Amazing 8 hours of bus joy from Paris to Utrecht. Our driver was intriguing- he was living onboard and had a really neat set up encompassing the first few rows including complete wardrobe, coffee supplies and DVD collection which could all be conveniently bundled into doona and hauled away when we changed drivers in Brussels. Mood in the bus was decidedly less cheery after driver change, partly because of a hysterical crying child with a hysterical laughing doll and partly because the new driver was having major family dramas causing emotional fragility (we know this from hearing his side of the telephone calls, at volume, for the time it took to drive completely across a small country)
Stayed in Gouda (of the cheese) with my second cousin Mick and his wife, Wil. Hadn't met them before we arrived but Mick recognised me straight away at the train station and took us to their AWESOME HOUSE SURROUNDED BY FROZEN CANALS!!! (If we had stayed a few days longer we would have been able to skate on them) Over the next few days I was taken into this beautiful family (a branch of my more immediate beautiful family) and met everyone from great aunts to sixth cousins, saw lots of photos and was fed much 'typical Dutch' cuisine.
Kate and I day-tripped into Amsterdam where the lights are red, Maccas ice-cream cones are still 35c and coffee shops don't just sell coffee. It's a pity when you mention Amsterdam people don't exclaim about the leaning, sinking old buildings surrounded by a crystal clear network of canals criss crossed by an eclectic collection of arched wooden bridges of different gauges, colours and eras but all topped with wild assortments of bicyclesleaning against every upright surface... SUCH a beautiful city (even if it did smell kind of funky) Every restaurant and shop in Amsterdam owns an invariably fat cat that schmoozes with the customers and only sometimes moves out of the way when people want to open the door. Went to Anne Frank's house and museum where there was a fantastic interactive display on the compatibility of democratic governments and human rights. In the evening did a red light district tour. Useful information gleaned included: The oldest prostitute curently working in Amsterdam is 76 and has had a client list for over 30 years, the STI rate for Amsterdam prostitutes is 1% less than the general population and the lights in the windows were originally made red because the colour helps to hide skin blemishes (very important in small-pox times)
My third cousin, Rebecca took us 'out' in Gouda to her members-or-invite-only-night-club, 'so what' (we had to ring the doorbell and be invited in). We listened to weird music, watched Dutch kids dance (read: shuffle and bop), met some of my more obscure relatives and had a generally lovely time. We got home pretty late and went into stealth mode entering the house so as not to wake Wil and Mick... and by 'stealth' I mean 'not-stealth' becasue at 3am the burgular alarm went off loud and clear. And so did the three dogs.
Mick and Wil took us tripping all around the Dutch countryside to dams, dykes and beautiful old villages with gorgeous town halls and quirky little churches. Counted 21 windmills in one field! Got some amazing wooded clogs that can't wait to be painted back in Australia. The literal translation of the Dutch phrase for cobblestones is 'children's skulls'. xx
