Good Karma

We can stay!!
A few days ago we got the happy news that we can stay in our apartment. At last, a whole year's uninterrupted contract! I am very glad that those bloody moving boxes don't have to be packed/unpacked again. The mere sight of a cardboard box makes me break out in a cold sweat these days.

Mum has been over for the weekend, enjoying the sites and sounds of the Pijp and covering herself in mud in the garden. The poor thing came over for a couple of relaxing days and ended up pulling up weeds and stamping on snails. It wasn't all hard work though, and we managed to tear her away from the flower beds to check out the UitMarkt (an outdoor arts festival with lots of 'sneak previews' of forthcoming cultural events to sample). There were some very polished performances going on, which was a marked contrast to the Albert Cuyp summer street festival we went to the weekend before. It was pretty surreal watching the local Hare Krishna band demonstrate their chanting skills whilst the local 'mad market man' danced around in his purple ski suit. He seemed very pleased with all the attention. I'm not going to make any negative comments about the music however, because I guess I'll create bad karma and come back in my next life as a one of those snails.

Twinnies on a bike

My twin sister (Claire) and her husband (Neil) flew in at the weekend to be dragged around Amsterdam for a couple of days. We sent them back to Schiphol on Sunday night with grazed elbows from roller blading round Vondelpark and bruised bottoms from having to sit on the back of our bikes. Unfortunately all the cycle hire shops had signs outside saying 'Sorry - No More Bikes' (a peak-season problem) so they had to make do with the less comfortable option of hitching a lift. I'm very proud of my newfound ability to balance a bike with two people on it. This was a skill that developed slowly after around an hour of wobbling precariously towards cars and trams. I'm surprised Claire was brave enough to keep getting back on.

The roller blading demanded a similar amount of bravery, especially from poor Neil who had never worn skates of any kind before. We all managed to make it round Vondelpark in one piece though and had lots of fun in the process.

Watching Hairy Majorettes Float By

Another weekend has, unfortunately, turned into a Monday, which is a shame considering the sun is still shining over Amsterdam. As always, the weekend was over far too quickly. On Saturday it was the Gay Pride canal procession – one of Amsterdam’s more colourful annual events. We cycled to the banks of the Prinsengracht to watch various amusing sights float past before our eyes. Highlights for me were the majorettes in fluffy hats who marched up and down the boat twirling their pink batons, proudly displaying hairy bellies and handlebar moustaches. There were also the ‘Gaydiators’ – a boatful of seriously worked-out torsos, oiled up and gleaming in the sun, sporting extremely minimalist Roman outfits. There were also the guys and gals who had lovingly made false penises and sewn them onto the front of their tights. Every now and again a large cardboard fig leaf would be cast aside to show a collection of fabric genitalia. The attention to detail was splendid and the row of little girls who were sat along the canalside next to me felt compelled to cover their eyes as soon as the boat appeared.

Yesterday the temperatures soared to 32 degrees, transforming the metro trains into sticky little ovens and rendering it impossible to walk on the wooden deck in the garden barefooted without doing a funny little dance. I borrowed a pair of rollerblades from P’s sister (Ghislaine) as I’m desperate to have a go. A nagging pain in my back has stopped me (hopefully temporarily) from running and it seemed like a good alternative. Once I see the chiropractor on Wednesday I’m going to get myself down to Vondelpark for some serious skating, but in the meantime I had to make do with a scaled-down version: the living room. Peter dug out his skates and we had ourselves a little roller disco.

Coming back to work seemed like a dull alternative today.


roller skating in the living room 

Cruel Dutchman

Peter discovered the baby spiders last night and I'm afraid to report that they have now taken up residence in the hoover bag. I just hope that they don't suffer from dust allergies.

Saving Non-Edible Spiders

The sun is shining gloriously over Holland and it looks like summer is here at last after months of drizzle. I'm sitting here enjoying a late breakfast (late shift today) of scrambled eggs and watching a mummy spider guard her 50 miniscule baby spiders on our apartment wall. I don't have the heart to evict them. The place is becoming more like a zoo every day.

We had a fun weekend enjoying the sunshine from the terraces of Haarlem baseball stadium. It was the Haarlem Honkbal (Baseball) Week and we had tickets to the final on Sunday (Netherlands v. Cuba). Despite forgetting suncream, a hat and something to cover my 'English' shoulders I had a great time. After each innings the Dutch supporters stood up to sing a collection of stupid songs (accompanied by lots of bum wiggling and arm waving). The most memorable was the 'Pizza Hoot, Pizza Hoot, Kentucky Fried Chicken, MacDooooonalds' song, complete with actions. A narrow second was 'Heb je even voor mij?' ('Have you a moment for me?') which is possibly the most catchy and also the most annoying song ever written. I made sure that I joined in with the compulsory greasy hot-dog eating, to make the American Experience complete. The game was very entertaining, mostly due to the fact that the home team were victorious and that I had Peter to untangle the rules. One of our party, Salvador, managed to catch a ball that missed the field and whizzed over the crowd's heads. He is now the (extremely) proud owner of his very-own souvenir ball and a bruised palm.

After the game we went to Specktakel in Haarlem- a great restaurant which serves all kinds of dishes from around the world. Between us we devoured antelope, kangaroo, octopus, sushi, rose-flavoured ice cream and the yummiest crème brulee. Obviously my empathy for animal-kind doesn't extend to the edible variety.