I always end up sitting down to try to encapsulate a plethora of
experiences in one little blog post. I guess it’s the consequence of not
writing as I go along (which I really should get better at).
A trip to the beach.
The past weeks we’ve had some beautiful hot spells with warm weather,
blazing sunshine- in fact, the perfect weather to go to the beach. Last week we
rearranged our schedule on popped to Zandfoort, one of the “local” beaches only
oh, maybe 30 minutes on the train from Amsterdam.
Now remember I am used to Norwegian beaches (beautiful sandy beaches
with just a few people here and there, if any) and Brazilian beaches (beautiful
wide sandy beaches usually with a vast amount of people). In my Norwegianness I
kind of figured a Dutch beach would be more similar to the Norwegian version,
and I must admit that as we were cramped into the train with hundreds of other
people who had also thought of the good idea of going to the beach, I was a tad
worried, wondering where we would all fit.
The train arrived and we shuffled with the multitudes off the train and
up the stairs in direction of the beach. (In my mind I was still trying to
figure out where all the people would fit) After a quick stop at the supermarket
to get some snacks we went in direction of the beach. A friend was already
there at number 19 (which made me very puzzled as I had no idea how we would
find this “number 19”, thankfully my other friends had been there before).
As we got to the top of the beach (you kind of had to walk down a little
hill to get onto it) I was amazed. In front of me I saw to my great surprise a
beach that looked a lot more like a Brazilian beach. A wide, sandy beach full
of people, parasols, sun chairs, little restaurants along the top of it and
people enjoying the beautiful day. Oh, how at home I felt. I quickly removed my
havaianas and stepped into the soft
sand. It was amazing. We walked along (and I discovered that “19” meant section
19) a few sections at the waterfront it was so lovely to see young and old
enjoying a day on the beach. Children playing in the water, teenagers playing
football, many people swimming and enjoying the sea. And of course the sea! I love
the sea. It’s so majestic and powerful and I am constantly in awe of how
amazing it is that this vast mass of water comes up to a certain point of the
beach and no further. Only God to design it that way.
We found our friends and I got in a good few hours in the sun. I even
went paddling and the water wasn’t too bad (a tad cold to swim, but others
clearly didn’t feel the same way as many were swimming along). And there were
lots and lots of the most beautiful seashells of which I picked a handful to
take home to my nieces. It was a great afternoon. And again I realize I was
created for warmer climates and that it’s nice to have a tan.
Boiling canal.
As in Kansas City, the weather goes from one extreme to the other. One
day we have blazing sunshine, the next pouring rain and lower temperatures. Or,
like today and yesterday, blazing sunshine one moment, and then a sudden shift
to pouring rain (I got completely soaked riding my bike yesterday, soaked to
the point where there was no point “trying” to stay dry).
However, on Wednesday I saw something I’ve never seen in my life before.
It was raining very very hard and since we’re 3 meters below sea level the
water doesn’t really have anywhere to go. This leads to our basements getting flooded.
Not because the canal outside our house transcends its borders, but because the
pressure of the water on the foundation of the houses is so much that the water
is pressed through the bricks and the wall (it is a strange phenomenon).
Anyway, Wednesday it was looking ominous and the guy who manages the
building was very concerned when it started to rain. And then he told us we
would probably flood coz the canal was “boiling”. It’s the strangest thing when
a canal “boils”. I think the masses of water are so great the air is pressed to
the surface, hence creating a “boiling” effect. It was strange standing outside
my house seeing the canal bubbling away, praying we would not flood (it was so
unpleasant last time to be removing a mixture of canal water, rain water, and
unmentionable water, and when it is coming through the wall there really is no
way of blocking the source).
Well, the end of the story is we didn’t flood in the end. The rain
subsided and we ended up having a great evening of ladies ministry (where I yet
again got to struggle through conversations in my “portanhol” which is a
spanified Portuguese). But it was good. I still wonder though, what happenes
when it rains so much that the canals overflow… what will we do then?
Biking.
Well, I don’t know if I’ve yet blogged about my bike which I call my “brown
blessing”. It’s a very old bike which is more of a mix of brown, red spray paint,
and orange rust in color. And it’s missing a screw in the front so when I ride
it makes a scrangling noise. I have a bright orange bell on it which has the
loveliest little ring, and makes it feel a little less rude to ring when people
are in my way (often I just slow down and wait for an opportunity to pass them,
which is very not the Dutch way). So after my initial months of really being
quite content without a bike, I have now very much got a hang of the whole “biking
in Amsterdam”. And let’s face it, with
thousands of tourist newbies on bikes, I’m not the most dangerous person
on the road.
But I must say that my theory that I would not end up with more time by
biking instead of walking has proven to be correct. It seems that life has
gotten a little bit more hectic since I’ve become more mobile, and I find that I
think I have more time then I do and then have to rush (or rather, bike a bit
faster) to make it places on time.
So there you go. Some small glimpses of doing life in Amsterdam.
So there you go. Some small glimpses of doing life in Amsterdam.