I now live on Keizersgracht, southeast of Leidsestraat. I am extremely happy and excited. It is considered impossible to get an apartment on a canal, I have been repeatedly advised to not even try. I have achieved the impossible. This is beyond awesome!
I have to give full credit to Breigh, who found the ad for me on marktplaats.
Told you it would work out.
Popularity: 3% [?]
Last night, as every night here, I decided to go out. I walked up to Leidseplein and had a nourishing dinner of a brootje kroket from FEBO and caught the #5 tram into de Dam. I walked through Warmoestraat and got some 5th Gear for later and then went over to Nieuwmarkt, which has changed a lot since summer with the loss off all the terrasjes. I decided not to stay for a drink and went into the red light district hoping to find a pub playing the rugby league game. I found one, the Old Sailor (or something) and enjoyed a beer whilst not enjoying the 24-0 loss to the kiwis.
I went back to de Dam and walked down Kalverstraat in search of the Skechers shop that I know is there. It took a while, but I found it and it was everything I had hoped for. Across the street is an English-language bookstore. Since it was late at night the shops were of course closed so I got a tram back to Leidseplein and walked back to the hostel for a drink at the bar before an early night. Until I bumped into Marcel at an ATM. Marcel is the guy who took me to his holiday house on Lago Maggiore in Italy, he was there with his mate Peter. We went out for a beer in a nice cafe on Marnixstraat that I have been to before. He told me that some of his friends were joining us, including Kirsten. I have to see her sometime, so I decided to stay.
I was having good conversation with Marcel and Peter when Kirsten arrived. It was pretty weird, but we soon got over it and caught up. Both Marcel and his friend Jasper gave me contacts for markelaars who might help me get a place to live, Jasper even had his mate’s card in his wallet. I heard the network’s gears start to grind.
[edit: part of the night omitted]
After a few drinks it was time to leave and I bid my friends farewell and went for a walk in the cold. I saw a single snowflake float gently down from the sky.
Today I sent off a few more emails for rooms that have come onto the market and went in the de Dam to get some gloves from de Bijenkorf. I managed to get a pair of leather gloves that more or less match my jacket and was pleased to have warm hands when I went outside. The phone rang – it was Monique, who I had emailed earlier. We setup an appointment for me to have a look at her place (in 2 hours from this posting).
I went down Kalverstraat again, I had a mission to get The Undutchables book from the bookstore and look at the Skechers shop. Both missions accomplished, I came back and wrote this post.
Popularity: 3% [?]
I forgot to say - on Friday night I went into the Bulldog, on the grounds that I can’t mock a place without having been there. Now I can.
I went to the “nightclub” Bulldog on Leidseplein, not any of the coffeeshops. It was a total sausage fest, the ten or so women in the club of 300 were circled by leering drunk Englishmen in matching tour tshirts. I quickly determined that this was an observation-only excursion, decided to have a drink and watch the show. I sat at the bar next to a “drug dealer” who was selling legal herbal cocaine to unsuspecting poms, and his mate who smoked no less than 3 jumbo joints in the hour I was there.
In a room of 300 men, only the women had any dancing skill at all. Apparently beats and movement are not combined in Britain, and movement is kept to a minimum anyway. The poor girls on the floor were having a hard time as you can’t turn your back to every direction at once, and so there was always someone in their face for a few seconds until they turned away again.
A few transvestites started to come in, to the delight of my drug dealer mate, who was perving openly. They started to congregate around him, perhaps they wanted some of that fake coke. I didn’t see him pass any, so I guess not. Shortly afterwards the Rick Astley song Never Gonna Give You Up came on, to loud applause, which was God’s signal for me to leave. And so I did.
Popularity: 3% [?]
I went to have a look at a room yesterday in De Baarsjes, not an encouraging experience. Despite the 2
Popularity: 2% [?]
I arrived at Schipol airport yesterday afternoon, and conveniently there was an immigration office before passport control. I cam to them and explained the situation. The lady said “don’t worry, you are Australian” and I was stamped and let in.
The weather was pretty horrible, quite dark at 3pm, raining and cold. Due to these factors I got a taxi to my hostel, the StayOkay on Vondelpark. It is the largest hostel in Europe with over 500 beds. It is clean and warm.
After getting everything secure I read a local paper and found out that Xavier Rudd was playing at the Paradiso, only a few hundred metres from where I am staying. I braved the cold and rain to get there, only to find that it was cancelled. There were other disappointed Aussies there as well. I went off in search of a brown cafe in which to enjoy a beer and some gezelligheid. I pretty soon gave up on this search due to weather and made it back to the hostel.
They have wireless internet at the hostel so I bought 2 hours and setup in the bar with my laptop. I looked for apartments / share rooms and responded to a few ads but my SIM card was broken so I couldn’t call anyone. After my two hours I put the computer back in the safe and went and sat at the bar to talk to people. Chatting to a few guys a group soon formed, we were myself, an American alternative healing enthusiast, a quiet Israeli and another Aussie – a young graduate from Adelaide. We spent the evening drinking beer and swapping stories until the bar closed (what time?). All of us except the Israeli guy decided to go out.
Walking up the street, the rain was briefly interrupted by a hailstorm. The hail was falling thick and fast, lots of tiny little pieces but the air was thick with them. There was enough that they briefly settled and gave a preview of the snow to come.
We went in to Leidseplein and went in search of food. I tried to talk the others into going to FEBO but they were too scared so in the end it was McDonald’s. I followed my tradition of eating a Big Mac in every country. It seemed sweet, but then again I was quite drunk. We kind of dies after this and walked back to the hostel for sleep.
I woke up early in the morning, I could tell because it was only just starting to get light. I decided to go back to sleep. I kept waking up but as it was always dawn I kept going back to sleep. Eventually I got up and checked my watch, expecting 5 or 6 AM. It was noon! It just doesn’t get light during the day, now I know what gloom means. I went out in search of a mobile phone shop to get my SIM fixed. I had to get another SIM, which includes a form for migrating the number. I don’t think that I will bother though as my new number is cooler: 06 3388 9557 (country code 31).
Back to the hostel, I took advantage of the phone to call a few people about rooms, and again hunted for two hours. I have an appointment to look at a room tomorrow, will post with results then. I am going to get something to eat and meet people now. cya.
Popularity: 3% [?]
Tomorrow morning I am flying to Amsterdam and hopefully I will be let into the country with a minimum of imprisonment. Breigh tells me that the Netherlands is even colder than here in London, so I am a bit scared, not to mention sartorially under-prepared.
So tomorrow is the big step out of the comfort zone again as I move into a country where I effectively* don’t know anyone, don’t have a job and don’t have anywhere to live. It is exciting.
Last weekend I went out for dinner and drinks with a few of my old friends from Datacom who are now living in London. It was great to see them all again and listen to their golden stories of work in the UK. I am entitled to a four year working visa in the UK so perhaps I may join them in the future.
Yesterday Jem and I donned our suits for a high-powered business lunch at the local pub restaurant.
*Whilst I do know a few people, they are generally Kirsten’s friends and family and hence part of a different life. The only other people I know are Breigh and Xander, and they live in Rotterdam, also I don’t actually know them.
Popularity: 2% [?]
I can’t believe I forgot to post about this.
On Michelle’s birthday her boyfriend Luke became her fiance when he proposed marriage. The ring is an antique with a ruby surrounded by diamonds. Michelle is very happy, as are the rest of the family including myself.
Congratulations, Michelle and Luke.
Popularity: 2% [?]
I am writing this from a detention holding cell in London’s Heathrow airport, in my trusty moleskine.
My uneventful 13.5hr flight from Hong Kong landed at 04:50. After walking through kilometres of corridors I was at passport control by 05:20, and was in detention from 5:25. I was not given any explanation and was left there for an hour.
At 6:30, two officers who were handling my “case” escorted me to baggage claim to get my suitcase. They then took me to an area with stainless steel benches, and there was a lady wearing blue rubber gloves*. All of my bags were thoroughly searched, they even read every piece of paper. The whole time I was being questioned, with the same things being paraphrased and asked again, from different angles, over and over. I was relieved when the begloved lady started searching someone else’s bags, and not searching me.
After the search I was taken back to the first detention area and given a small plastic cup of water. Perhaps it is Stokhom Syndrome, but the two officers dealing with me both seemed to be nice guys, there was never any maliciousness. There were a few other detainees in this area, and none of us knew why we were there. There was a guy wearing a Springboks jersey, so that is probably why he was there. The American girl was taking it very personally and complaining to the guards in the typical American “I know my rights” kind of way. I bet she got deported. During the next two hours I was visited a few times by my captors and the situation became less unclear. Their worry is that they are afraid that my visa for The Netherlands was not valid and I would be deported back to the UK. So their plan was to deport me to Hong Kong in a pre-emptive move. Whilst not getting in to NL would certainly be unpleasant for me, I don’t understand why that would be bad for the UK even if it does happen.
After this two hours they brought me the happy news that the paperwork was complete. Now they could put me in a cell, and they led me into a corridor past heavily locked metal doors and into a small office where the photographed me a few times and gave me some forms. There were charts on the wall showing how to take good fingerprints but unfortunately they did not go that far. They took me to another room and made me empty out my pockets and took all my bags, money etc. I managed to convince them to let me keep my pen and moleskine (paper notebook).
They put me in the holding cell and gave me a sandwich and a cup of tea. There was a payphone in the room and one of the guards went and bought me a phone card (with my money, even though the detention documents specified that I could contact someone on Her Majesty’s expense). I called Mel on her mobile and she was very worried. They had already called her a few hours previously to verify my story and since then she did not know what was going on. She told me that she had called Adam and he had correctly assumed responsibility**.
The room I was in was perhaps 8m x 8m with a number of chair benches, the same as you would find in the airport waiting areas. There was a TV on, a payphone and two bathrooms. One wall was all glass and the guards were on the other side. Of course we were locked in the room but were not treated as dangerous, they were happy to open the door to take requests etc. There were seven other people in there, one of whom I knew from the other detention area.
Shortly after 10AM, 4.5 hours after I was detained, I was released. I was given a 6 month visa, but a flag was added to my file, such that if I stay after next Thurday then Bad Things will happen to me. The whole experience was not so bad, I was treated well, the worst part was that I wanted to sleep but couldn’t. And also the fear of the expense if I was deported. Being such a geek, I was thinking about what i could write here, the whole time.
* I was almost tempted to ask for a pair of the gloves, as they were the exact “two by two, hands of blue” gloves.
** just jokes, you don’t control me
Popularity: 2% [?]
I woke at 9am, and went in search of coffee. I walked all the way down Nathan Rd from Mong Kok to Tsim Sha Tsui (>4km) and finally found an open restaurant with a picture of coffee on the window. The coffee was strong and effective. Wide awake, I kept walking and it was not long before the Indian tailors started approaching me. Why are tailors in Asia almost exclusively Indian? Anyway I decided to check out the shop of the third tailor, so I followed him into a back street to his shop. His “brother” was inside, and the street harrasser left to continue tourist harrassment.
The man at the shop was very easy to talk to, he must have been doing this for a long time. We spent about 30 minutes discussing the requirements of various countries regarding working visas. He gets a lot of Aussie customers who live/work in the UK. Of course, they are all repeat customers due to the amazing quality of his product.
I started looking at fabrics. I know, I just had a suit made in KL but on its first wear my father basically told me that it looks like shit so I am pretty over it. This time I chose what I want, rather than what Kirsten thought would look good. After fabric selection we negotiated a price: I get a suit, two shirts and two ties for about what I paid for the suit in KL, which is about a third of what I paid for my Aussie bespoke suit.
After the suit stuff I went in search of yum cha (dim sum), in particular I had a hankering for prawn gow gee. I found a place and got what I wanted, and the most delicious choy sum I have ever had, it was somehow sweet. I also got that other prawn yum cha, thing, I don’t know its name. It is a few prawns in a long rice noodle skin and falls apart when you try to pick it up. Iwas the only non-Chinese in the restaurant, and I became aware of a man staring at me and smiling. We made eye contact and, using sign language, her told me that he was impressed with my chopstick skills. The meal was good, perhaps the prawns were not as good as Aussie ones but again I found that Asian food in Asia is the same as Asian food in Australia.
I went shopping. Ineed to get a new ring as I smashed my last one (as Rohan predicted – the ring was made of hematite. I went to many shops, but as Chinese people are generally smaller, no-one stocked rings that would fit my man-size fingers.
Back to Mong Kok and it was time to shop for computer stuff. I looked at a few places but ended up at Mong Kok Computers, kind of a less-shiny Sim Lim Square (Singapore). The prices were disappointingly the same as dodgy Chinese prices in Australia. I got what I needed, a 1Gb thumbdrive and a USB2 2.5” high speed enclosure. Not expensive.
Back to my hostel room. Nothing had been stolen, so there, pessimistic family. Before long it was time for my fitting so I walked back to Tsim Sha Tsui, stopping at one of the over-plentiful convenience stores to get a refreshing Pocari Sweat. The fitting went well, glad I got it because there was not enough room in the Captain area, perhaps they do this for everyone as an ego boost. I had to kill an hour before the night market opened so I went in search of a bar. During the searc, a bad man made threatening mugging type moves on me but I stood up and made my double size evident and he skulked away. I eventually found a bar where, Dear Reader, I am writing this in my moleskine while drinking my third Carlsberg.
Popularity: 2% [?]
God Bless the open access point!
I am sitting on my bed at the Dragon Hostel in the Mong Kok area of Kowloon. I am drinking a beer which cost me HK$8 ($1.41 Aussie, €0,88). The place is clean, but as it is about 1:30am I don’t know what the other residents are like. I have a room to myself with a double bed and the room is air conditioned.
First Impressions of Hong Kong:
Parts remind me of Kuala Lumpur, specifically the Chinese area of KL. The thing that reminds me is the smell, not a bad smell, but a distinctive smell. I guess it is a Chinese smell, perhaps something to do with spices or incense? It isn’t a tropical thing as I have been to Tropical parts of Australia and Papua New Guinea and the smell wasn’t there. Perhaps I should change the word smell to aroma to avoid any sinister connotations.
The housing looks like crap. Very small apartments in tightly packed, falling apart high rise apartment buildings. The (closed) shops on the streets remind me of Penang, and I saw an open corner store that looked like any asian grocery in Sydney.
But, as I have found everywhere I have been, Hong Kong is only a little different from everywhere else. 7-eleven’s everywhere, a McDonald’s downstairs. I caught a bus from the airport and I was thinking to myself this is not strange, this is like a bus anywhere. Perhaps next time I am here (on my return flight) I will go over to the real parts of China for the real culture shock. I have been reminded of the travel bug, so easy to forget in the happy times with family.
*If any parts of this post are strange, it is because it is a bit of a stream of consciousness experience. My body clock says it is 4:30AM. For those In The Know, don’t worry about my blood levels. They are under control as I have taken steps.
Going to sleep now. Lots of exciting things await me tomorrow.
Popularity: 2% [?]
