It's all about comfort

Ways to pass the time


Looking into the Birkenstock window and seeing the world

The Parking Lot in Front of the Stock Exchange

This is the BeurB, the stock exchange of Amsterdam- if you click on the picture to enlarge it, you can see the ticker tape is running across the top of the middle window. At then end of the day, men in suits and women in wildly inappropriate shoes ride home from their day at the office, talking and texting on their phones. Their bikes are practical because after all, they park on the street. There's a pedestrian lane, a bike lane, a trolley lane and a car lane with traffic signals for all.


Click the pic to check out the bike rider in his suit, texting.

Observations

Keep your eye on the hook.

The man is tying a bag of cement to the pulley so that it can be hoisted up.

It's because of narrow staircases like this that people use the pulley system to move in and out of apartments, renovate and so on--no elevators




This is a shopping mall

a monument at the Dam Square where people paid their respect on Monday for Liberation Day

A Walk in Vondel Park

Just out the door and across the street is an entrance to Vondel Park and the Film Museum. Vertigo, the musuem's cafe is open until midnight. People are still riding their bikes through the park at that time. These bikes are mostly beat up English racers or Schwin-like bikes from my childhood that are rigged up to transport all of your needs. Men in suits, women in platform shoes, small children in seats mounted on the handbars, large saddle bags draped over the back wheels. People talk and text as they ride. Alas, there is no cup holder--at least that I've observed so far.



Bike riders in Vondel Park





















I've been looking for the things to do in addition to taking in the sights and have found some places to practice yoga. Right on the edge of the park (on the 5th Avenue side where all the swanky stores are) is de Roos--a New Age Center that has 10 yoga classes a day, astrologists, massage therapists and so on. I'm off this morning to sample some yoga and an organic breakfast.

Last night I went to a yoga class around the corner from Steven's. Yogatha teaches in a studio that holds six that is in her apartment. She asked the others in the class if it would be all right to teach in English. In an hour and a half, we did about eight poses. Her focus was breathing through the spine (or the chakras) The intention of my breath and not my flexibility moved me through the series, allowing me to open up.

I went to the Bible Museum today. I've always been fascinated by comparative religion--our need for a supreme being or beings that gives some credence to our existaence and our need to belong to something that sets us apart from others. The museum was created by Reverend Schouten in 1860 He was wanted to give historic weight to Bible stories. There are archaeological finds from Egypt, a model of of King Solomon's Temple and a bible collection that dates back to 1453. there are this lovely aroma rooms where you can lift the lids on jars and smell the essence fragrance and read the reference to it in the bible.
The current exhibit about religious diversity in Amsterdam is a photo-narrative profiling 10 teenagers. They shared their connection to their faith-Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhist, Hindus. Photos of celebrations, charitable work, etc for each young person stretetched out along a wall create a mural/collage/mosaic of the tapestry that is Amsterdam.

Later that day, when I was rambling around, I stumbled on the Buddhist Temple that was described at the museum. I haven't visited and churches or temples yet, but I climbed the steps and lit a candle.

Drinks at the American Hotel

Here we are solving all the world's problems over chardonnay. Dimintri is a friend of Steven's from Bulgaria who settled in Amsterdam several years ago. This beautiful art deco hotel offers an ideal ambiance for intimate discussion.
A word about service--waiters don't seem very interested the guests. Tipping isn't a customary practice. When we flagged the waiter down to order another drink, he told us that it was last call and we had to be out in a half an hour--did we think we could drink fast enough?
I asked another waitress at the Stedjhil Museum about tipping. She told me that some people tip, but not like Americans--everything is so expensive that people don't have money for tips or she added maybe what people say about the Dutch is true (she was Dutch) and that they are cheap. Ah, I didn't think about the idea of Dutch treat

Arriving in Amsterdam

Rebunging my belongings once I was off the plane was exhilarating because I knew I would breeze through customs and emerge a free woman--no waiting for luggage or worries of bags gone AWOL. I couldn't find Steven. I didn't have his cell phone number written down. I walked around a bit then sat at a coffee bar to wait. After 40 minutes I took out my computer, logged on to the airport wifi and sent him an email hoping he had a blackberry. No go. I checked his email and found a cell number for him. By the time I found a phone about an hour had passed. i called him and he was on the subway on his way back to Central. He was at the airport at Arrival Area 2. We both had looked around and had missed each other. It's a ten minute ride so he hopped on the metro and came back for me.

A subway and a 10 minute trolley ride took us to his place-- a bright 2 bedroom apartment across the street from Vondel Park-- 10 foot windows, SW exposure keeps the apt light filled. the sun doesn't set until 9PM here.

After a little regrouping, unpacking and snacking on delicious bread and Gouda, we left for a neighborhood tour.

Clutching my carry-on

I approached organizing for this trip the way I have approached developing a unit of study or a piece of writing. Each day I worked on my lists, sorting through my belongings, calling my fashion consultants, Margie, Jeanne, Thais and Leslie, playing dress up at Susan's, shopping for the necessary missing pieces.
Josh had suggested "story boarding" my outfits. I'll just say I stopped short of that. Margie buzzed my hair and I packed my wigs for a bit more versatility. I bought straps for my suitcase to cinch its bulging waist and bungie cords to secure my backpack to the suitcase. I filled a fannypack with my ipod, phone, tiny wallet and a passport holder with a note from my doctor. I layered my clothing. Really layered my clothing.

When I arrived at JFK, a young woman helped me at Aer Lingus' self check-in and suggested I check my bag because it looked too heavy. I told her I couldn't and she let me go. Thank god, I put all my liquids in plastic bags, but I didn't read the information carefully-2 quart-sized baggies-one for drugs and the other for products. Let's just say I had a few gallons of product and I had bought the bottles at Bed Bath and Beyond that you can fill up yourself. Well, the federal government wants officially labeled bottles so those were confiscated.

After a lecture and a sample of what my bags should look like in the future-the security woman gave me two bags and put some of my things in them. After inspection, she returned all but two of my items to me. She wasn't smiling when she looked at a half used tube of hand cream that had been 4 ounces and I said-"Can't be more than two ounces now." She pushed it back in the bag and said "That's not how it works." I was a nervous wreck, ready for a debate, but decided that smiling, nodding and thanking her for her understanding was the better route.

I was really anxious; I could feel a pounding in my chest. Once through security, I had to repack my bags. I sat down at the gate and felt the eyes of some people near me on my bags. Clearly I had more than most people around me--much more and now I was in bag-lady mode rearranging all my things and sweating so I was removing my fleece, my shrug, my sweater until I comfortable in two tank tops.

Sandy had given me this great backpack with wheels that I'm using as my pocketbook. It's heavy as hell and I've draped my raincoat over my shoulder with an air of casualness in order to camouflage the size of it as I drag my wheelie behind me to board the plane.

My doctor has given me a note indicating that I needed the bulkhead seat and the booking agent at Aer Lingus promised me that as of the booking date there were no babies seated the with me.
When I boarded the plane, I was pleasantly surprised to find that I had all four seats to myself. All my gear--luggage, raincoat, boots went up above.

I had to change planes in Dublin so once again I gathered up all my things and bungied them together. I dragged my belongings through passport control and round what seemed to be an endless circle until--guess what--I had to go through security again. I actually used 10 plastic bins for clothing I had to remove, plastic bags I had to take out, laptop, boots--no lectures in Dublin--just a big mess to reamass. Once again I was repacking. This time when I got on the plane the flight attendant eyed my bags and said I'd have to check one. I told her about my medication and that I would have to look through my bags. I had the first seat on the plane. I stowed my wheelie overhead and tried to stow my backpack under my seat but flight attendant said that space was for the person behind me. So while others boarded I stowed my backpack in the over head compartment and went back to my seat. Mission accomplished!