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.
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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.
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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.
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I went to have a look at a room yesterday in De Baarsjes, not an encouraging experience. Despite the 2
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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.
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OK, a quick summary.
After seeing the fox in London, Mel and Jem hired a car and we drove to Wales for the weekend. I saw a few old castles and a Roman bath house. We stayed overnight in a country town, afraid for our lives as it was swarming with yobbos and Wales had just lost the football. The next day we saw an ancient burial site, a little like a mini hunnebed.
Back in London, I spent a day in the Natural History Museum, and then an hour or so in the Science Museum. I met up with Simon Abela and GF, Luke and Penny Swords at a pub in Paddington. It was good to catch up with everyone, and I will be seeing them again when I return, hopefully Chris Sharkey will be able to come as well.
Back to Amsterdam for a day or two, then I said goodbye to Kirsten and my house, packed all my stuff and got on a plane to Kuala Lumpur. I had to freight my second suitcase – the airline wanted €800+ excess baggage fees. It ended up costing €180 or so.
In KL I went back to the tailor’s to (finally) pick up my finished suit, outside I bought an Ajax shirt for the equivalent of €3, lucky I didn’t spend the €60 in Amsterdam. I spent the rest of the day in the Pan Pacific Hotel KL, and it was great. If you have a stopover I highly recommend staying at a nice hotel and sleeping.
I got back to Sydney early on the morning of September 9th. The plan was to go to see Sampson but I slept instead.
I went up to the Mountains on Saturday and saw Mum, Michelle, Luke, and was introduced to SAMPSON. He was beautiful and when I held him in my arms I fell in love straight away, like a chick. I told him that I am his favourite uncle, and I could tell by the way that he didn’t poo that he agreed. He was so small and helpless, and hairy. Michelle calls him her cheeky monkey.
Monday the 12th of September was the sixth anniversary of my first post to this blog.
Thursday the 15th I flew down to Melbourne for Adam and Bits’ wedding, I shared an apartment with Chris and Mei-Ling, with Mel, Jem, Jan and John just down the hall. We went out Thursday night for a nice meal, Adam and Bits broke tradition by seeing each other the night before.
Friday the 16th was the wedding, Bits was the most beautiful, most bride-like bride I have ever seen. The ceremony was short, after which those of us in the wedding party had photos taken of us for almost 4 hours. Yay. The reception was on the beach at St Kilda, an example of the attention to detail: the little bag of lollies that they gave us perfectly matched the colours on my tie. There were no bad speeches, Mel was nervous but did a good job anyway, and when she said that Adam was her best friend the whole room said “aww”.
Saturday we went drinking with people from the wedding and some of Jem’s friends, and then Saturday night Chris, Mei-Ling and I went out to dinner with the newlyweds. The next day was spent with Mel and Jem, and Jem’s sister Liss. In the afternoon the three of us were sitting next to each other on the plane to Sydney. M&J then got a connecting flight to London and I went home.
I started work at Positive on the 26th, on a short contract to help out whilst a replacement was found for (me) Paul and Toutou.
So that was an abbreviated September. Stay tuned for October.
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van Frans Bauer
Jalalalala, jalalalala
Ik kwam jou tegen oheo,
jij was verlegen oheo.
Loop nu al dagen oheo,
want ik wil je wat vragen oheo.
Heb je even voor mij,
maak wat tijd voor me vrij.
Ieder uur van de dag denk ik steeds aan jouw lach alleen jij maakt me blij.
Heb je even voor mij,
maak wat tijd voor me vrij
Zeg me wat ik moet doen want ik wacht op die zoen kom vanavond bij mij.
Jallalalala, jalalalala
Ik zit te dromen oheo,
of jij zult komen oheo. Laat het me weten oheo,
ik kan jou niet vergeten oheo.
Heb je even voor mij,
maak wat tijd voor me vrij.
Ieder uur van de dag denk ik steeds aan jouw lach alleen jij maakt me blij.
Heb je even voor mij,
maak wat tijd voor me vrij.
Zeg me wat ik moet doen want ik wacht op die zoen kom vanavond bij mij.
Jalalalalala Jalalalala
Heb je even voor mij,
maak wat tijd voor me vrij.
Ieder uur van de dag denk ik steeds aan jouw lach alleen jij maakt me blij.
Heb je even voor mij maak wat tijd voor me vrij.
Zeg me wat ik moet doen want ik wacht op die zoen
kom vanavond bij mij.
This is such a lame song, but I can’t get it out of my head.
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Tonight someone was speaking to me in Dutch and I didn’t realise it. I just understood as if they were speaking English.
So I had “the moment” on one of my last nights in Amsterdam. Oh! Cruel fate, why do you mock me?
I will really miss this city. There is so much that I didn’t see.
*note to family: the title of this post refers to the Alanis Morissette song “Ironic”, and is not some coded message about my emotional state. So stop worrying.
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Last night Kirsten sat down and announced that she was breaking up with me. The reason given was that we have different priorities for the future: I intend to someday have a family, she does not. Whilst I agree with that assessment, I would have preferred a different solution (i.e. doing it my way).
The universal response has been shock. Our families and friends, and myself, did not see this coming. It always seemed that we were “meant to be”. I have always been aware that Kirsten is very commitment-phobic and values her independence above all else, but I did not expect this.
I have never been the dumpee before, having always been the initiator of a breakup, and I would say that it is a bit easier on this side of the fence. I do not have the guilt of having hurt someone close to me.
I now have less than three weeks left in Europe before I return to Australia for the birth of my first nephew and the wedding of my best friend. The plan was to stay for 2 weeks and then return to NL, but this will not be happening. So I have a bit over 2 weeks left to fit in 6 months of planned travel. I will go to Antwerp in the next few days to buy chocolates for my sister, and perhaps from there go on to Paris. Mel and Jem, Jan and John arrive in A’dam on Friday and are spending the long weekend with us here, after which I return to London with Mel and Jem. I will spend a week with them, return to Amsterdam for one day to say goodbye to everyone, then off to KL and then home.
I don’t yet know what to do after that, but when I do, Dear Reader, you will be one of the first to know.
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I come from a country where businesses want you to give them money. In many cases, the purpose of a business is to get money from people.
A different philosophy is used in the Netherlands. The purpose of businesses here is solely to employ people, and those people are employed to say “that is not possible” (dat kan niet).
An example, common exchange:
Darryn: “hello business, I would like to give you money for your goods and/or services”
Dutch business: “that is not possible”
I am charged $5 by my Australian bank every time I use an ATM here. So I want to get a Dutch bank account.
The first step is to get a social security number. That took a month, 7 phone calls and 2 visits to the tax office. On my last, and successful, visit, I was told nine times that giving me a number was not possible. One of the reasons, told to me while holding my passport on the work permit page, was that I did not have a work permit. Having a work permit is not considered proof that you have a work permit. Luckily I had the letter from the government that said “you have a work permit, the official permit is in your passport”. So I got the sofinummer.
Two weeks ago I tried to get a bank account. I had ID, I had my sofinummer, I had every document I could think of. Dat kan niet. To open a bank account, I need a contract that lists my current address. They suggested I bring in my mobile phone contract. I pointed out that you can’t get a mobile phone contract without a bank account number. I asked what I could do. She just looked at me. The conversation was over.
So I sent in an expired cashback coupon to the mobile phone company in the hope that they would send me back a letter with my address printed on it. Last week the letter came, just as I has hoped. As a bonus, they gave me the cashback as well.
Today I went in to the bank, armed with my passport, my driver’s licence, my international driver’s licence, my official sofinummer certificate, all documentation relating to my visa, the mobile phone letter, and all of my other documents. I even brought a few hundred euros cash in case they needed a large deposit to open an account.
Dat kan niet.
It is not possible to open a bank account in the Netherlands without an employment contract with a Dutch company, and proof of income. I explained that I was doing work on the internet, which has no borders and am not employed by an official Dutch company. I explained that I had money which I wanted to give to the bank. I was told that I should have made an appointment, and when I get a job I can come in to make an appointment to apply for a bank account.
It will not surprise you to learn that you cannot get paid in the Netherlands without a Dutch bank account, they only do direct deposit into Dutch accounts. One of the required fields on an employment contract is bank account number.
I feel like a latter-day Yossarian.
Exception: None of the foreign companies I have dealt with here suffer from this. I have had business with both Sony and Sunglass Hut and both have given fantastic service, politely replacing broken goods that I did not even buy in the country, with no questions asked. The employees that I dealt with were Dutch.
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