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.
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