11 - For Butter or For Wurst (Amsterdam, Beverwijk, Brugge)

Amsterdam, NETHERLANDS - 26 august 2002

Amsterdam is a very pretty city to walk around. There is a very cozy feel about the place. And there are loads on the streets to see. I need not elaborate on the merits of Amsterdam. I am sure everyone knows… about the beautiful canal houses. Ha. And yeah, not to forget the sex-shops, the weed…

I must say, from the postcards I saw around Amsterdam, the locals made great puns. The video-shops here carried interesting titles too, not usually found in the regular video-shops, I supposed - titles such as ‘Sexy and Cheeky Young Guns’.

But food here was atrociously expensive. Thank goodness, I was heading back to Maria’s house for home-cooked food tonight.



Rotterdam, NETHERLANDS - 27 august 2002

While Amsterdam is cozy and charming, Rotterdam is one huge modern city. I went there to apply for my Brazilian visa and took the chance to wander around the city, admiring its modernist architecture.

Rotterdam has a cluster of houses shaped like cubes standing on their points. I visited the inside of one of them and gosh, I felt claustrophobic and a little giddy. I wondered how it was like to live there. I understood from Maria that some people who bought the houses had to move out after a while.

Well, staying with a typical Dutch family, naturally, I got the chance to sample various types of cheese, dairy products and desserts found in Maria’s refrigerator that she offered me everyday. It was great to experience these choices.

I remembered the other time in Mongolia, when Goretti (another Dutch) and I were talking about how the Mongolians smelled of boiled mutton. She suddenly grabbed my forearm and inhaled, trying to see if I smelled of rice. I grabbed her forearm and inhaled and I just about detected the smell of butter, I thought.


Zaanse Schans & Beverwijk, NETHERLANDS - 28 august 2002

Frank, Maria’s husband, felt it really necessary to expose me to the most famous symbol of The Netherlands – the wind-mill. We visited the interior of a working wind-mill in Zaanse Schans and observed the grinding and pounding of saw-dust and such from wind power. In the nearby stores, there were chunks of traditional crafts, cheese, mustard and colourful wooden clogs on display and for sale. Your token Dutch experience and well worth the visit to appreciate how traditional wind-mills work.

Maria then left her son, Andre, with me while she went with Frank to visit a mortgage agent. They were buying a new house.

Andre and I were left at a park near their house. I was a little apprehensive about baby-sitting Andre but he turned out to be quite an angel. He was really well-behaved, as long as I kept pushing the stroller along. He would not be bored if he had new things to look at.

I pointed out different items and went, “Flower”… “Bower”, he repeated. “Duck” – “Duck”, “Grass” – “Glass”, “Rock” – “Bock” “Spider” – “Spider”, “River” – “Riber”

Not bad, not bad. I reckoned at the end of this baby-sitting session, his English was way better than my Dutch.



Beverwijk to Utrecht, NETHERLANDS - 29 august 2002

Maria and her family were leaving for Bulgaria on a holiday today. Yeah, I had actually come at a wrong time. They were very busy the past few days with the sale of their current house, planning the mortgage thing for their new house and preparing for this trip. Yet, despite their lack of time, they made me feel more than welcome staying with them. The bed was really soft and comfortable. The food was great. They were absolutely hospitable. It was really nice to meet up with them again after all these years.

I had another Dutch friend, Peter. I had contacted him to ask if I could stay with him from today onwards. No problem. It was great that Netherlands is relatively small so travelling to any city was not too much of a hassle.

I returned to Rotterdam to pick up my passport and Peter picked me up from there.

While my Europe trip was not turning out terribly exciting, I really wanted to visit my friends here. I mean, we could forever stay in touch via emails or… I could put in the extra effort to travel to the places they live in and catch up a little in person. That way, the friendship can grow deeper.

As it turned out, Peter has a beautiful, tastefully decorated apartment. He is a great photographer and we spent hours that evening going through his slides from his past trips. I learnt a lot from his narratives. Gosh, there are so many places to visit, aren’t there? When can one stop?


Brugge, BELGIUM - 30 august 2002

For want of somewhere to go, Peter and I drove to Brugge in Belgium for a look-see. Europe is great. Tiny and compact. Just think of a place reasonably nearby, and why not, we could drive there in a couple of hours… and off we go.

The drive there was not very interesting. After all, The Netherlands and Belgium are flat with no background scenery to admire.

Brugge is indeed a very picturesque town. It is thoroughly touristy as well. Like Amsterdam, the town had pretty canals and canal-houses but with slightly different designs. We spent a pleasant afternoon getting lost among the photogenic streets and alleys.

However, the return trip took us a whooping 4 hours because of traffic jam due to road-works. We were terribly cross when we finally crossed into Netherlands.


Utrecht, NETHERLANDS to Belfast, IRELAND - 31 august 2002

I flew to London and onwards to Belfast today. I planned to visit Jane, an Irish lady whom I met earlier in my trip in China and travelled together for three weeks. As she was away in London this weekend, I would spend two nights in Belfast at a youth hostel first.

Fantastic. Everything is written in English now. I could be understood wherever I went. But the Belfast accent was a little thick.

When I thought of Belfast, what came to mind were those terrible reports about ‘The Troubles’. I walked around the streets, wondering if this was a building previously blown up before. Loads of ‘TO LET’ signs were spotted everywhere near the centre.

The weather was freezing cold too. I had to remember I was now at a higher latitude again and would need my jumper if I went out. Belfast was a dead town after 6pm. I did not do much and stayed in the hostel to read. Internet access was a whopping £4 an hour! Imagine that.