Bitter/Sweet

Part 1: The last two weeks

As my time in Amsterdam was winding down, I took advantage of the great weather and my impending departure to explore some more. Work has been fairly steady, but has still afforded me the time to head out on my bike on a regular basis. Having explored the countryside to the west, east and south, I decided it was time to head north.

I cycled across Amsterdam to the eastern side which allowed me the wonderful feeling of being a Porsche amongst the Pintos yet again. Strangely, that is a feeling I do not grow tired of. Once on the east side of town I crossed the Ij river to the north and started cycling up the coast of the Ijsselmeer which was once part of the ocean, but is now a lake due to dams in the north.

I was heading toward Marken; a small fishing village that sits at the south side of a horseshoe-shaped bay with Einkhuizen to the north (a town I visited earlier in the summer). When Dad was here in February we took a day trip to the charming village of Edam, which is in the same region as Marken, just a tad further north.

The long ride to Marken was unlike any of my other rides as I was hugging the coast almost the whole way which afforded some wonderful views. It was quite a different type of scenery to what I was used to (farms and grasslands) and also quite different to the jagged Vancouver coastline I was used to cycling. The path sat atop a dyke along the edge of the great body of water and it was one of the more pleasant trips I have taken.

Marken was an island until the 1950s when a land bridge was constructed to connect it to the mainland. As its lowlands, the houses outside the small fishing village are built in clusters and sit on wooden stilts to protect them from flooding.
Now, like any historic town in Holland, it has a large parking lot for tour buses that flood the city with tourists. Unfortunately for the residents, building their homes on poles doesn’t save them from this type of flooding.

The old fishing village was perfectly restored with a charming harbour with views across the bay to Einkhuizen. All the buildings were in pristine condition as if the whole town was recently restored and cleaned. Outside the town were large expanses of meadow and grasslands with grazing livestock and the occasional clustering of homes. I rode to the far side of the island (about the size of downtown Vancouver excluding Stanley Park) to the old lighthouse that sits on the northeast edge as a monument to days past when it sat on the edge of the ocean.

This was just one of the many rides I have taken in the past couple of weeks, which has been a great release of energy after trying to deal with the hassles of arranging this large move.

For starters, we cannot set up a phone or Internet because the tenant who is moving out does not know where she is moving to yet. Therefore, she was unable to offer a new address where she would like her services moved to. Which, in turn meant we couldn’t initiate new services. I have had countless conversations with her on the phone and she seems to have the intelligence and pragmatism of a partially retarded donkey. It looks like we will be in our new place for a week or two before we will finally have a working phone and Internet, greatly limiting my ability to work. There is only so much I can do from Internet cafes. This has been but one of the many sources of stress over the past month.

Last weekend Nina stayed home as she had some commitments and I also had my final turnaround with the cruise ship. However I did find myself with a free day on Saturday so I took my last day trip. This time I boarded a train for Apeldoorn. You may not know this town by name, but you might recall the tragedy that occurred this past April on Queen’s Day when someone drove their car into a large crowd in an attempt to mow down the royal family. Instead, he killed 8 innocent people and injured another 22. This happened in Apeldoorn. That was not why I was here. I came to visit Paleis Het Loo; the old summer home of the Dutch royal family. The royals stopped using it 25 years ago yet it has been left in the same state and is now a museum.

Before venturing inside, I visited the perfectly sculpted gardens around the back. I can only image the size of the small army of gardeners it must require to keep the grounds looking as immaculate as they do.

I was also astounded by the fact that it wasn’t a zoo of people. It was a Saturday afternoon in August and the weather was warm. I guess it just isn’t on most tourist’s radar, which was a bonus for me.

Inside, the rooms were ornate and on the level one would expect of a palace. It had been used by various generations of Dutch royals from the 1600s to the 1980s and had undergone various renovations along the way. Therefore the architecture and furnishings were diverse as they spanned the centuries.

One thing that really jumped out at me was the amount of faux decoration. Loads of walls and ceilings had marble trim, but it was all painted on. The only time I saw real marble was on the fireplaces.

In many ways, this palace reminded me of Versailles, but on a smaller scale. People rave about how magnificent Versailles is, but I wasn’t so taken with it. For starters, it was busier than a shopping mall a week before Christmas. But I was also disappointed that many of the room’s furnishings had been removed. At least in this palace, the rooms were all full of period fixtures, books, clocks and various other items as if it were still being lived in.

I have taken every opportunity to explore this region by bike since arriving back from Vancouver. I decided to map out the distances I have travelled and was a little surprised at how much distance I have actually covered. The black route on the map is my recent trip to Marken.

And that then got me thinking about all the travelling I have done in the Netherlands as a whole. When I came in 2007 I saw a decent chunk of the country and in the past year and a half, I took the opportunity to see some of the smaller towns and cities. When I actually took the time to map it out I was a little surprised to realize I have been to 21 towns, villages and cities.

Part 2: Now

I am very excited about the next stage of my life; this new adventure Nina and I are embarking on. And, I feel positive about the direction we are going in and how we will build our life together in Leicester. There is no doubt; I think this is a good thing.

But on the other side, part of me is a little sad about leaving Amsterdam. This city has hosted me for the better past of 1.5 years; a time I have thoroughly enjoyed. I feel blessed that I had this opportunity and I think I made good use of it. But as the days started to tick down it dawned on me that I am leaving Amsterdam. It feels like the time went by so quickly when in actual fact, my time there was almost double what it was originally supposed to be.

I spent my last two evenings riding through the centre of town, revisiting all the places I had been: Vondelpark, Leidseplein, Museumplein, Jordaan district, Red Light district and Rembrandtplein.

Two weeks earlier I had been to visit Nina and took with me a load of stuff and returned to Amsterdam with two empty suitcases. Foolishly, I thought I had enough room in those two suitcases for my remaining belongings. Friday morning was moving day and I quickly learned, I had more than I could carry. So I jettisoned anything I didn’t really want and crammed everything else into two overflowing suitcases. With the two suitcases attached — one piggy-backing on the other — plus a plastic bag attached with a pillow in one hand, my bike in the other and my computer bag strapped to my back, I left for the station. If it sounds like I was carrying a lot, then good. I was! The suitcases alone weighed a good 60-70 lbs.

Normally the ride to Nina’s is simple: I catch the metro to the train station and then two trains to arrive in Nina’s town. So including the metro, I would have to change trains twice, which was doable.

As it happened, there was some construction on the tracks the day I decided to move and the train ride would be interrupted by a bus ride in the middle to go around the construction. To make matters worse, it clearly said that bikes were not permitted on the bus.

Since I have done the route to Nina’s a hundred times, I know the schedule by heart. But, I decided to double check the schedule the night before, which was a bloody good thing otherwise I might not have noticed this problem until it was too late. I ended up having to go the roundabout way which involved 4 trains (as well as the metro) and made for a hectic and stressful trip. To make matters worse, one of my connections afforded me 2 minutes between trains and I just made it lugging all my stuff.

The only positive aspect to this journey from hell was my travel companion on the Amsterdam to Rotterdam leg. On all the trains, I stayed in the vestibule area at the end of the car as there was a small amount of room for bikes. On this one train I met a Spaniard with his bicycle who was in the Netherlands to spend a year studying in Delft. He had take the train to Brussels and spent the next 10 days cycling to, and then around, the Netherlands. As he was an architecture student we spoke about Amsterdam and Rotterdam architecture, about cycling in the Netherlands compared to Spain and, of course, about food. It was the only enjoyable hour of the journey.

One of the things I will really miss about coming to Germany each month is my observations of the German people. Before coming to Europe I didn’t have an accurate view of who the Germans are, as a people. Now, having spent a fair amount of time here, I have grown fond of them. When I have gone out with Nina and her friends, inevitably, they revert back to German and talk amongst themselves. I have taken pleasure in observing them, without understanding what they are saying, but instead studying their body language and nuances. As odd as this sounds, it will be a little weird being back in a city and country where I always understand what the people around me are saying.

A year and a half ago I went through the tedious and emotional process of packing up my life and saying goodbye to my friends and family. Now that I am in limbo in Germany for 4 days in between my (past) Amsterdam home and (future) Leicester home, I am observing Nina go through the same thing.

We organized a party Saturday night for all her friends to meet us at a restaurant in Aachen. We took a private room in the back of the place and had a wonderful evening. There was a lot of laughter and storied told, memories shared and some tears at the end of the evening. But, it was a nice way to say goodbye. For me, there was one couple in particular who I had grown really fond of; Rafael and Yvonne. They had become our couple friends who we saw on a somewhat regular basis. Rafael and Nina had gone to school together and were 1 day apart in age, so their friendship went back ages. But from my perspective, they were the two people who made me feel the most welcome and we shared a lot of the same interests, making time spent with them effortless and enjoyable.

Sunday was spent packing and getting ready for our move. Nina cleaned the inside of her car in preparation for the move while I dismantled my bike and wrapped up all the pieces to avoid getting grease everywhere. In the evening we went for dinner with Nina’s parents at a local restaurant, then returned home to call our new landlord to confirm the retarded donkey had, in fact, moved out and we were still on track to move in on Tuesday. The news was good, so we celebrated at the local Italian gelato shop.

Today, Monday, was the day to pack up Nina’s small car with everything; clothes, bike, bedding, books, kitchenware, knickknacks, computers etc. We lugged all our boxes, bags and suitcases to the garage and I politely asked Nina to go back upstairs. Nothing against her, but I know myself and spatial perception and a good eye are two of my strengths. I wanted to have a go at packing the car solo, and if I failed, then I would invite her input. Nina and her parents were doubtful we would get all our stuff in as well as the bike, but I had no intention of leaving it behind to be dealt with by a freight company. As it is, we had three boxes to ship over and I didn’t want to risk any damage to my bike. I am happy to report it took me less than a half hour and I was able to get in everything on my first try, save for one small bag of winter clothes that will get shipped.

In the afternoon we had coffee with her grandmother and then went to visit the horse she had been caring for and riding the past year. It was a nice break from all the hectic stuff associated with moving, to get out in the country for an hour and enjoy the fresh air and afternoon sunshine.

This summer Nina worked part-time at a local florist owned by a family friend. As a parting gift, she bought Nina a hammock for our courtyard as she recalled Nina raving about sitting in the hammock we had in the Amsterdam apartment. We dropped by to say goodbye and headed for the Italian ice cream shop as the last stop in our tour of goodbyes.

And with that, the Alistair in Amsterdam blog comes to an end.

Part 3: Next…

A new country, a new home, a new life together. And, a new blog.