Friday, 25 August 2017 to Thursday, 31 August 2017
We had to wake up at 05:00 in order to leave the hotel by 06:00 to be at the bus station at 06:30 to get on the bus to Amsterdam at 07:00. Easy… did I just say easy?

The Paris metro was never designed with Adri and I in mind, we were not about to carry those heavy bags up and down metro stairs… again. So we opted for a taxi this time. Last night I tried to reserve a taxi for 06:00 this morning but was told it was not possible, I had to make the reservation at least 12 hours in advance. Hmm… okay? I let it go. So it was 05:45 when I made my way downstairs to the lobby to order a taxi. My worst fears were realized when I walked into a pitch dark and empty reception area. There was no one and nothing there! I must have let out a few spicy words a tad too loud because the next moment I heard a rumbling and a grumbling from the couch at the far end of the room. Like a scene from the Hunchback of Notre-Dame, a crouched figure came shuffling towards me in the dark. It was the old man doing night duty… or not.

The first few minutes of putting my request to him was wasted while he was doing his damnedest to wake up, wiping his eyes silly and trying to find a language to communicate in. When he finally got it that I wanted a taxi at 06:00 he said “Come back at 06:00, then I’ll order the taxi”. “But… but… but…” I started, but he interjected with a finger pointing downstairs “Go and have breakfast”. By now I was fuming, spitting and spluttering “But you don’t understand, I want to leave at 06:00!” Again the response was “Go and have breakfast”. I went upstairs still fuming, dragged Adri and the bags downstairs, and went for breakfast.

No sooner were we in the breakfast room when he came downstairs and announced that the taxi had arrived. He even suggested I offer the taxi driver coffee while we have a quick bite. And all the while this old man was just trying to be helpful and nice!

Of course there was no time to have breakfast, it was now 06:15, time was ticking. I took a baguette, sliced it in half, slapped a lot of ham and cheese on it, Adri took some fruit and stuff, and we were outta there, breakfast was now padkos (food for the road).

We scrambled aboard the taxi; it was now 06:15. I said nothing but gave the taxi driver my sternest hurry-it-up-will-you-please look, he seemed to understand. Our destination of the Bercy bus station drew a complete blank. My heart sank into an ocean of despair. After a number of to and fro he exclaimed, “Aah, boooss station, Bercy boooss station!”  My heart rose, but it was to be short-lived.

My heart once again took a dive into that same ocean a few minutes later when we stopped at a red traffic light and the car died on us. It… just… died… “Not this, not now!!” I screamed silently to myself. The light turned green and we effortlessly zoomed off… we were in an electric car. Now don’t look at me in that accusatory tone, I’ve never been in an electric car before. In my state of despair it could just as well have been an electric chair.

It was 06:30 when we stopped at the Bercy Boooss Station, only one problem, it was not where we were supposed to get the bus. Ouch! On enquiring the taxi man was pointed in a direction and a whole discussion took place as to how to get there. The taxi man looked flummoxed, got back in the car, parked out of the way of the busses, and ordered us to get out, pointing us in a vague direction we had to walk… down stairs etc., exactly what we tried to avoid!

To add insult to injury, he charged us an €8 booking fee, “but… but… but… “ we did not book a taxi, he was just called by the hotel’s reception! There was no time to argue and he knew it…arsehole! I have said this before and I will say this again and it won’t be the last time, “I hate taxis!”

We stumbled down the stairs, totally disoriented as to where to go. Walking around in circles we finally started recognising some buildings from when we arrived here a week earlier. We only just made our bus.

The bus ride was largely uneventful except for the excessively large lady that sat directly behind me. She insisted on putting her knees up against the back of my chair, pummelling my back beyond recognition. I tried a different tack and put my chair back which forced her to extract he knees from my back, but then I had to contend with her forehead on my headrest. I was never going to win that battle.

We stopped off at a rest area off the highway and then in Antwerp for 30 minutes where we finally had the opportunity for our first coffee of the day. From there it was on to Utrecht and finally on to Amsterdam.

We were now in Holland, or is that the Netherlands? Well, referring to the Netherlands is politically and otherwise more correct as it refers to all 12 provinces that make up the country while Holland speaks to only the two provinces of Noord- and Zuid-Holland. But, as we have come to realize, even the Dutch use the names interchangeably, so who are we to be concerned about it?

Ashley and Remko insisted on picking us up at the bus station, we were to spend the evening with them at their home in Weesp, and how great it was to see these two again after too many years!

Weesp is a beautiful little town a half hour or so southeast of central Amsterdam and this weekend just happened to be their annual Sluis en Bruggen feest. We were greeted by hundreds of stalls along Weesp’s roads selling from leather goods to foods to clothing to everything else imaginable. Beers were of course one of the main features, I already liked the place.

 

It was 17:00 when we got to the train station where we loaded credit onto our public transport cards which Remko gracefully arranged for us ahead of time and soon enough we were carried off to Amsterdam to meet with our new landlords before they leave for their holiday in the morning.

Now each country and mostly each city in each country’s public transport works differently. In the Netherlands you have one credit type card (OV chipkaart) that you top up which I believe has to have a minimum credit of €20 at all times. This card can be used across all modes of transport which is rather convenient. One thing that we were urged to remember is that you have to swipe the card on both embarkation and disembarkation. If you do not swipe when getting off your transport you may find that you have a problem next time you want to embark, the system will think you are still on that train you boarded to Rotterdam a week ago!

We met up with Doug and Brent whose place we’d be looking after for the next three weeks while they take a well deserved break in France and Spain. And what lovely people they turned out to be. They are originally from America but have now made Amsterdam their home with their two lovely and easy going cats, Simon and Marcel, who we will be looking after as well.

After a wonderful chat and drinks and snacks and being shown the ropes around the place, we were back on the train to Weesp by 19:30. Meeting up with Ashley and Remko we had something to eat and drink and finally got home, thoroughly tired after a rather extended day.

After a lovely breakfast Saturday morning and another walk around Weesp – Ashley was doing last minute shopping before the start of their holiday to South Africa next Thursday – we were off to Naarden. This beautiful little town is home to the Nederlands Vestingmuseum (Netherlands Fortress Museum) where we wandered through, very interesting indeed, after which we did some strolling around and about town.

Our next stop was Muiden where the Muiderslot (Muiden Castle) is situated. We walked around this beautiful town, watched the locks transport boats up and down the canal and finally had a well deserved drink at a restaurant right on the canal. We sat in that sun, soaking up the scene, this was life.

The landscapes around these little villages we passed are just amazing. They’re all dressed in different shades of green with houses built from different shades of small brown or reddish bricks with water all around, picture perfect.

It was mid afternoon when we drove back to Weesp to pick up our luggage after which we were delivered to our new home in Amsterdam. We made arrangements to see these two again on Monday.

We entered our home with Simon and Marcel greeting us cheerfully, Doug and Brent had already left for their jaunt to France and Spain. Adri started unpacking some stuff while I got us connected to the internet. It was late afternoon when we went down to the Jumbo Supermarket just down the road from us. We stocked up on food and drinks and found that the prices were similar but slightly less than in France. And that’s always a good thing, right? Curious thing though, we understand that restaurant prices were higher here than in France, and the prices in France are already high!

 

It was later in the evening when I could confirm that the wifi in our new apartment was pretty good. I watched the rugby match between SA and Argentina uninterrupted, the first time I could do such for quite a while. I was happy to see SA winning by a decent margin, but truth be told, I don’t think they’ve really been tested yet, we’ll see how they fare against New Zealand in a few weeks’ time.

After a hectic few days behind us we slept in on Sunday until really late, I mean really late. It was late afternoon when we took a walk to familiarize ourselves with our new surroundings in the Rietlandpark area in the eastern part of Amsterdam.

We walked up along the southern shore of the IJhaven canal, crossed the Jan Schaeferbrug to Java Island and walked back along the northern shore of the IJhaven canal. We marvelled at the boats and barges parked alongside the canal, some unused looking old and scrappy, some newly painted and done up, some have been converted into homes and restaurants; there was even a bed and breakfast barge.

We came upon a park-like area called Bogertuin (Bogor garden) with green grass and tall green trees. A multitude of younger people were gathered in groups – enjoying the stunning weather we had brought along for them – either tanning, chatting, having barbecues, many were even swimming in the canal. We sat down on a park bench watching this wonderful spectacle unfold before us… so relaxing. I longed to hold a beer in my hand but there were no supermarkets right there… pity.

After spending an hour or so beer-less we wandered off through the groups, passing by where people were having barbecues and those wonderful whiffs sent my senses reeling, I needed a braai

And so it was that we got home to a text message from Ashley, we were invited to their house for a braai Monday evening. How did she know!

Monday we lazed about during the day, Adri finalised the unpacking and did some washing while I did some work. It was nearly 17:00 that we made our way to the tram and train to Weesp.

As we got onto the tram a young girl, in an attempt to take the seat in front of us, bumped her head against the overhead iron beam, with such impact, it nearly knocked the tram of its rails. Giving her a sympathetic but questioning look she assured me she was okay, with eyes spinning in their sockets and tears streaming down her cheeks.  She was still nurturing that spot when we reached our destination… poor lass.

The braai at Ashley and Remko, not surprisingly, started with a beer – a craft beer nogal (mind you) – and then I moved on to what the ladies were having, gin and tonic. Remko has a rather heavy hand, his mix is one part Tanqueray gin to two parts of tonic, numerous slices of lemon with just enough ice… ah, that was good “I’ll have another please!” Two of those down the hatch we then moved on to red wine and I found the Spanish Rioja especially intoxicating. This all while nibbling on snackies of cheese and salami type discs and olives and…

This all happened while the Weber braai was doing its thing in the background… lamb ribs and rundvlees (beef) sausages were served with a multitude of delicious accompaniments. Man, was this good or what! My first braai in a long… long while.

It was around 23:05 that we walked back to the train station, it was 23:21 on the platform clock visible from the steps we were ascending, departure time specified as 23:22. I assessed the timing situation and quickly realised I had to hurry Adri on if we were to make this train, the next one was 20 minutes away. As I got my aim steady to press the button to open the train’s door, it zipped quietly past my fingertips. The clock had just ticked over to 23:22 and these trains are dead on time, just like the Spanish Train, fortunately this one runs between Weesp and Amsterdam, and not between Guadalquivir and old Saville.

We went shopping at the Albert Heijn supermarket today. We bought a bunch of stuff and when it came time to pay I pay I pulled out my Visa credit card which was met by a stop hand signal. “Sorry, we don’t accept Visa.” “What, in this day and age of plastic?” I took out a Master card but that was only snubbed. You are directed to an ATM located in the store where you can of course draw cash. This rather pissed me off. I realize they’re trying to save on bank costs, but this I thought was kinda mean spirited, Jumbo quite happily accepts my credit card. So, Albert Heijn, I will use you only for emergency items, such as Thai green curry, Massaman and Penang curry pastes that I spotted on their shelves.

Ashley and Remko came for supper at our place, they were keen to see our new apartment and Remko, who has a soft spot for cats, wanted to meet Simon and Marcel. They arrived just past 06:00 and we quickly continued our conversations from the last few days. Beers were opened, red wine was consumed, snacks were followed by supper of a mean cottage pie and grilled vegetables followed by apple pie with ice cream as well as strawberries with ice cream.

Because they drove here directly after work Remko, the designated driver, could not indulge but Ashley made up for him! It was a wonderful and relaxing evening and all too soon they had to leave, once again we had to say our sad goodbyes to friends, it never gets easier.

Wednesday we woke up with rain all around, the sky was grey and it looked pretty miserable out, but of course inside it was cool and cosy.

We had a welcome return to the yoga mats albeit only for a 30 minute session. Our last yoga session was before Dries and Estee visited us in Lyon a few weeks back and of course yoga was not on our minds in Paris. Yoga welcomed us with open arms as it always does; it really felt great to be back at it again.

The rest of the day was spent with some frustrating admin and I could not help but think that there must be a better way of handling it… It simply never ceases.

The weather on Thursday was still at odds with what I would have expected of early August in Europe. After a few light showers in the early morning it cleared up although there was still a crispy coolness in the air.

It was after midday that we dressed appropriately, took Tram 26 to Amsterdam Central station, and walked down Damrak Street which ends in Dam Square. The street in lined with curio shops, cheese shops, restaurants and tourists and while walking one frequently gets a whiff here and there of marijuana fumes, which of course is legal here. Standing in one place for too long might get you high!

At Dam Square, where the Koninklijk Paleis (Royal Palace), the National Monument and Madame Tussauds can be found, we took a dogleg to the right and left and entered Kalverstraat, a pedestrian walkway, with many high and medium end shops, mostly clothing and sneaker shops interspersed with takeaway joints (no pun intended). We dipped into a variety of such shops here and there for no apparent reason other than just to browse.

 

Reaching the end of Kalverstraat we browsed through the Delft shop there, then walked down Reguliersbreestraat until we reached Rembrandtplein where street performers were showing off their dancing skills to music of Gloria Estefan and such in front of the Rembrandt statue, and the fast gathering crowd.

We ambled back up Reguliersdwarsstraat took a right and left and ended up at the floating flower market on Singelstraat. This market sells anything from tulips to orchids and curios to clogs. As we walked on from the flower market the weather turned from cool to cold, I rolled down the sleeves of my long sleeve shirt and hugged my arms against my chest; I would be warm enough until we reached home… just.

We raided the Jumbo Supermarket and got away with a bottled curry paste, chicken fillets, basmati rice and readymade naan, tonight we were going Indian. The curry was great, the naan was not.

Amsterdam and indeed the Netherlands are known for their love of bicycles and of course they are everywhere. I find that rather enchanting but what I’ve come to realize is that the Dutch see pedestrians in a very different light as the rest of Europe. Throughout Europe pedestrians are protected game, not so here… it seems. Us pedestrian mortals seem to have no right, or right of way, and it is indeed the trains, trams, trucks, tricycles, cycles, cars and such that seem to be favoured. One has to step lively, having to watch out for an ongoing something, anything on wheels, and make oneself scarce. A word of warning when visiting Amsterdam, and I am not kidding, watch your step or you will get run over. Or maybe it’s just me…

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