Okay. Normal face.
I took a trip, you guys. On the last week of April I flew to Holland to meet one of my childhood friends. Which explains the Lekker title. I heard it a lot on the radio and on TV commercials. My friend and I, we grew up a few houses away from each other in a street called Paris, where skinned knobby knees were badges of honor, news of fighting adults traveled quickly, and parents finding neighbor children in their homes, any time of day, was normal.
Aside from catching up, reminiscing, LOL-ing with tears in our eyes, and wondering about other characters from our childhood, we got to see a little bit of everything, such as:
Rain, sun, wind, and hail, all during an hour-long lunch of savory pannaku... GOOGLE BREAK... Pannakoeken!
Amazing buildings, and weird sinking ones. As in, sinking forward, back, in the middle, on one side...
An eye-popping Turkish market at The Hague with vegetables, meat, fish, cheese, jewelry, socks, bread, watches, and so on. I loved it! If you're a shopper, and are willing to brave hordes of Grandma-to-grandkid-sized groups, tricked-out strollers mauling your foot, and the interesting smell you will have on you after you shop, then this is the place. There are many treasures to be found...except fresh herring. I could only hold down one bite. I'm sorry. I know it's like a national delicacy of sorts but I need some acid on my raw fish, and white onions don't cut it. P.S. Nagtitinda sila ng malunggay!
A very enthusiastic after-work crowd in bars and pubs, and their outdoor tables. Even if it was cold. AND IT WAS COLD, I TELL YA!
A chip-in, chip-out train/bus card system, combined with stern drivers, that will have you obsessing about whether your ov-chipkaart is in your person at any given moment. No, sorry forgot my Orca card today excuse.
One of the best dinners ever at a tiny Italian restaurant called Giuliano's, run by an Italian father-son tandem. My friend ran into a pair of co-workers, one Dutch, one from Southern Italy, and we all decided to have dinner together. Some of Mr. Italy's recurring, wine-induced lines of the evening were SHHH, don't talk, this Paolo Conte song means a lot to me. Also: Seattle? Seattle? You stay here. Your life is changed. We capped off our delicious meal with these yummy little cakes soaked in, gosh, I don't know, something as strong as jet fuel I guess, and limoncello. Oh, and this was followed by a ride. In a car. To a casino. With a horrendous Limp Bizkit song playing in high volume. I don't know how this happened.
The best-treated cyclists. And I thought Seattle peeps were doing great, but no, the Dutch are doing a lot for their bicycle riders. They have their own lane - everywhere - and if a pedestrian dares to wander off into their path, you'll hear a yell and a honk.
Stunning works of art at the Rijksmuseum. It was heart-warming to see the line of people snake around the building.
The Red Light District. Looks like the on-trend attire is that onesie style Borat favors, but worn with a pair of glasses. Interesting how the farther away from the center you are the less, um, fit, the women in the windows get.
A gorgeous day that just happened to be Queen's Day. Everyone was in a great mood. We walked over to this area called The Fred where stores, and just about anyone could have a little spot in the sidewalk to sell goods. And by goods, I mean this loosely. I mean, there were kids selling suspicious, homemade juice in plastic cups. Some were singing, or playing instruments. For charity they would say, but it kinda looked like by charity, they meant themselves.
Finally, a collection of words/phrases for you to string together as you please: Queen's Night. Tourist. Party. Legal.
