Nether-Netherlands

Desperately seeking a break from mushy peas, academia, and grey skies, I left the island and made my first official trip to Europe. For this inaugural journey, I went to the stay with my family in the Netherlands. Unlike the vast expansiveness that is Canada, Europe's attractions are all concentrated onto a small area of land. Thanks to this fact, I was able to fly in and out of Dusseldorf, Germany to avoid the high cost and intense crowds of the Amsterdam airport. During my journey there, I kept myself entertained by reading the Diary of Anne Frank, which I had picked up because we were planning a visit to the Anne Frank House in Amsterdam. Unfortunately, I got so absorbed in her story that by the time I arrived in Germany, I was absolutely terrified of the aryan Gestapo; sorry, immigration officer. Thankfully, they allowed me to enter the EU despite my clear nerves. After meeting up with Kavita and Erwin, we hopped into the car and made a quick (i.e. 226 km/h) getaway out of Germany on the autobahn.

Amsterdam, the European city of sin, was my first official tour. "Window shopping" takes on a whole new meaning in the red light district where brothels put their, umm "products and services", on in their store front displays. It's like a racy version of Macys. Coffee Shops too are no longer just for a cup of joe and socializing, these are the tourist hubs that dispel a thick fog of "herbal" smoke from their open doors. Despite it's main claims to fame, the XXX reputation that precedes this city does not do justice to its beauty. The cobblestone streets, city markets, WWII landmarks, canals and wonderously tall and skinny buildings (and people), are what I will remember of Amsterdam. Most of all, I will remember the bikes.

In the Netherlands, biking is an integrated mode of transportation. There are separate streets and traffic lights just for cyclists and it is so safe that no one wears a helmet. While in Amsterdam, I visited my friend Jenny and the two of us decided to "go native" and ride two people to a bike. The locals do it, how hard can it be?

Attempt #1: Jenny was peddling and I was sitting side saddle on the back. I had to jump off the moving bicycle to narrowly avoid a crash.
Attempt #2: We crashed.
Attempt #3: Toss aside our dignity and have the passenger straddle the back of the bike as if we were on a motorcycle. However, we quickly realize that doubling the weight on a bicycle makes for some intense exercise.
Attempt #4: Try and switch drivers half way, but I could not keep the bike straight. We swerved all across the bike lane like a drunk toddler.
Attempt #5: Finally get the hang of it only to get chased by swans all the way home.

The rest of my days in the Netherlands were filled with numerous forms of waffles and pancakes (stroopwafels, Pannekoeken, Poffertjes) as well as the added delight of home cooking. I was able to fulfill my childhood fantasy of being in more than one place at once in the Southern Netherlands where I was able to stand in Netherlands, Germany and Belgium. simultaneously. We visited a windmill, wandered the streets of Tiel, tried to describe a pomegranate to a local fruit vendor and even attended a Dutch dinner party. The whole experience was such a refreshing change from student life, the UK, major tourist attractions and the quick trips that I have been doing. It was nice to have time to just relax and smell the tulips.

Highlight of the trip: Getting to visit family.