Clothes washing. Dear god, doesn't that sound interesting!

I've had a lot of time to think of different ways to wash and dry my clothes in order to avoid paying for it. The following is a photo montage of my efforts for drying, because, well, when I'm washing my hands are wet.

I must say, the blow dry from the bike is pretty thorough. Although, if you mishandle your bicycle or lean it up against something, you can be back at square one.

Day one of bicycling across three countries.

I would characterize my outlook at this point as optimistic. And more than a teensy bit worried. Can you tell?

So, I did what all enterprising people do and I delayed. I packed, I fooled around on the internet, I went to the supermarket, I purchased some different maps. I even went to an exhibit at the Franz Hals Museum in Haarlem (mum had said she wanted to go, so I couldn't leave without having seen it, now could I?). Brief overview... (I think I'm now orchestrating some grand double procrastination by procrastinating describing my first day cycling)... I love the technique/execution of the Dutch Masters, but, in general, I'm not enthused by their subjects. The aristocrats, bible stories, etc. However, the following are a selection that I *did* really like.

This particular painting was fun, because that building, the Town Hall in Haarlem's Market Square, is still there. I've stood in the spot that those people stood in 1671. Bizarre.

 I'm not going to lie, I kind of like this portion of the painting because that flag says "VROOM."

And this still life is so rich, it inspired some of my lunch choices at the supermarket.

Ok. Fine.

This is an essay of a kind every primary school kid has written a million times over. The first day of school. The jitters, the excitement, the preparation. And like the first day of school, the parents are there to send me off, and will be in Paris to receive me when the month is over, holding washing powder, band aids, and presumably enough food for an army--I really am 28, I swear.

After saying goodbye to the parents, I was solo again (fast forward through three hours of procrastination). I started off biking, and all was going well. I was belting out some tunes, or rather, singing the three lines I know of each song that came on from my ipod playlist and ruining the rest with whatever I wanted. I took pictures of fields, of myself, of myself and fields. I attempted to take candid timed photos of myself so that every photograph I take away from this trip isn't a semi-angled shot of aforementioned field or windmill with my face monstrously superimposed on the foreground. And, let's face it, to make it seem like I have some friends.

I cycled into my final destination, having decided on an ultra-leisurely 35 kms to start this trip (I have almost a whole month. Shush. Also, I was worried about actually being able to set up the tent I'd bought and not yet used. And, I'm not a cyclist. Sheesh). I arrived as the sun was getting low, and looked at a couple of campgrounds, not finding the exact one I wanted. Then--panic. I'd forgotten my camera back where I'd had lunch. 12km away (remember tranquil candid photograph? I did). I hopped on my bike, and cycled all the way back (it must be said, I did this same section in about a quarter of the time). It wasn't there. I got to know all of the neighbours of that particular canal frontage. I did some serious knocking, then scoped out the local police station--which was closed--and bunked down a little ways along the road by a canal (I couldn't be bothered biking back to where I'd planned, and it was getting dark). Some nice fishermen had set up there, too, so I was among friends. Albeit new friends. If only I'd had my camera to take a picture of the fact that I had friends. We chatted and watched the swans land for the night. Those things are loud! Especially when their landing is less than perfect.

All night, Michael's fish tripwire alert went off as he got "line swimmers" as he called them. To no success. Jared, you would have liked his fancy setup, I think. I heard later that the next day he caught two quite large carp. Luckily, as sleep is my minor superpower, I just went straight back to sleep each time.

At 5:30am I woke up, bathed in an orange/pink glow. Stumbling out of my tent I swore at myself for losing my camera on one of the most beautiful days I've ever seen. I snapped a couple of ipod shots, but they don't do it justice.

I then had coffee and breakfast with Michael. He fed an agressive swan *his* breakfast, and I got on my way. 12km later (again) I checked in at the camping grounds I'd gone to--just in case--and yes, there was my camera, safe and sound. Happy, but a little embarrassed, I then spent a euro on the best shower I've ever had (that lasted exactly five minutes before it shuts off) at the campground where I retrieved my camera.

Morals of the story? I'm really not sure. I had one of the best nights/mornings ever. Look after your belongings, don't let yourself get too cocky/excited, and embrace the unexpected, I guess.

They like to bike, you say?

The Netherlands is a little bit bike crazy. Just a little bit. It is absolutely wonderful to cycle here. You look in any direction and you can see someone on a bicycle.

However, some things to note. They are very casual about their biking--I was, and still am, just about the only person wearing a helmet... Give or take the puffs of smoke resembling people I see zooming past, that are probably actually athletes training for the olympics, and are undoubtedly sponsored by a helmet company (Linnea, was that you?!). See, even this guy wasn't wearing his helmet. What would his mother think?

Also, they generally have beater bikes with the biggest chains you've ever seen. This tells me that the bike theft problem is no joke. This leads me to the next point. Free inside parking! Amazing. This place was run by the city of Haarlem and was free during the day (.50 euro overnight). Absolutely wonderful to know that Hedgiflora was safe and warm inside before we started out on our journey :)

Dunedin Reunion!

On the second day of hanging out with mum and dad, we got to meet up with our lovely family friend, Rita, who happens to live just north of Haarlem in Driehuis. We decided to have a leisurely brunch and then get in more bike riding so as to ease me in to this whole exercise thing that I've not really been doing so much of lately. This in mind, we went for a trip through the dunes to the west of Haarlem and even got in a wee walk along the shore of the North Sea. The area is blustery, beautiful, and filled with people celebrating the end of another winter. Just to clarify... while the long brown pants may have been dad's clothing of choice regardless, he *had* had his suitcase lost on the flight over, and at this point hadn't received it from the airline. I just feel like he and his attire need a little defending :)

Along the way there were Highland Cattle. On the flat coast of the Netherlands? What? Apparently these have been introduced to keep down an invasive species of plants. I hope that this is the one and only time this practice has actually worked, and that these creatures aren't going to multiply uncontrollably or undermine this particular ecosystem à la the cane toads. Oh the cane toads. Jo Galletly, I thought you'd appreciate this one. No, I didn't get to ride one (the highland cattle, not the cane toads--although I don't think it's possible to ride one of those).

We wished Andrew and Hester could be with us to complete the family fun. Hmmm... time to plan where that reunion could be...

Timing is everything!

Due to an early warm patch throughout Europe, springtime came early to the Netherlands. I missed <giant sad face> the big fields of tulips grown commercially for bulbs. There were remnants here and there, but that only served to reinforce my desire to see them someday. Luckily, there are many more opportunities for this, and it's good to have these things to look forward to. The following are the patches I saw here and there. Most had already been decapitated (when growing for bulbs, the flower is beheaded early on so the bulb will get more nutrients).

However, some gardens were still in bloom, and the parents (we overlapped here for two days as we travelled in different directions--so nice!) and I rode our bikes 40km round trip to see some of the best. I still got to use my tulip wow-face. The ride itself was beautiful (especially on the way there as we followed canal paths).

The gardens we visited are called Kukenhof, and are full of tulips. They also had amazing azaleas that were blooming perfectly for us.

I like this last picture, because I think that the people look like tulips popping up out of the ground. Beautiful.

Introducing Petunia Hedgiflora non punctuata

Nope, not a rare flower, my bicycle. Lovely Mr. Andrew Crooks was good enough to take two trips to the giant big box store in Berlin with me. He, unluckily, had to do all of the talking. But in the end, thanks to him, I have this beautiful bike--Hedgiflora. We even took it for a few test runs.

Tricked out with panniers and all sorts of bells and whistles it was time to leave Berlin :( I had a lovely time visiting Andrew and his flatmates were the pinnacle of welcoming.


So, I said goodbye to Andrew and hopped the train to Amsterdam, from where the biking adventures would begin. The train system was so easy, and adding a bike to my ticket only cost an extra ten euros. Fantastic. Seemed only a little bit strange to start out the journey by putting my transportation onto a train. But, however, that's how it all worked out.

Historical wanderings

Andrew and I took a trip to Potsdam, southwest of Berlin, and started at Schloss Cecilienhof, the site of the Postdam Conference. We went there with a new friend, Dorothea, who we met at an Easter brunch. Cecilienhof is a palace. It was built in English Tudor style, and is still decorated as it would have been during the Postdam Conference. The table is the one the big three, Churchill (later Atlee), Stalin, and Truman sat at July 17–August 2 1945 as they divided up Europe, declared terms of surrender for Japan, and made strategies for Germany's future (disclaimer: I'm so not a political historian). The flowers arranged in a red star were to the tastes of Stalin (and other decorations reflected the tastes of the other leaders).

We then went to a local building that had been restored since the area was reunited with West Germany. Dorothea had been to it when it was covered in Cyrillic writing, and was completely derelict. She talked a lot about the changes in this area since the wall went down. It was really interesting to have someone around who had been there and seen it all happen. There was a fascinating video on the reconstruction process, and there were even some restorers still working on some paint/tile work on ceilings.

 We had a lovely lunch of soup, visited by a Peking duck (yes I do love the creatures) fortuitously sitting out a storm inside after watching the clouds roll in.

Afterward we went to Sanssouci grounds, the site of a palace for the Prussian royal family, and walked through the grassy fields looking at different beautiful buildings and sculptures.

How did I end up spending 8 euro on this?

Andrew and I were biking along, going to see friends of his for cake and coffee, when we stumbled upon a miniature model village. Andrew was reluctant, so I treated us, only to realize three minutes in, that it was a model village. Hmmm. In the spirit of making the best of it . . .