With the customary 30 minutes
delay (Aer Lingus’s trademark) I landed last Friday afternoon at Schiphol
Airport. Behind me I left dark and gloomy Dublin, where a splendid month of
June had been followed up by a horrendous July with an average temperature below
14 degrees Celsius. Luckily the welcome in the Netherlands was warm in multiple
ways. The evening set off at The Parade with Karine, David and Merel. Queueing
for a while and paying the 7.5 euros entrance fee had raised expectations
somewhat for what appeared to be an odd collection of tents, tables, chairs,
food stalls and many, many hippies. And children. Loads of children. I still
don’t really get the point of it all, but seeing my friends in combination with
(tiny) beers and tasty food made the location rather inconsequential. What will
stand me by for a while to come however is the performance we got to enjoy for
a euro ('sorry we ran out of match sticks. When they ask for your ticket just hold two fingers down'). To be honest, by the time we had finished our dinner and had had a few
drinks, the temperature had gone down significantly, and I involuntarily
regretted ignoring Karine’s earlier advice of taking a coat. Well, we squared
that one when I won a bet later on that night and earnt a bottle of wine!
Anyway, the main reason for paying the euro was that we could warm up with a
few dozen other people in a tiny shack, where we were treated a 20-minute play
by some kids who were still in school learning how to become actors. Well,
plenty to learn still ;). Whereas this show was very much the last push for
David and myself to leave the Parade and take shelter in a warm pub somewhere,
Karine and Merel seemingly hadn’t had enough. So while the two of us were
drinking craft beers at Oliver, the ladies enjoyed some more 1 euro shows and
teamed up with us later on that night. When Oliver closed (earlier than usual) I
bade my goodbyes to David, whom I probably won’t see for a while given his
imminent move far far away, and continued with Karine in a wine bar at Neude. When
also that wine bar closed a few hours later it was only a cold 5 minute bike
ride to Karine’s awesome new house where we had a very very last drink which
eventually proved to be the one drink too many and made me feel slightly
hungover the next day. A long shower and great breakfast sped up the recovery
process significantly though, as did the bottle of ice cold weisner that I
cracked open with Alex at Stadhuisplein not long thereafter. After a few hours
Alex was replaced by Wendela while the sun kept on shining, and in great
spirits I left for Amsterdam early that evening. With the Gay Pride in full
swing in our capital, the streets and squares were buzzing with life and music. After having
met up with Raymon and Gunter we had a few drinks in a few different bars
whereafter we ended up at Rembrandtplein, which hosted a big festival. I am
usually not the biggest fan of packed streets, crowds of drunks and streets
littered so badly you can hardly see the pavement, but I must admit the combination
of good music and great vibe among the crowd dancing and partying made for a
very enjoyable experience.
Joined by Teuni and a mate of the lads we then set
off towards a club I can’t remember the name of. ‘Last time I tried to enter we
were denied access because we were overdressed’. Raymon warily eyed my purple
trousers and blue buttoned-up shirt. ‘They don’t like shirts in there. You had
better take yours off’. And there I went, in my t-shirt, shirt folded up under
my arm, wearing Gunter’s leather jacket on top. Better safe than sorry and a
few minutes later we were rocking on the dance floor, shirt back on, and drinking
cold bottles of Heineken. The next morning I felt remarkably similar to the day
prior but also here my hosts made me a superb breakfast which swiftly wiped
away any traces of hangover and headache. With the knowledge that the evening,
scheduled with Anja, Tommie and Angela, would feature one or two drinks as well,
I decided to give my body a break and the afternoon with Manon, Iris, Minke,
Roelant and Bob was spent on orange juice and coffee. Manon had picked a
splendid location at the water, a short boat ride away from Amsterdam Central
Station, and it was there that we enjoyed the view and a catch-up on each other’s
lives. As with all my little reunions, time went by faster than was desired and
it really felt more like 45 minutes rather than 3 hours later when I bade my
farewells. Hop on the boat and hop on the train and off to Schiphol, where
Tommie and Angela picked me up on their way to Noordwijk. With the sun still
shining brilliantly we were received warmly by Anja. Not for the first time
this weekend the thought ‘I could live here’ struck me, as Anja had secured a
beautiful apartment with a spacious balcony.
Cold white wine at that very
balcony kicked off an evening which would take us to Dutch for dinner and back
to Anja’s for some limoncello to finish the evening in style. I experienced the
best hangover cure of the weekend by taking an early morning swim in the sea
with Anja the next morning after which I lounged on the deckchair on the
balcony all day. Well, not all day,
as we went to have lunch at the beach, but yes the rest of my Monday until
18:00 was spent in the sun with a newspaper and a glass of water. Anja was kind enough to drop me off at Schiphol and after a
goodbye hug I made my way to the gate where, surprise surprise, my Aer Lingus
flight was delayed. Awesome weekend catching up with friends, thanks everyone
for the lovely time. And of course a blog post wouldn’t be complete with a
quote to top it all off with:
(about not being allowed to smoke
in the restaurant)
·
‘Waarom zou dat niet mogen? We zitten toch
buiten.’
·
‘Nee dit telt niet als buiten.’
·
‘Nou als het regent word ik nat’
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