided to go and walk through the little park that was by their house that I'd liked when I was there. I noticed as I did that there was still ice in the stream; very cool. So I went and took photos, and decided that a really cool photo would be me with one foot on the land and one on the ice. But the ice was not as thick as I'd thought, and I went straight through. So I walked back to my hosts' house, one foot soaked to the knee in dirty, icy water, and then waited a few minutes or so for my hosts to turn up. Then sat around in wet jeans and one sock/shoe, talking to a man I hadn't seen for >6 years until his wife, always more garrulous, turned up. I then went back to Lale's place and dried my shoe (and my camera - I'd only dropped it on the ice, but it wasn't focussing, or really turning on regularly, but it came good, fortunately) on the heater before heading to Nijmegen for the Sabbath, as I often had while I was there in 2003. I spent a little while before the Sabbath wandering through the town, and more on the day itself, trying to walk off a bit of the food I'd been scoffing all day. I saw some interesting things, such as a wall installation of dismembered shop mannequins and bathroom furniture and some oddly cute things, such people using guinea pigs to represent politicians as the government fell. There were some people I'd known 6 years ago, some people I'd never met before, an English family passing through, a cute 19 year old Russian boy (and his not so cute Dutch friend), and an odd older woman who wanted my e-mail and tended to invade personal space. I spent Sunday morning at an open-air museum (which was the literal translation of it's Dutch name, the Openluchmuseum) where they've built/moved and restored a bunch of old Dutch houses and farms and shops and windmills and such things from around the country. I went from there to another meeting with some other hosts, then back home to pack before heading off back to Nijmegen with Lale for a drink and to see The Imaginarium of Dr Parnassus (because in the Netherlands it's no big deal to go to another town to see a movie). The next day I took the train to Amsterdam where I met some more old friends, bought some Dutch cheese, then wandered around and around the Dam Square area near my hostel looking for a way to keep the cheese cold because my hostel didn't have a fridge I could use. By the time it was all sorted out it was too late to get any decent time out of going to a museum and it was pissing with rain, so I just got some dinner and went to see Sherlock Holmes instead. I was tempted to go partake of some of the more interesting services on offer (my hostel was in the redlight district) but I was alone, tired and had to catch a train to Paris the next day.
And so I did. It wasn't raining so I wandered around a little before heading to the central train station for my train. It was a bit nerve wracking because there'd been an train accident in Belgium about a week before and the trains going to Paris had been cut down from 20 to 6. But mine was not only still running but it also didn't require switching trains and I got into Paris safe and sound, albeit late. And I picked up my suitcase from my uncle's, had dinner, half-packed and sat around watching Eddie Izzard clips on YouTube until late. The next day I didn't do much except wander down to the Marais for a bit and pick up some food for dinner, before making my way to Charles De Gaulle Airport for my once-again changed flight (fortunately later this time). I had to repack my suitcase for the first time - 26 kg was a bit much for them to let me get away with, so my carry on bag weight increased dramatically. But the flights all went well, barring an almost missed flight in Singapore - I knew they closed the gate 10 mins before boarding but forgot that they board there 30 minutes before the flight! The flight was mostly empty and I had a whole row to myself (although there was a cute 4 year-old behind me who I played with for a bit and then wanted attention for the rest of the flight) but couldn't sleep. Picked up by the parentals at 12:30ish after dashing through customs, and back in Aus!
I've been really busy since I came back, but I'll write more on that later.
I really enjoyed coming back to the Netherlands. It was like coming home, in many ways. My Dutch came back very easily - I was mistaken for a Dutch-person by a Dutch airhostess, and I think by the museum desk-guy, because he gave me a Dutch map and I had to ask for an English one (I find it difficult to read Dutch and can't be bothered making an effort) and that was all very flattering. I'd like to go back again, perhaps a little sooner than 6 years this time. But I probably wouldn't want to live there...it's just too Dutch!
As I mentioned in my last post, I decided to head to the airport early to avoid rushing. Well, I decided to check out postage costs for postcards, then have a cup of coffee and check my email...and missed the train I'd hoped to catch. But no problem! There was one every 15 minutes or so. So I jumped on the next one, got to Luton Parkway and took the shuttle bus, checked my bag and spent a little while writing postcards and eating some kosher shop-sandwiches I'd picked up at King's Cross (BTW, platform 9/10 is being renovated, so they've 'moved' platform nine-and-three-quarters for the HP fans) before heading in. Just as I got through immigration/passport control/security they announced my flight, so perfect timing! The flight to the Netherlands was insanely short. We had the seatbelt sign off for about 13 minutes (I know because I was trying to watch an episode of Chuck) before they announced that we were beginning our descent into Schipol. It probably took just as long to get through Schipol airport, get euros and buy a simcard and get onto a train to Arnhem! I met Lale (my friend who offered me last-minute accomodation because she's awesome, to refresh) and we went to her place and collapsed!
To be honest, what I did in the Netherlands probably wouldn't be of much interest to the lj-reading-public. I spent Wednesday wandering around the center of the Arnhem, where I'd lived for a year in 2003. It was strange to see what had changed (there was a big new shopping centre where I'd helped one of my host mums at an archeological dig) and what hadn't (they were still building up the train station). I had a coffee in the Korenmaarkt, a place where I'd dreamt about last year. I also organised to visit my hosts whose numbers still worked. The others...were more difficult to get in touch with. I finally got an idea from the ex-head of Rotary, whose mobile number from 2003 fortunately still worked. Unfortunately he was actually in Switzerland and possibly also in a meeting when I called. But he called me back, and put me onto someone who gave me their numbers, luckily! So I spent Thursday wandering around, seeing one host family and a woman I'd known from the synagogue and organising meetings with one of the other families; the last (who were actually the first I stayed with and unfortunately were my favourites) were going on holiday for the long weekend and we missed each other.
Friday was another host family in the morning, as well as an unfortunate event. I arrived at my hosts' 10 minutes early and decided to go and walk through the little park that was by their house that I'd liked when I was there. I noticed as I did that there was still ice in the stream; very cool. So I went and took photos, and decided that a really cool photo would be me with one foot on the land and one on the ice. But the ice was not as thick as I'd thought, and I went straight through. So I walked back to my hosts' house, one foot soaked to the knee in dirty, icy water, and then waited a few minutes or so for my hosts to turn up. Then sat around in wet jeans and one sock/shoe, talking to a man I hadn't seen for >6 years until his wife, always more garrulous, turned up. I then went back to Lale's place and dried my shoe (and my camera - I'd only dropped it on the ice, but it wasn't focussing, or really turning on regularly, but it came good, fortunately) on the heater before heading to Nijmegen for the Sabbath, as I often had while I was there in 2003. I spent a little while before the Sabbath wandering through the town, and more on the day itself, trying to walk off a bit of the food I'd been scoffing all day. I saw some interesting things, such as a wall installation of dismembered shop mannequins and bathroom furniture and some oddly cute things, such people using guinea pigs to represent politicians as the government fell. There were some people I'd known 6 years ago, some people I'd never met before, an English family passing through, a cute 19 year old Russian boy (and his not so cute Dutch friend), and an odd older woman who wanted my e-mail and tended to invade personal space. I spent Sunday morning at an open-air museum (which was the literal translation of it's Dutch name, the Openluchmuseum) where they've built/moved and restored a bunch of old Dutch houses and farms and shops and windmills and such things from around the country. I went from there to another meeting with some other hosts, then back home to pack before heading off back to Nijmegen with Lale for a drink and to see The Imaginarium of Dr Parnassus (because in the Netherlands it's no big deal to go to another town to see a movie). The next day I took the train to Amsterdam where I met some more old friends, bought some Dutch cheese, then wandered around and around the Dam Square area near my hostel looking for a way to keep the cheese cold because my hostel didn't have a fridge I could use. By the time it was all sorted out it was too late to get any decent time out of going to a museum and it was pissing with rain, so I just got some dinner and went to see Sherlock Holmes instead. I was tempted to go partake of some of the more interesting services on offer (my hostel was in the redlight district) but I was alone, tired and had to catch a train to Paris the next day.
And so I did. It wasn't raining so I wandered around a little before heading to the central train station for my train. It was a bit nerve wracking because there'd been an train accident in Belgium about a week before and the trains going to Paris had been cut down from 20 to 6. But mine was not only still running but it also didn't require switching trains and I got into Paris safe and sound, albeit late. And I picked up my suitcase from my uncle's, had dinner, half-packed and sat around watching Eddie Izzard clips on YouTube until late. The next day I didn't do much except wander down to the Marais for a bit and pick up some food for dinner, before making my way to Charles De Gaulle Airport for my once-again changed flight (fortunately later this time). I had to repack my suitcase for the first time - 26 kg was a bit much for them to let me get away with, so my carry on bag weight increased dramatically. But the flights all went well, barring an almost missed flight in Singapore - I knew they closed the gate 10 mins before boarding but forgot that they board there 30 minutes before the flight! The flight was mostly empty and I had a whole row to myself (although there was a cute 4 year-old behind me who I played with for a bit and then wanted attention for the rest of the flight) but couldn't sleep. Picked up by the parentals at 12:30ish after dashing through customs, and back in Aus!
I've been really busy since I came back, but I'll write more on that later.
I really enjoyed coming back to the Netherlands. It was like coming home, in many ways. My Dutch came back very easily - I was mistaken for a Dutch-person by a Dutch airhostess, and I think by the museum desk-guy, because he gave me a Dutch map and I had to ask for an English one (I find it difficult to read Dutch and can't be bothered making an effort) and that was all very flattering. I'd like to go back again, perhaps a little sooner than 6 years this time. But I probably wouldn't want to live there...it's just too Dutch!