It seems that I don't just get Laetitia Griffith's phone calls, I also get her mail. This is altogether more fun than the calls as the mail is less abusive and contains free stuff.
I had an invitation through the mail inviting me (plus guest) to the star-studded premiere of the Christmas Circus at the Royal Theatre Carre in Amsterdam. The presence of my name-sake was required on the red carpet and I didn't want to dissappoint the paparazi, so I RSVP'd....
'Dear Sir,
Many thanks for your kind invitation to the premiere of the Christmas Circus. I would love to attend and bring a friend. Please note that you made an error with the spelling of my name, which is Lucy, not Laetitia.
Kind regards,
Miss L.Griffith'
The promoters were gracious enough to admit they made a mistake but to offer me the tickets anyway, so me and my friend Debbie enjoyed a lovely evening in this gorgeous theatre for free. Judging by the photographers outside I'm guessing there were a few household names there, but to be honest I couldn't pick out a real Dutch celebrity if they came over, hit me on the head and asked for their ticket back.
The circus was great fun - camp costumes, Italian acrobats splitting their trousers, a man doing really scary things on a trapeze which I couldn't even watch, sea lions that could lift a woman on their nose (please no emails from animal rights campaigners), some Russians doing fantastic things with see-saws and all manner of weird and wonderful delights. Sorry Laetitia, you missed out on this one!
Friday, December 22, 2006
Thursday, December 21, 2006
Little Pudding
Below is a pic of my Nephew Oscar and his little friend Iva. They won a fancy dress competition yesterday by dressing up as Christmas Puddings. Can't wait to see the little fellow when I fly home on Sunday! He gets cuter by the day.
Saturday, December 16, 2006
Flying High
I've had an amazing afternoon, courtesy of my new housemate Claython. He recently got his pilot's licence so is now able to take a few friends flying whenever he fancies. I was lucky enough to get one of the four seats on today's exclusive flight.
It was a grey and rainy day when we arrived at Lelystad airport at lunchtime, but after an hour or two's wait the weather started to clear and we were ready to go. I must admit, I was feeling a little nervous as I climbed into a plane which looked like a 1950's car with wings. It was a very different sensation than boarding with KLM, and as the four of us squashed into the tiny cockpit (Clay had briefed us on how to open the door in case of a crash landing) I tried to fight the instinct to run off and hide in the hangar! I needn't have worried though, as Claython showed all the professionalism of an experienced pilot, making sure that we were all prepared for take off. Before I had time to think about it we were suddenly in the air, with our pilot chatting confidently away to the air-traffic control guys in the Schiphol tower, on the off-chance they would grant us permission to fly low over Amsterdam. It worked like a dream, and before we knew it we were pointing out the landmarks over the City. It was such a surreal experience to be so close to the rooftops and to pick out small details you never see from the height of a big aircraft. I found myself getting a little bit nervous as the plane swung from left to right, with Claython asking us all to keep our eyes peeled for other air traffic! It was far too much fun to be scared for long though, and as we left Amsterdam to head up North I relaxed and watched the sun break through the clouds. What a great way to spend a Saturday afternoon!
We headed across Purmerend and past Hoorn (where I even got the chance to take the controls for a while) towards Den Helder and the Frisian island of Texel, which by this time was bathed in some beautiful late-afternoon sunshine. Here Claython got to perform his first landing on a grass runway. Impressively, he managed to deal with cross-winds and soggy grass and we touched-down without problems. After a brief stop to complete the paperwork we were up in the air again and racing against the clock to get back to Lelystad before sunset, where Claython impressed us all again with a fantastically smooth touch-down.
An afternoon that I certainly will never forget. Thanks Claython, looking forward to the next flight! All photos here.
Friday, December 15, 2006
Een uitje naar Duitsland
I'm supposed to be in Austria. Instead I'm in Hoofddorp. I'll give you a quick comparison - in Hoofddorp there are less mountains, less snow, less gluhweijn, no handsome ski instructors, and generally not too many opportunities to snowboard. I took the whole week off work because of a planned trip to Kirchberg, but unfortunately the resort is still closed because it all looks very green hills / 'Sound of Music' up there.
Instead, me and my new board-buddy Elise headed off for a road trip into Germany yesterday, to a little town called Bottrop, where there's a ski centre with the longest indoor piste (apparently) in the world. This was just a couple of hours driving, and The Alpin Center made for a great day out. We paid our 35 Eur for a day ticket and were amazed to discover that this included unlimited snowboarding, equipment hire, food , coffee, tea, cakes and as many of those great big jugs of German beer that you could swill!
Okay, it wasn't quite Kirchberg, and maybe the beer helped, but we had lots of fun. They had this bizarre lift which was like a human conveyer belt that took some getting used to, but meant you could hop on and off while clutching your board, leaving the skiers standing on their skis, looking like odd little penguins being shoved up a slope.
Even though it was the biggest in the world, the downward slope always ended too soon (especially when you're as fast as me, ha ha) but it was definitely worth the drive.
So thanks to Elise (who is now linking turns since her two hour lesson yesterday - yeah!!) for our little 'uitje' (outing). Here's to January, Chatel and REAL mountains!
Instead, me and my new board-buddy Elise headed off for a road trip into Germany yesterday, to a little town called Bottrop, where there's a ski centre with the longest indoor piste (apparently) in the world. This was just a couple of hours driving, and The Alpin Center made for a great day out. We paid our 35 Eur for a day ticket and were amazed to discover that this included unlimited snowboarding, equipment hire, food , coffee, tea, cakes and as many of those great big jugs of German beer that you could swill!
Okay, it wasn't quite Kirchberg, and maybe the beer helped, but we had lots of fun. They had this bizarre lift which was like a human conveyer belt that took some getting used to, but meant you could hop on and off while clutching your board, leaving the skiers standing on their skis, looking like odd little penguins being shoved up a slope.
Even though it was the biggest in the world, the downward slope always ended too soon (especially when you're as fast as me, ha ha) but it was definitely worth the drive.
So thanks to Elise (who is now linking turns since her two hour lesson yesterday - yeah!!) for our little 'uitje' (outing). Here's to January, Chatel and REAL mountains!
Sunday, December 03, 2006
I Feel Moved
I'm able to type this entry from the comfort of my bed, due to the 'all mod-cons' nature of my new address, which boasts super-fast wireless internet access and an indoor sauna. I'll be wanting my own butler soon.
I deserve a bit of pampering as it's been a crazy couple of days. Every time I move I have this naive faith that the packing and moving process will be straightforward. How much stuff can someone really accumulate in three and a half years? After all, I moved here with just a suitcase. The answer is, two whole van-loads. Yesterday was full of too many boxes and too many stairs.
On Thursday evening I borrowed 8 flat-packed moving boxes from work, tied them up with string, slung them over my back and set off home on the metro. At Wibautstraat I picked up my bike and tried to cycle home with them. The process involved getting several bruises and a lot of swearing, but I finally managed to get me and the boxes on the bike, only to come to a sudden stop a few meters up the road. I realised that the string that I'd used to tie up the boxes had got tightly wrapped round the wheel of the bike and there was no way I was going to be able to free it without a good pair of scissors. I was forced to abandon the poor thing in a state of bondage and head off on foot. Walking a mile with eight large boxes stacked up on my head wasn't much fun at all, but I made it home in the end.
Yesterday after all the moving chaos was over, tired, hungry and emotional, I was back in Amsterdam for a work do. I was running very late, but I decided to rescue my poor omafiets. Crouched in the dark in my evening clothes in the rain, picking away at the spokes of my bike with a pair of scissors, it suddenly occured to be what a glamorous life I lead.
But I'm here now in a comfy bed with my laptop and a cup of tea and I'm putting it all behind me. So Hoofddorp it is then, at least til next April/May time when I get the keys to the appartment I've bought back in good-old Amsterdam.
I deserve a bit of pampering as it's been a crazy couple of days. Every time I move I have this naive faith that the packing and moving process will be straightforward. How much stuff can someone really accumulate in three and a half years? After all, I moved here with just a suitcase. The answer is, two whole van-loads. Yesterday was full of too many boxes and too many stairs.
On Thursday evening I borrowed 8 flat-packed moving boxes from work, tied them up with string, slung them over my back and set off home on the metro. At Wibautstraat I picked up my bike and tried to cycle home with them. The process involved getting several bruises and a lot of swearing, but I finally managed to get me and the boxes on the bike, only to come to a sudden stop a few meters up the road. I realised that the string that I'd used to tie up the boxes had got tightly wrapped round the wheel of the bike and there was no way I was going to be able to free it without a good pair of scissors. I was forced to abandon the poor thing in a state of bondage and head off on foot. Walking a mile with eight large boxes stacked up on my head wasn't much fun at all, but I made it home in the end.
Yesterday after all the moving chaos was over, tired, hungry and emotional, I was back in Amsterdam for a work do. I was running very late, but I decided to rescue my poor omafiets. Crouched in the dark in my evening clothes in the rain, picking away at the spokes of my bike with a pair of scissors, it suddenly occured to be what a glamorous life I lead.
But I'm here now in a comfy bed with my laptop and a cup of tea and I'm putting it all behind me. So Hoofddorp it is then, at least til next April/May time when I get the keys to the appartment I've bought back in good-old Amsterdam.
Thursday, November 16, 2006
Political Hotline
It seems I have a new career as a Dutch politician.
In the approach to the Dutch elections on 22nd November, my private home phone seems to be a hotline for various mad people who seem to think that I can answer their questions regarding the policies of my party, or just would like to engage in a bit of good old-fashioned verbal abuse.
This misunderstanding stems from the fact that I'm listed in the phone book as Mevrouw L. Griffith. Mevrouw Laetitia Griffith has (wisely) chosen not to be listed. I'm getting her calls. It's all very interesting and I'm getting lots of Dutch practice telling people to sod off.
It's very strange how persistent people can be. The conversation can stretch on for some time, and some people still won't believe I'm not her. You would think that the fact that I can barely speak the language might give them a tiny little clue that perhaps I'm not really the woman for the job.
Perhaps next time I'll try the "Yes, I'm her. What do you want to know?" approach. There goes the local loonies vote...
In the approach to the Dutch elections on 22nd November, my private home phone seems to be a hotline for various mad people who seem to think that I can answer their questions regarding the policies of my party, or just would like to engage in a bit of good old-fashioned verbal abuse.
This misunderstanding stems from the fact that I'm listed in the phone book as Mevrouw L. Griffith. Mevrouw Laetitia Griffith has (wisely) chosen not to be listed. I'm getting her calls. It's all very interesting and I'm getting lots of Dutch practice telling people to sod off.
It's very strange how persistent people can be. The conversation can stretch on for some time, and some people still won't believe I'm not her. You would think that the fact that I can barely speak the language might give them a tiny little clue that perhaps I'm not really the woman for the job.
Perhaps next time I'll try the "Yes, I'm her. What do you want to know?" approach. There goes the local loonies vote...
Sunday, October 29, 2006
Scary Women
With the aid of a nasty cheap wig, white face paint and some clothes from the back of my wardrobe, I was transformed last night into a vision of gothic loveliness. Actually, I looked like a total freak, but that's okay because I was going to a Halloween party with an Addam's Family theme. Seemed like a good idea at the time, as did the seven glasses of 'blood' red wine that I quaffed, but today I'm feeling a bit queasy. Must have been the bat burger I ate after midnight.
Here I am pictured with fellow hags Elise (Morticia) and Laurie (Wednesday). More Pics HERE.
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
Crossing the line again
I did it! My first Half Marathon. All 21km (13 miles) of it! It took 2 hrs and 5 mins. It felt great, and I'm once again grateful for the company of my race-buddy Mairead who kept my mind off my aching legs. Race videos of our victorious finish can be found here.
Friday, October 06, 2006
The Return of the Apartment Fairy
All change.
I'm crashing at my sister's place in London this week and am enjoying some time-out from the blur of changes that have been rapidly taking place in my life in the past weeks.
As I am now zonder Nederlander , I'm having to adjust to a 'single girl in Amsterdam' status again. It's sad, exciting, scary, liberating and strange all at once.
As much as I love our apartment, it is definitely a place for a two-person budget, so my first move was to engage in a flurry of property viewings, which made for a couple of crazy (and at times downright depressing) weeks but by luck my 'apartment fairy' waved her magic wand once more, and I stumbled across a lovely little one bedroom place near the Westerpark, which instantly shouted 'buy me, buy me'. So I did. As simply as that, I find myself a home-owner. Well, I will be by Summer next year (the current owners are due to move on by the end of April). In the meantime I am continuing the hunt for a temporary place to stay.
So I'm turning the page and starting a fresh chapter of my Amsterdam Adventures and am looking forward to creating my own story. Watch this space!
I'm crashing at my sister's place in London this week and am enjoying some time-out from the blur of changes that have been rapidly taking place in my life in the past weeks.
As I am now zonder Nederlander , I'm having to adjust to a 'single girl in Amsterdam' status again. It's sad, exciting, scary, liberating and strange all at once.
As much as I love our apartment, it is definitely a place for a two-person budget, so my first move was to engage in a flurry of property viewings, which made for a couple of crazy (and at times downright depressing) weeks but by luck my 'apartment fairy' waved her magic wand once more, and I stumbled across a lovely little one bedroom place near the Westerpark, which instantly shouted 'buy me, buy me'. So I did. As simply as that, I find myself a home-owner. Well, I will be by Summer next year (the current owners are due to move on by the end of April). In the meantime I am continuing the hunt for a temporary place to stay.
So I'm turning the page and starting a fresh chapter of my Amsterdam Adventures and am looking forward to creating my own story. Watch this space!
Thursday, September 21, 2006
SSSsssssssss...............
I've just got home to see a letter from 14-year old Christiaan on the doormat, who's a bit sad because his pet snake has escaped. This creature is a 'Canadese Kousenbandslang' (this seems to translate from Dutch as a 'Canadian Stocking-bandage Snake'), which looks like this:
In his letter, Christiaan informs us that it is a non-strangling and non-poisonous type of snake. I'm quite happy about this, because the damn thing crawled over my feet in the garden the other day. Christiaan asks that if we happen to spot him, we need to throw a big bucket over him and keep him cool (apparently this calms him down). He doesn't give any tips about how to calm myself down after a bloody-great snake slithers across my bare feet. My advice to Christiaan would be to keep the lid on his snake tank, or just give up and buy a gerbil.
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
It's the eye of the tiger, It's the thrill of the fight...
Despite the 'wobbly weeble week' I had last week... sleep deprivation, emotional turmoil, blah blah blah.... I succeeded in smashing my personal best time in this year's Dam tot Dam race. I crossed the line at 1 hour, 33 mins and 26 secs, dispelling my own self-created myth that I'm getting too old and creaky for all that nonsense. See if you can spot me at the 10km mark, running along with a silly grin on my face to the tune of 'Eye of the Tiger'.
In the photo I'm almost at the end, close to the finish line with fellow 'girl power' runner Mairead. More photos online here.
The next running challenge is the Amsterdam Half Marathon on the 15th October. I've never run 21km before, but I'm going to give it my best shot.
In the photo I'm almost at the end, close to the finish line with fellow 'girl power' runner Mairead. More photos online here.
The next running challenge is the Amsterdam Half Marathon on the 15th October. I've never run 21km before, but I'm going to give it my best shot.
Saturday, September 16, 2006
We Weebles Wobble But We Don't Fall Down
Remember these? I used to love these little guys, and had a set exactly like this when I was a kid.
I'm going through a wobbly weeble-phase at the moment, and am inspired by their resillience.
So it's me and the weebles, still standing!
French Retreat
Montignac le Coq Sept 06 047rotated
Originally uploaded by Lucy Griffith.
Last week I got to bask in some French sunshine during a family holiday. My sister arranged to hire a beautiful farmhouse ('Le Pible') in the tiny village of Montignac le Coq. The house and grounds were fantastic and the perfect place to enjoy a bit of sunshine and tranquility.
It's not often you get to take a dip in your own private pool, then climb out and pick fresh figs from the tree for a post-swim snack, while dripping off in the sunshine.
Little Oscar was there to entertain us all with his new crawling skills and to ride 'elephant style' on his Auntie Lucy's back.
I also got to do some great morning runs through the sunflower fields. The hill-training will be very good preparation for the Dam tot Damloop, which I'm running on Sunday!
Photos are posted here.
Saturday, August 26, 2006
Calm Waters
Sailing Event Aug 06 071
Originally uploaded by Lucy Griffith.
Okay, so after all that moaning I thought I'd post in a more serene frame of mind.
The photo was taken during my first sailing experience, at Aalsmeer Sailing School, where I went on Thursday with a group of people from work for a couple of hours on the water.
The sun shone for us and the water was like glass so it was an extremely chilled-out evening. We didn't have too much wind in the sails, so it wasn't exactly a white-knuckle experience, but it was great being out on our little boat ('The Red Devil'). Our little group (an all-girl crew ) included an instructor, Saskia, who explained the basics. Not sure I quite grasped all the concepts, but I gather it's something to do with sail flappiness... or something like that....
Monday, August 14, 2006
Moan, Moan, Moan....
Rain, Rain, Rain, Rain, Rain, then a bit more rain.
Every time I get on my bike I get soaked. Due to my recent nasty trouser accident I was forced to buy some new 'ultra sexy' rain trousers to go with my 'oh so flattering' rain jacket, so now I look like a nerdy drenched rat every time I leave the house.
Because of this spectacularly soggy weather, and because it's monday, and because my metro just stopped inexplicably in the middle of the tracks for half an hour, I feel that I have the right to have a moan. So if you don't fancy hearing me whinge I suggest you stop reading now!
Life in Holland is usually extremely pleasant, but sometimes those 'little things' start to grind. This is usually related to the famous 'relaxed' Dutch approach to customer service. Like waiting TWO HOURS to have a pizza delivered. Yes, really. Then there's the customary half hour wait in the supermarket queue (because they only have two tills open at peak times)only to have one of those 'TILL CLOSED' boards shoved in your face, forcing me and half the population of Amsterdam into ONE VERY LONG queue. And the fact that you can't really buy anything remotely useful in a supermarket. On top of that I'm forced to buy a children's metro ticket for my bike, even though it gains no pleasure in being taken out for the day. While I'm on a roll... They close all the shops on a Monday morning. The DIY places are closed on the day when everyone does DIY - Sunday. However, builders are allowed to operate their drills on a daily basis outside my bedroom window at 6.20am. You can't buy a carton of milk in my neighbourhood on a Sunday. Estate agents only let you view apartments during hours when all the people who can afford to buy one aren't available (ie. Monday to Friday between 9am and 5pm).... etc. etc. etc..
Okay, I feel much better to have got that off my chest. I'm off for a bike ride along the canals to remember why it's so lovely living here!
Every time I get on my bike I get soaked. Due to my recent nasty trouser accident I was forced to buy some new 'ultra sexy' rain trousers to go with my 'oh so flattering' rain jacket, so now I look like a nerdy drenched rat every time I leave the house.
Because of this spectacularly soggy weather, and because it's monday, and because my metro just stopped inexplicably in the middle of the tracks for half an hour, I feel that I have the right to have a moan. So if you don't fancy hearing me whinge I suggest you stop reading now!
Life in Holland is usually extremely pleasant, but sometimes those 'little things' start to grind. This is usually related to the famous 'relaxed' Dutch approach to customer service. Like waiting TWO HOURS to have a pizza delivered. Yes, really. Then there's the customary half hour wait in the supermarket queue (because they only have two tills open at peak times)only to have one of those 'TILL CLOSED' boards shoved in your face, forcing me and half the population of Amsterdam into ONE VERY LONG queue. And the fact that you can't really buy anything remotely useful in a supermarket. On top of that I'm forced to buy a children's metro ticket for my bike, even though it gains no pleasure in being taken out for the day. While I'm on a roll... They close all the shops on a Monday morning. The DIY places are closed on the day when everyone does DIY - Sunday. However, builders are allowed to operate their drills on a daily basis outside my bedroom window at 6.20am. You can't buy a carton of milk in my neighbourhood on a Sunday. Estate agents only let you view apartments during hours when all the people who can afford to buy one aren't available (ie. Monday to Friday between 9am and 5pm).... etc. etc. etc..
Okay, I feel much better to have got that off my chest. I'm off for a bike ride along the canals to remember why it's so lovely living here!
Boat Trip
It's been ages since I blogged. Since I last wrote we've had a month-long heatwave where Amsterdam basked in the sun and since then a return to the more commonplace grey drizzly weather. Back in the scorching July days we took a trip out on our friends' (Ton and Alice) boat around the lovely Amsterdam canals, taking in the City from a different angle. We sailed out to the North where there was a safe spot to tie up the boat and jump off the side for a cooling dip. When I say 'safe' I mean that the likelihood of meeting a rusting bike (or perhaps the odd corpse?) was more minimal than in the City centre.
Monday, June 05, 2006
It's Not Easy Being Bob
Yesterday evening (after we went dancing at a beach party in Bloemendaal) I was the the designated 'Bob' .
This title comes from the Dutch advertising campaign to prevent drink-driving. The idea is that 'Bob blijft fris' (Bob stays fresh) and drives all his drunk companions home after a night out. I guess the female equivalent is Bobette or Bobientje or something.
This sounds like a simple task, until you take into account that I have never driven in Holland. Despite having been a regular driver and car-owner in the UK, the following points have influenced my decision to stay motor-free in NL for the past three years...
1. They drive on the wrong side of the road
2. The gear stick is on the wrong side of the car
3. The handbreak is on the wrong side of the car
4. The driver's seat is on the wrong side of the car
5. I have very little idea what the Dutch road signs actually mean
6. The road markings are really weird
7. There's nowhere to park in Amsterdam
8. I have a bike
Despite this I was persuaded to drive all the way home. I'm happy to report that we all arrived home safely and it went okay (ahem, apart from the couple of times when Peter had to grab the wheel to stop me mounting the kerb). Of course this was due to the fact that the Dutch drive on the wrong side of the road and that Peter's car is too big... nothing to do with me being a bad Bob.
Perhaps I ought to take some lessons?
This title comes from the Dutch advertising campaign to prevent drink-driving. The idea is that 'Bob blijft fris' (Bob stays fresh) and drives all his drunk companions home after a night out. I guess the female equivalent is Bobette or Bobientje or something.
This sounds like a simple task, until you take into account that I have never driven in Holland. Despite having been a regular driver and car-owner in the UK, the following points have influenced my decision to stay motor-free in NL for the past three years...
1. They drive on the wrong side of the road
2. The gear stick is on the wrong side of the car
3. The handbreak is on the wrong side of the car
4. The driver's seat is on the wrong side of the car
5. I have very little idea what the Dutch road signs actually mean
6. The road markings are really weird
7. There's nowhere to park in Amsterdam
8. I have a bike
Despite this I was persuaded to drive all the way home. I'm happy to report that we all arrived home safely and it went okay (ahem, apart from the couple of times when Peter had to grab the wheel to stop me mounting the kerb). Of course this was due to the fact that the Dutch drive on the wrong side of the road and that Peter's car is too big... nothing to do with me being a bad Bob.
Perhaps I ought to take some lessons?
Friday, March 31, 2006
Dahl for Dummies
I'm going through a bit of a couch-potato phase at the moment, which is okay until I realise that I've been sat infront of a Korean film with Dutch subtitles for the past two hours and have no comprehension of what the hell is going on.
Time to go read a book.
I am enjoying my second literary childhood. I am re-discovering my love of Roald Dahl, but this time I read the stories to Peter in Dutch. My Dutch tutor suggested that I read aloud to a native speaker so that I can be corrected on my (numerous) pronounciation errors. This is all very well, but I seem to have the knack of sending Peter to sleep before I've got through a couple of pages.
Still, I've learned that the Big Friendly Giant (BFG) transforms into the Grote Vriendelijke Reus (GVR) for little Dutch children and that Charlie (of Chocolate Factory fame) becomes Sjakie. Even though it's a bit of a struggle wrestling with the vocabulary the books are still really great and I'm happy to have an excuse for a good bedtime story, even though I was supposed to have grown out of it years ago. I'm just proud to have increased my reading age in recent months - my Jip en Janneke phase seems like a distant dream to me now.
Time to go read a book.
I am enjoying my second literary childhood. I am re-discovering my love of Roald Dahl, but this time I read the stories to Peter in Dutch. My Dutch tutor suggested that I read aloud to a native speaker so that I can be corrected on my (numerous) pronounciation errors. This is all very well, but I seem to have the knack of sending Peter to sleep before I've got through a couple of pages.
Still, I've learned that the Big Friendly Giant (BFG) transforms into the Grote Vriendelijke Reus (GVR) for little Dutch children and that Charlie (of Chocolate Factory fame) becomes Sjakie. Even though it's a bit of a struggle wrestling with the vocabulary the books are still really great and I'm happy to have an excuse for a good bedtime story, even though I was supposed to have grown out of it years ago. I'm just proud to have increased my reading age in recent months - my Jip en Janneke phase seems like a distant dream to me now.
Thursday, March 30, 2006
Poor Trousers
My trousers got run over by a train today.
I was busy running along the platform, hoping to catch the metro that was about to pull away when I was suddenly aware of people shouting 'Mevrouw! Mevrouw!!' at me.
I turned to see that my backpack had opened and my various belongings (dirty gym kit, old newspapers, woolley hat, etc etc.) were strewn the entire length of the platform. Embarrassed, I turned back and started collecting everything together, when I noticed one man pointing down at the train rails. We both stood and looked at my poor trousers, lying down there like the victim of a horrible accident. 'Het trein komt Mevrouw' he said (the train is coming Miss). I think he was worried that I would suddenly hurl myself infront of it on some kind of trouser mercy-mission.
Later Peter came in and was complaining that the Metros were delayed due to problems on the line during his trip home from work. I've heard that leaves on the line can wreak havoc, but surely this doesn't extend to clothing? Or does it?
I was busy running along the platform, hoping to catch the metro that was about to pull away when I was suddenly aware of people shouting 'Mevrouw! Mevrouw!!' at me.
I turned to see that my backpack had opened and my various belongings (dirty gym kit, old newspapers, woolley hat, etc etc.) were strewn the entire length of the platform. Embarrassed, I turned back and started collecting everything together, when I noticed one man pointing down at the train rails. We both stood and looked at my poor trousers, lying down there like the victim of a horrible accident. 'Het trein komt Mevrouw' he said (the train is coming Miss). I think he was worried that I would suddenly hurl myself infront of it on some kind of trouser mercy-mission.
Later Peter came in and was complaining that the Metros were delayed due to problems on the line during his trip home from work. I've heard that leaves on the line can wreak havoc, but surely this doesn't extend to clothing? Or does it?
Sunday, March 19, 2006
Falling Down Mountains
After a seemingly endless drive yesterday we're back home from the mountains for the last time this season. We had a great week staying in a little village called Oz en Oisans, nestled just under Alpe D'Huez, in a really lovely apartment(Chalet de Neiges). So much snow had fallen in the days before we arrived that we had plenty of great powder to play in and we couldn't believe our luck with the weather - 6 days of continuous sunshine! The area boasts 245km of pistes, so there was plenty of great runs to discover, then back to the apartment each evening for a hot bath and a bit of home cooking.
Unfortunately our luck didn't extend to staying injury-free and one of our party (Sarah) ended up with a broken leg and damaged knee ligaments after a fall towards the end of the week. Peter also sprained his wrist attempting a jump on his board on the same day. Suitably cautioned, I was definitely taking things easy by Friday, and managed to make it home with nothing more serious than the usual collection of bruises.
The (pre-injury!) photos are online HERE.
Unfortunately our luck didn't extend to staying injury-free and one of our party (Sarah) ended up with a broken leg and damaged knee ligaments after a fall towards the end of the week. Peter also sprained his wrist attempting a jump on his board on the same day. Suitably cautioned, I was definitely taking things easy by Friday, and managed to make it home with nothing more serious than the usual collection of bruises.
The (pre-injury!) photos are online HERE.
Monday, February 06, 2006
Update from Amsterdam
So what's been happening recently?
After three years of working together, my colleague Lisa left last week to start a new career in recruitment in the financial sector in London. It was all pretty sudden, one minute she was a gym manager in Amsterdam and the next minute she's going to be a head-hunter in the City with a swanky new pad in town. She's done really well and I'm proud of her! Working in a two-man team means that you really get used to having someone around. I'll especially miss the little things about working with Lisa - the funny notes she leaves taped to my pc when I arrive in the morning, the way she always notices when you've had your hair cut or are wearing something new, the fact that she always forgives me for PMT-induced grumpiness and for her ability to make a chicken out of a tea towel!
Well, as you can see from previous entries there's been a recent spate of snowboard addiction. I bought a new Volkl Destiny board and some Flow bindings recently, so I have a considerably lighter wallet as a result. Luckily in Lisa's absense I'm getting promoted to manager, which means a pay rise, so I get some extra cash to feed my obsession! We're off to Alpe D'Huez in three weeks time (or, more specifically to a little village called Oz en Oisans) for our next fix of snow, so are keeping an eye on the weather forecast and praying for powder again.
After three years of working together, my colleague Lisa left last week to start a new career in recruitment in the financial sector in London. It was all pretty sudden, one minute she was a gym manager in Amsterdam and the next minute she's going to be a head-hunter in the City with a swanky new pad in town. She's done really well and I'm proud of her! Working in a two-man team means that you really get used to having someone around. I'll especially miss the little things about working with Lisa - the funny notes she leaves taped to my pc when I arrive in the morning, the way she always notices when you've had your hair cut or are wearing something new, the fact that she always forgives me for PMT-induced grumpiness and for her ability to make a chicken out of a tea towel!
Well, as you can see from previous entries there's been a recent spate of snowboard addiction. I bought a new Volkl Destiny board and some Flow bindings recently, so I have a considerably lighter wallet as a result. Luckily in Lisa's absense I'm getting promoted to manager, which means a pay rise, so I get some extra cash to feed my obsession! We're off to Alpe D'Huez in three weeks time (or, more specifically to a little village called Oz en Oisans) for our next fix of snow, so are keeping an eye on the weather forecast and praying for powder again.
Sunday, January 22, 2006
Snow Junkies
I think me and Peter are developing a serious addiction to snowboarding. We got back from Kirchberg (Austria) last monday and started surfing the web for some bargain wintersports breaks before we'd even unpacked our bags. This isn't the cheapest hobby in the world to become addicted to, or the most practical one (alas, Holland doesn't provide many mountains).
Kirchberg was lots of fun! Photographs online here.
In the meantime, here's a pic of me and colleague Ian, pretending that we were 18 again and off to ride the rails in the snowpark. In reality I was off to slowly cruise some blues in a sedate fashion and avoid bruises, like the sensible 34 year old that I am.
Kirchberg was lots of fun! Photographs online here.
In the meantime, here's a pic of me and colleague Ian, pretending that we were 18 again and off to ride the rails in the snowpark. In reality I was off to slowly cruise some blues in a sedate fashion and avoid bruises, like the sensible 34 year old that I am.
Tuesday, January 03, 2006
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