It's 7am here on the Farm in Ardboe. Birds are chirping and the sun is warming my back through the open blinds. Yesterday I took a quick road trip to my familys' because even when you're away you have to get away from it all sometimes! I forgot how cathartic a bus trip can be... all that thinking while looking out at moving grass and sheep.
Yesterday I got the news that my brother got engaged. (This was after the bus trip - more thinking!) Not unexpected but great news! A long relationship but short engagement it looks like. It's a good motivator for me to hurry up with my trips and hurry up with any more weight loss I hope to obtain! Wine's a fruit right? Ugh. At least I started running again. Running on sand is a welcomed change with a sore neck from twisting it left staring at the rolling waves, sometimes jolting right if my judgement on how far they're going to roll in is off.
I still wake up and go to sleep feeling lucky that it sounds as if the waves are crashing into my apartment building. Those damn seagulls remind me now and then that their conversation is unwelcome through my window at ungodly hours.
Once I see my upcoming work-week there may be a last minute trip to Edinburough, the place I thought I'd live in the UK. Hopefully I don't fall in love with it.
Oh and for those of you wondering, my St Patricks day was quite shit. But I always find that most days that you HAVE to do something fun turn out that way.
Wednesday, 21 March 2012
Saturday, 3 March 2012
Dank u Amsterdam
've been dreading writing this a bit as I know it'll be a long-winded post and draining. What a 'wee lazy bastard' eh?
My second day in Amsterdam pretty much consisted of getting lost, finding a floating flower market and a delicious dinner in an Amsterdam Irish pub on the canal with a pint of Heineken. Turns out I don't much care for that beer so 'happy days' I skipped the tour.
My last two days were my favourite and although no new friends to speak of I had a brief encounter with a fellow Vancouver girl trying to find her way around. Good luck!
(And this is where I have to stop for air.)
Although the tales of the Anne Frank Huis 'que' were a bit off-putting this was my main mission in Amsterdam. I arrived early enough and the line up moved quickly. It feels that writing about such an experience won't live up to such a notable place that housed ordinary people at that time. I may fail in my efforts to convey the emotion I felt and how much it meant and pained me to stand where they once tip-toed and to read where they once whispered. To see the pictures of the Jews being lined up on the street where I stood to a horrible fate was chilling. I wanted so much in that moment to go back and change history. So needless and horrifying.
It was also heart-warming to see how they got on. As I said before I read the book almost twenty years ago now, time for a re-read, but to see the dedication and hope Anne had for her future was tragically uplifting. I can't help but wonder what she could have been. She probably would have been one of those great people who changed the world for the better. But I suppose she still is.
It's probably best you can't take 'fotos' because you have to feel the steepness of the ladder disguised as stairs to the attic to appreciate where they lived and 'fotos' would only cheapen their legacy.
On a lighter note! That night I bought a ticket to the 4D Ice bar and felt like a complete ass! Normally I would never be enticed to par-take in something so gimmicky but there weren't many attractions open at night. Turns out it was a small 4D theatre, you guessed it, made of ice and a temp of -10. Awesome dude, right? Okay, amusing at best. Two drinks were given out. One at the start of the film and one after where people danced to "Ice Ice Baby" and these wild guys in eskimo attire snapped pictures. Needless to say I slammed my free beer and got the fuck outta there!
My hostel - The Van Gogh Hotel was great. I met some interesting bunkmates from Holland, Germany and Brazil. It's interesting comparing travel stories now that I have some!
Obviously staying at that hostel I had to visit the museum. Not being a big fan of old art or having much understanding of it's importance I wasn't super keen on this attraction - until I went inside! I adore Van Gogh. His personal story was so tragic. His art was his strength and his struggle. I am in no way comparing myself to Van Gogh, believe you-me, but I could appreciate how he wanted his work to come from an authentic place, how he wanted it to come from within and be true. But also how he tried to adapt his work upon the suggestions from others, for lack of better phrasing, to become more commercially appealing. I understood where his art came from (with help of descriptions)and appreciated his emphasis on certain pieces and proportions to better convey his intentions. (Like, the painting with the lady working in the field with dis-proportionate big hands.) I loved his fascination with the peaceful countryside , hard working people, and even his love of Japanese influence. I must seem like a complete sucker for a tragic story but it was honest. And like Anne Frank, he passed away before being recognized for his talent.
I told you I was dreading all that I had to write! Thanks for staying with me.
So although I couldn't find the cafe with the view, or the building with the hidden Catholic Church on the third floor, and I regrett buying the canal boat tour tickets, I feel like I experienced Amsterdam how I wanted. No, I did not smoke ot eat any weed to which my only regret about that is your regret.
My advice to future visitors, give yourself an extra day to get lost, use the canals as your grid, ask for directions often as I'm not entirely sure it's locals intentions to get you lost, I'm not sure it's not. And respect the people on bikes, even at first if it's hard to differentiate the difference between a sidewalk and a bike-lane at first.
And, visit the locals Market North of the Heineken experience. So much food and clothes and cheap! If I hadn't adopted this new need vs. want-need sensibility I'd be shopping!
I hope you enjoyed my trip to Amsterdam :) Below are just some quotes I took along the way...
"He loathed conventional language that did not derive from nature."
(I do) "what I am not yet able to, in order to learn how to do it." - VG
"See bleak things bleakly." - VG
"I exaggerate, I sometimes change a motif, but in the end I don't invent the whole painting. Instead I find it ready made in nature, though I still have to extract it." - VG
"I don't think anyone really knows their children." Anne Franks Father giving an interview about publishing her diary.
My second day in Amsterdam pretty much consisted of getting lost, finding a floating flower market and a delicious dinner in an Amsterdam Irish pub on the canal with a pint of Heineken. Turns out I don't much care for that beer so 'happy days' I skipped the tour.
My last two days were my favourite and although no new friends to speak of I had a brief encounter with a fellow Vancouver girl trying to find her way around. Good luck!
(And this is where I have to stop for air.)
Although the tales of the Anne Frank Huis 'que' were a bit off-putting this was my main mission in Amsterdam. I arrived early enough and the line up moved quickly. It feels that writing about such an experience won't live up to such a notable place that housed ordinary people at that time. I may fail in my efforts to convey the emotion I felt and how much it meant and pained me to stand where they once tip-toed and to read where they once whispered. To see the pictures of the Jews being lined up on the street where I stood to a horrible fate was chilling. I wanted so much in that moment to go back and change history. So needless and horrifying.
It was also heart-warming to see how they got on. As I said before I read the book almost twenty years ago now, time for a re-read, but to see the dedication and hope Anne had for her future was tragically uplifting. I can't help but wonder what she could have been. She probably would have been one of those great people who changed the world for the better. But I suppose she still is.
It's probably best you can't take 'fotos' because you have to feel the steepness of the ladder disguised as stairs to the attic to appreciate where they lived and 'fotos' would only cheapen their legacy.
On a lighter note! That night I bought a ticket to the 4D Ice bar and felt like a complete ass! Normally I would never be enticed to par-take in something so gimmicky but there weren't many attractions open at night. Turns out it was a small 4D theatre, you guessed it, made of ice and a temp of -10. Awesome dude, right? Okay, amusing at best. Two drinks were given out. One at the start of the film and one after where people danced to "Ice Ice Baby" and these wild guys in eskimo attire snapped pictures. Needless to say I slammed my free beer and got the fuck outta there!
My hostel - The Van Gogh Hotel was great. I met some interesting bunkmates from Holland, Germany and Brazil. It's interesting comparing travel stories now that I have some!
Obviously staying at that hostel I had to visit the museum. Not being a big fan of old art or having much understanding of it's importance I wasn't super keen on this attraction - until I went inside! I adore Van Gogh. His personal story was so tragic. His art was his strength and his struggle. I am in no way comparing myself to Van Gogh, believe you-me, but I could appreciate how he wanted his work to come from an authentic place, how he wanted it to come from within and be true. But also how he tried to adapt his work upon the suggestions from others, for lack of better phrasing, to become more commercially appealing. I understood where his art came from (with help of descriptions)and appreciated his emphasis on certain pieces and proportions to better convey his intentions. (Like, the painting with the lady working in the field with dis-proportionate big hands.) I loved his fascination with the peaceful countryside , hard working people, and even his love of Japanese influence. I must seem like a complete sucker for a tragic story but it was honest. And like Anne Frank, he passed away before being recognized for his talent.
I told you I was dreading all that I had to write! Thanks for staying with me.
So although I couldn't find the cafe with the view, or the building with the hidden Catholic Church on the third floor, and I regrett buying the canal boat tour tickets, I feel like I experienced Amsterdam how I wanted. No, I did not smoke ot eat any weed to which my only regret about that is your regret.
My advice to future visitors, give yourself an extra day to get lost, use the canals as your grid, ask for directions often as I'm not entirely sure it's locals intentions to get you lost, I'm not sure it's not. And respect the people on bikes, even at first if it's hard to differentiate the difference between a sidewalk and a bike-lane at first.
And, visit the locals Market North of the Heineken experience. So much food and clothes and cheap! If I hadn't adopted this new need vs. want-need sensibility I'd be shopping!
I hope you enjoyed my trip to Amsterdam :) Below are just some quotes I took along the way...
"He loathed conventional language that did not derive from nature."
(I do) "what I am not yet able to, in order to learn how to do it." - VG
"See bleak things bleakly." - VG
"I exaggerate, I sometimes change a motif, but in the end I don't invent the whole painting. Instead I find it ready made in nature, though I still have to extract it." - VG
"I don't think anyone really knows their children." Anne Franks Father giving an interview about publishing her diary.
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