Day 274 - Bloomin' Holland

If there’s one thing the Netherlands is known for among people who know pretty much nothing about the Netherlands its tulips. So spending a year here I’d feel like a bit of a failure if I came home without visiting the infamous Keukenhof flower garden. Just as some background, the privately run park boasts 4.5 million tulips in 100 varieties, lovingly landscaped (and planted by hand) around 15km of footpaths over 32 hectares of land! It is literally a horticulturalist’s Disneyland.

It took us about 3 hours by train/bus to reach the park, near the town Lisse, south-west of Amsterdam. From the moment we entered the gates our eyes were bombarded with an explosion of colour and our noses with a waft of flower perfume. The red tulips first caught my attention, but as we wandered in and out of pathways, through garden mazes, up lookouts and around fountains I discovered so many colours and varieties I never knew existed. Some of the more interesting variety names included “Night Club”, “Teletubbies” and my personal favourite “Erupties” – these weird spikey lookin’ flowers with bunches of tulips hanging underneath a kind of crown of leaves much like a pineapple. What a name!

Erupties!!!

Generally, the landscaping was so impressive, with grouping of flowers either meant to startle by contrast (think blue, red and yellow all in a bunch) or to please the eye in shades of one colour (ie. purples, magenta’s, pinks and maroons). I was also impressed by the depth of the displays, with flowers of all different shapes and heights they seemed almost 3D.


  

It’s peak tourist season for the park at the moment (it’s open from march 24 to may 20, but the annual centrepiece parade was held yesterday) however the crowds weren’t too overwhelming and the place had quite a peaceful feel to it (even with the small children running around everywhere) courtesy of all the water features and the pleasant smell in the air. My only gripe was with the tourists who decided to completely ignore the copious “please do not touch the grass” signs and tromp all over it in search of the perfect photo op. Now, don’t get me wrong, we took our fair share of snaps (in fact, embarrassingly, all of us left with either a flat camera battery or a full memory card) but we were generally as respectful as possible. In contrast, there were grown women forcing their children out into the middle of big bunches of expensive, hand-planted flowers and lovingly manicured grass to get their photos. I felt sorry for the grass in a way, it gave the perfect uniform backdrop to the bursts of colour from the flowers but was pretty much taken for granted.

   


After about five hours in the park we decided to venture out into the actual tulip fields (commercial growing) for a squiz before heading home. This was the one time we may have ignored the signs… We were very gentle and light-footed but it was worth it actually be able to walk out amongst those rows and rows of brilliant flowers.

 




By then we’d had our fill of all things Dutch and touristy (if you count cycling to the station in the morning, eating ham rolls and poffejes in the park and drinking Heineken, taking photos of the fake windmill in the park, and of course all the flowers) we called it a day and made the 3 hour trek home. So it was more than 6 hours travel for about 6 hours of tulips. But as I said, it had to be done. Now all we have to check off the list are some heritage listed windmills and a spot of cheese rolling! Stay tuned…

Days 261 to 265 - Far, Faro away

(NB: I TRIED to be more succinct this time but its clearly going to take work!)

Day 261 (Tues)
So I did something naughty this week … I left the country without finishing an assignment - GASP! (Don’t worry Dad, I did get it finished when I returned!) but in the meantime I took a little sojourn to Portugal for 4 days with 4 lovely girls. On this trip we had the pleasure of flying out of Maastricht Airport, literally half an hour away by bus compared to 2 hour train rides to Amsterdam or Brussels airports, and it’s a pity we can’t fly out of “home-base” more often but unfortunately the routes from there are limited to say the least.


Regardless, we made the most of it this time, and after a truly stellar effort by Andra (Canada) to get to the bus stop in a flat 7 minutes after sleeping through her alarm (fully dressed and brandishing all the necessary documents no less!) we were up, up and away. Our destination was the port town of Faro in southern Portugal. All the travel guides recommend using the place for its budget airline airport, staying one night and moving on but we actually had the most relaxing and engaging 4 days without getting anywhere near a big city.


The gang for this trip


The first afternoon was spent wandering around the Marina, with views over the ocean and the airport which juts out over the water, discovering the old town and receiving an impromptu tour for 5 of the most interesting church I’ve seen in Europe so far, comprising about eight different altars. At dinner time we were sucked in by the “Playboy of Portugal” to eat at his restaurant – no joke this guy is apparently famous on YouTube for being a bit too smooth with the tourists! But, after watching us struggle to de-bone our whole (albeit delicious) fish, he did help us find a cosy, as the Dutch say, little bar for few caprihna’s and portugese beer afterwards.


AMAZING lunch on the first day - that's one WHOLE slice of bread!


Crazy enormous birds nest - and they were everywhere in Faro!


Day 262 (Wed)
The plan today was to get a ferry out to the Ilha Deserta (literally the deserted island) off the coast of Faro but when the solemn-faced man at the ferry ticket office told us the boats weren’t running that day because of 5ft waves (or was it 5m, I’m no good nautically) we weren’t complaining – we headed for the beach instead. A 20 minute bus ride out of town, there’s this curious strip of sand with crashing waves on one side, a few holiday houses in the middle and this kind of bay on the other side which abuts the airport (and means crazy views over the beach as we landed yesterday). The sun was shining but there was a fair wind whipping up the beach. It didn’t stop us from settling in with our supermarket picnic lunches and soaking up the rays. (Now, Dad, I’ll admit, I got a bit of colour, but can you blame my poor skin, its been eight months since it saw proper sunshine! Nothing too serious though). And, I’m proud to report we even went swimming – the waves were crashing, the water was probably about 10C and quite deep past the break point, but we dived in and pretended to like it! Mostly though it was just wonderful to have that sandy, salty, beach feeling again after so long. Back on the beach there was time for a cheeky beer (although its actually legal to drink on the beach) and then back into town for dinner (featuring eel stew, if you fancy!)

Bright sun over the beach

Day 263 (Thurs)
To the edge of the world, and beyoooond! That was the plan today as our group took a 3-hour train/bus trip to Sagres, the south-western most point of continental Europe (sometimes called “the edge of the world”) where these imposing cliffs rise straight out of the water, and the wind whips across the landscape, roughing up the waves. Looking out over the sea the next land mass is apparently Canada so there was just nothing as far as the eye could see and the sea just seemed to melt into the sky above. It was pretty sobering to think of explorers just setting off from a point quite like that and not knowing what they’d come across or if they’d ever return. Just as coursgeous were the crazy fisherman perched on the high cliffs with fishing rods! And heading back to the bus we experienced the other highlight of the day (of course involving food) - cracking a cold Sagres Portugese beer in its namesake town :D

The girls looking out over the cliffs which formed a few bays - Canada out to the right of this photo somewhere!

Sagres in Sagres!

That night we had a taste of the Portugese nightlife and it was the first time I have felt truly European because we didn’t head out until about 1am! All the euro kids in Maastricht head out to pubs and clubs so late they make us Aussies look like grandmas with our dinner at 8pm and home by maybe 2am. This night we had dinner about 11pm (where Andra scored meal of the night with an intriguing octopus and sweet potato hot pot type dish), drinks for a couple of hours (included a few glasses of Faro’s finest 1 euro-per-glass red wine!) and then explored a few clubs down some cobbled streets. When the last place closed at 6am we strolled to the Marina to watch the sunrise and flopped into bed about 7am :)

Sittin' on the dock o' the bay - where we watched the sun come up

Day 264 (Fri)
Our last full day in Faro was spent recovering(!) and soaking in the 28C weather, about 13C warmer than when we’d left Maastricht. I also continued my tradition of an espresso (which I seem to like every now and then in Europe but will probably never drink again when I get home) and these awesome portugese custard tarts. After a stroll to a park with gum trees(!), Ally, one of the other girls (all of whom were Canadian), and I went on an open boat tour out into the harbour and ocean. The water was beautiful and calm and the weather perfect. Even better was the company, a bustly mother from London and her gorgeous 3 year old son Joe, who took QUITE a liking to Ally. After trying to hold her hand numerous times little Joe even got up the courage to ask Ally if she’d like to go home with him?! Now there’s the real playboy in Portugal :P


Ally and her Portugese 'fling' :


Ally's amazing shot from our boat of a boat out on the water


Day 265 (Sat)
Unfortunately it was a very early flight home (leaving for the airport at 5am) but at least we were flying directly back to home-base. Pity I was also flying home to a 4000 word essay to finish … but definitely worth it :)

An open letter to my fans...

I'd like to start this post with an apology to my loyal followers... all 13 of you :P I'm sorry for being so long-winded and linguisticly indulgent. I've just finished reading a friend's blog of her time here in Maastricht and it is succinct, witty, to the point but observational but overall, as Goldie Locks would put it, juuuuust right :)

I on the other hand have been carried away lately with the freedom the internet affords in terms of space. After 5.5 years of cutting copy to fit newspaper holes and trying to make every word count the luxury of an online ramble has got the better of me. Which should not be a surprise to anyone who's spent any time with me in person and tried to get a word in edgeways! Regardless, I fully intended to keep these posts short, sharp and to the point when I started (60 posts ago!) ... but then this blog became a kind of record for posterity as much as an exercise in a different kind of writing. And I didn't want to have to cut anything anymore in case I was one day too senile to remember these times.

The consequence I realise though is that it's probably not always very readable unless you're my parents and then you have to spend the time wading through it anyway! So, from this post on I will try valiantly to keep my loquaciousness in check!

Countin' down the days ... and stocking up the cupboard!

Just a quick one to say there's less than 100 days left of 'my year of peanut butter' ... and that I may have bought 2 jars of peanut butter at one time recently, when it was again safe to have it in the cupboard after the departure of a certain visitor. AND I may also have got my housemate addicted to Jumbo brand crunchy peanut butter. But that's about all for 'my year of peanut butter' related things for now...!

Day 254 - Hup HOLLAND Hup!

Day 254 (Tues) My Euro 'football' experience

Now I’m more of an AFL girl than a soccer fanatic. At home I really only go to the soccer if the tickets are free! And I regularly put Brett and my mother to shame with my complete lack of knowledge or interest in the players or the rules. BUT this was not going to stop me from experiencing a real European ‘football’ match. And so, with the excited encouragement of Nakita (Sydney ) (who has been desperate to see a match since we landed on foreign soil) it came to be that I found myself on a coach, with her and Andra (Canada), headed for Amsterdam’s Ajax stadium to watch none other than our new adopted ‘home’ team (and almost world champions, need I remind you) take on Hungary. Apparently it was some sort of ‘qualifiying’ match for some European competition next year, but it didn’t really matter to me…

The bus ride there was an interesting experience in itself as we quickly realised it was full of vocal American students (vocal about being American that is) and the rest mostly Canadians and one or two other stray Aussies. It was a three hour ride but the driver only turned some music on about half an hour out from the stadium. So in the meantime we were serenaded by the American ‘choir’ sitting in the back half of the bus and their trusty portable speakers. We were all decked out in orange – such a flattering colour that we had to buy most of our gear as, really, who OWNS orange clothing – while the finishing touches (think faces covered in dutch-flag-coloured face paint) were added on the way.

  

on the bus - pre face painting

We arrived at the stadium about 7pm for 8.30pm kick off. There were already hordes of Dutchies streaming into the stadium complex, dressed head to toe in their national colour. They’re much more creative than us Aussies who usually just chuck on an Australia jersey or a flag around the shoulders and maybe a fake tattoo on a bicep or two or some sort of zinc-face paint design if we’re particularly feeling it. Instead, the Dutchies were walking around in DIY costumes made of fake orange fur, hats with lions heads on top (the team symbol… I think!) or full body lion suits, one guy even had this crazy hat/wig on made of these wobbly organge jelly spikes!! So needless to say it was an entertaining atmosphere as we made our way to our ticket gate – stopping for  Grolsch on the way. And its lucky we did because Ajax Stadium is 100 per cent alcohol free inside. Now this is probably not such a bad idea given the propensity of European soccer fans to beat each other to a pulp over the slightest disagreement(!). But what we found really odd was the stadium operator’s decision to offer alcohol free beer inside instead! (which by the way apparently tatsted awful).

the stadium

crazy Dutch supporters who crashed our photo

the Grolsch!!

Regardless, alcohol was not necessary to enjoy the night – the on-field action was far more engaging than expected and I probably would have just spilled anything I was drinking over the guy in front of me (who happened to be a Hungary supporter). Our group was RIGHT up in the nose-bleed section, sort of behind one of the goals but in the corner. And our two rows of English speaking, flag waving, over-excited student-tourists certainly drew a bit of attention from the rows of Dutchies behind us.

As for the match itself, Holland scored about 13 minutes into the first half and the Oranje crowd went nuts. The paper flags we found on our seats were out and the Dutch songs were sung (we just kind of yelled). Unfortunately though that was as much excitement as we were treated to in the first half – while the inaction led to a lot of Mexican waves, clapping to various beats and more Dutch singing (and some abuse!) The second half was a complete turn around. True to form, I missed the first goal of the half (by Hungary!) because I looked away for a split second. And then before we knew it Hungary scored again! Nakita was going nuts because she had decided Hungary needed to score to get the Dutchies fired up so we would actually have a game on our hands. And was she right or what? All up there were seven goals scored in the second half, quite a few in quick succession. We were up and down constantly, jumping around, waving our orange flags and yelling "Oh Ja, Oh Ja" and “Hup Holland Hup” cause apparently that’s what you do...

lining up for the national anthems - first time we'd actually heard the Dutch one I think!

some of the action

At the end of the game the final score was 5-3, we’d all lost our voices and even the three Hungary fans in front of us seemed to be satisfied with an exciting game (keeping in mind Holland thumped Hungary 4-0 the week before). Getting out of the stadium seemed to take a while but really it was all very well organised. No time for a celebratory beer on the way out though as it was back to the bus to get home. The game finished about 11pm so we didn’t make it back to Maastricht until about 2am (needless to say the bus was much quieter on the way home) and then we still had to cycle home from where the bus dropped us off!

NB: Ironically, Australia also played just over the border in Germany that night and they won too. So it seems both my ‘home’ countries did alright :D