So I have been regrettably slow at keeping up the accounts of my travels, so I will attempt to catch up this week now that most of the bothersome school work is over (which is quite startling). First, I will recount my wonderful trip to the Netherlands from the 20^th to 23^rd of April.

After months of talk, the group of Guelph BLAs on exchange finally managed to coordinate a reunion in Holland. Six of us exchangers met in Amsterdam on April 20^th for four days of Dutch fun. The timing of flights was rather unfortunate since I wanted to arrive in Amsterdam early in the morning to get the most out of the day on Saturday and as a result, I found myself in transit through the night. I caught the bus at 1AM from Oxford and was at Luton Airport by 2:50. Luton is a tiny little speck of an airport, maybe a little bigger than the Toronto Island airport, but nonetheless it was well furnished with stores and restaurants for the weary night travellers to sleep in. It really is an interesting spectacle to walk into an airport in the middle of the night and see a bunch of well-dressed hobos with luggage curled up in closed restaurants, sprawled over the floor, or even cramped in the luggage ramps of the check-in desks. I am in awe of these people, not just for their ability to colonize and nest in the most undignified and uncomfortable of places, but also because they could actually sleep. I found an armchair at Starbucks which was comfortable enough but sleep eluded me, partly I think because of the automated voice on the PA system shrilly chirping directions about how to proceed through security. I am now well-versed in airport security protocol, but this newfound knowledge came at the expense of my sleep cycle.

No matter though, I was in Amsterdam early, and although I hadn’t slept a wink, I was surprisingly energetic and excited to see everyone after half a year apart. By lunch that day we had all safely landed and found ourselves together wandering the famous canals under clear blue skies. Amsterdam is spectacularly beautiful, at each corner was another glinting canal edged with charismatic – if a little crooked – houses with finely crafted gables adorning the roof line. Perhaps my favourite quality of Amsterdam was the vitality of the street life. Maybe it was just the typical Saturday crowds that descend on cities, but the streets were full of people either walking or on bikes (the stereotype that bicycles outnumber cars in the Netherlands is no joke). There were street marketers boisterously peddling their wares, which included cheap tulips by the bushel, flea market-style merchandise, and of course a wide selection of wooden clogs. There were patios full of people basking in the sun, eating and watching the theatrical spectacle of the street life play out in front of them, street musicians (some invariably stricken with droopy eyelids thanks to the city’s thriving marijuana industry), and of course hordes of tourists. We wandered this wonderful chaos for a while before deciding, as we LA students are wont to do, to find a park and have a picnic. After acquiring some cheap wine, Heineken, bread, cheese, and fruit we wandered into Vondelpark, which was just as joyously alive as the streets around it, and sat under one of the many trees tinged with the pure green glow of new leaves to have our lunch. I can’t say how long we stayed there, catching up as each person shared stories from their country, discussing the various cultural idiosyncrasies they had encountered, and thinking about the final year of school that lies ominously before us. Needless to say, when we finally got up to leave we were much louder, and much less stable on our feet. We fit right in. That night we had a delicious Indian feast before heading out for some evening wanderings through the sights, sounds, and strangely potent smells of the city.

Amsterdam

Some of the droopy-eyed musicians

The flower/clog market

Who needs subtlety?

Vondelpark

Our lovely hosts, Kate and Zen provided out accommodation that night, and our breakfast the next morning before we left for the day to walk along the Rhine. The city life in Wageningen on Sunday was a marked contrast to the bustle and life of Amsterdam. Most places were closed, and the city had a rather sleepy feel when compared to its more raucous counterpart. It was a nice change of pace and we spent a lazy afternoon on the banks of the Rhine where again we indulged in a delicious smorgasbord picnic. The weather was also pristine, as it would prove to be for the entire trip. That night we were treated to authentic home-made pizzas at the residence and we ate until the sauce and toppings were exhausted, chatting again late into the night.

The third day we operated with more conviction, getting up much earlier, determined to catch the morning train to Haarlem, near the coast. After crossing the country in about an hour, we reached our destination and checked into the hostel where we would spend the night. Perhaps the wisest move of the whole trip was the choice to rent bikes from the hostel. We set out in our fleet of matching, bright orange cruising bikes and made our way into the town centre to walk and find somewhere for lunch. Biking in the Netherlands is amazingly easy. Drivers are genuinely courteous to cyclists and quite ably share the road, often yielding to the bikes. Even though it was an adjustment for me, coming from Britain where the roads are backwards and nothing makes sense, I never felt unsafe on the bike because the bike lanes are so well-defined and because cars are so infrequent. When it comes to bicycle culture, Haarlem (and the Netherlands in general) is a model of cooperation and coexistence, and it makes Toronto’s befuddling and contentious political battles over bike lanes look positively juvenile.

Haarlem

Our sandwich place

We ate a fantastic lunch in Haarlem at a little sandwich shop tucked away in one of the side alleys. These are always the places where you find the jewels of cities. The chains and the big stores can afford the prime real estate on the main streets, but from a character perspective are about as interesting or stimulating as, well, a chain store. This place also featured two wonderfully friendly waitresses (apparently a rarity in the Netherlands) who gave us all sorts of ideas for the day. We settled on finding the ocean, since it was another sunny day and we were equipped to travel a farther distance now that we had our neon orange, two-wheeled transport machines. Our journey was slightly longer than planned thanks to a small (large) detour, but it was a pleasant addition to the ride and we carried on through the Zuid-Kennemerland National Park, bound for the ocean. The National Park was an interesting place as we left behind the green suburbs of Haarlem and were thrust into rolling sand dunes, scrubby shrubs and windswept pine trees. I have never been to Africa, but the landscape reminded me of some sort of savannah and I would not have been surprised at all to see an elephant come lumbering over the dunes. But, there were no elephants, and eventually the ocean overtook the dunes on the horizon. The beach was fairly quiet as it was a Monday afternoon, and that worked in our favour as there was no line for the trampolines. Yes, trampolines on the beach. Even after our extended bike ride into the wind, our vigour was renewed once we caught a glimpse of those enticing beacons of fun in the sand. We paid the attendant 2.50, and it may have been the best 2.50 I have spent on this trip. We bounced for a while, and left to look for a restaurant jelly-legged and happy. Fortunately a seaside restaurant was open and we had a nice, cheap dinner before sitting out on the beach as the afternoon waned.

Biking through Africa

The sea

Our fleet

After the night in the hostel, where again our chatting and carousing in the hostel bar kept us up far past our bedtimes, we spent a lazy morning/afternoon the next day back in Amsterdam, visiting the Van Gogh museum and taking a boat tour through the canals as we awaited our respective flights back “home” (still a wonderful thought). It was an altogether perfect adventure, with great friends who travelled at the same pace, with the same goals and wanted to see the same things. It’s hard to leave people like that.

The crew