Monthly Archives: September 2007

Canals. Naked ladies. Drugs. No Dutch people. Must be Amsterdam…

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So finally I make it to the last non-British city of my trek. Amsterdam – home of tulips, windmills, the famous red light district, stoned teenagers from everywhere except Holland, more bicycles than I thought existed in the entire world… and Esther, my lovely host for a couple of nights.

The last time I saw Esther was in Darwin, back in April. Then, we shared a dorm room for the second time during my stay in Oz. She had to put up with my snoring for several nights, in return for which I had to put up with her giving me free food while she worked in the Vic. Hardly a fair swap, but one that worked very well for me.

Now she’s settled just outside of Amsterdam, and we’re sharing her room in a flat. So she’s putting up with my snoring and and giving me free food every night. I think I’m onto a good deal here.

There’s a fair bit to do here and we managed to drag ourselves into the city twice. Esther is almost a tourist in the city as well, as she’s spent most of her time in the area at her new job so it’s an excuse for her to see the place. There really are some nice canals, the boats are cute and the buildings are narrow and tip forwards. This is something to do with the land value or tax being calculated by the width or footprint of the property many moons ago. As a result – narrow and tall. This makes it hard to get large items up the stairs, so they were lifted on a hoist which pokes out of the front of the roof and popped in through the windows. As a result – buildings that lean forwards so that the things on the hoist don’t bash off the walls.

Bikes are everywhere. Cyclists here are mad and don’t obey the traffic signs, but that’s no different from most of the rest of Europe. It’s just they outnumber cars (and sometimes pedestrians) so it’s a bit frantic on occasion. There is a three-storey bike park by the central station. Impressive when it’s full.

On Saturday, we were really touristy and did two attractions. The first was the fourth in my collection of sex museums. This was one of the best and certainly the cheapest at only three Euros entry. This is at odds with the web site [warning – adult content in link… DUH] which claims only 2.50, but I’ll let that slide as it’s so cheap anyway.

While we were in there, we picked up a leaflet for the Amsterdam Dungeon which offered two-for-one tickets. A good thing, as it turns out it’s just under 19 Euros per person. Ouch.

It was somewhat different to the ones in the UK, as you’re led around as a group and have various set scenes to watch. Back home, it’s more a series of static exhibits with some interesting information. It was cool, and a bit of a giggle. Esther got picked out for various “volunteer” parts twice. She is now officially a witch! My only complaint is that as the lighting is so low, it’s hard to read the signs on some of the displays. They also rush you through a little too quickly to read them all. Other than that, a good laugh if an expensive one for 75 minutes.

Straight after, we munched some little Dutch miniature pancakes which I’m not allowed to call little Dutch miniature pancakes. They’re actually poffertjes (thank you to Esther for spelling that for me). Thus fortified, we wandered around two bookshops and then into the infamous red light district where many… a few… OK, about three women were sat in windows making “come hither (and bring your wallet)” gestures to the passing male crowd. Our fault for getting there during daylight.

While wandering, we discovered the Newcastle Bar. Only it’s not. According to the owner who we got talking to, it’s actually the “New Castle Bar” and originally had no connection whatsoever to the Toon. This didn’t last with half the Geordie population visiting on stag do’s, hen nights and so on and they took it for their own. Pictures of the team, shirts, scarves and other decor are pinned all over the place – every single one donated by visiting Novocastrians.

We’d missed the 3-1 defeat to Man City in the afternoon, so drank beer (miniature bottles of Brown Ale) and watched ManUre just edge it past Birmingham City. After the final whistle, we squished through the rain and made our way back to Esther’s for some unhealthy munchies and an early night.

Sunday was a little quieter as we just wandered the streets randomly for an hour or two before meeting a friend of Esther’s for a drink. Or three. As we walked, Esther insisted I stop and try some Dutch fast food from a shop called FEBO. I sampled a kroket (deep fried something in a bun), a sausage smothered in sauce and some pretty acceptable chips. Then we went to McD’s for an ice cream that was so cheap they may as well have given it away. On the square where we sat, a famous (in the Netherlands) singer put on a show to help sponsor the Dutch girls’ trampolining squad as they head for the World Championships in Canada. Their display was very impressive – good luck to them!

Chilled and with my kidneys floating in a little sea of Hoegaarden, we once more headed back to Esther’s flat. Dinner tonight was fluffy pancakes which turned to cement in the stomach (very filling!). Another early night as Esther has one of those job things.

My last full day was Monday. I sat around for a lot of it updating this thing and tidying Esther’s computer. In the afternoon I met Ria – another internet person – for a couple of Cokes, and that was my trip out for the day! Amsterdam is lovely, but the weather’s nasty right now and everything in the city is so expensive if you’re doing more than walking around.

This evening, a friend of Esther’s (Monique) has arrived to have dinner with us. Earlier I managed to get more information about Kratom here than another place, I never knew how beneficial it can be for certain pains.The dude teaching me was so happy to see me that he managed to get me 20% off my ferry ticket back to the UK by begging a bit to a woman in the DFDS ticket office. I set off at 6pm tomorrow for Blighty and should be on English soil by 9am Wednesday!

1000 MILES!!!

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See that pedometer? That reads “3.01”. Added to the other 997 miles I’ve done since I left Monte Carlo, that makes… 1000. A thousand. Miles. 1600km, give or take. And I hit the magic number just outside of Utrecht this afternoon. One the shorted scheduled day of walking on the entire trip!

The walk today was clocked at 7 miles, but ended up being nearer 5 as my accommodation last night was two miles north of the station, which marked the original starting point. So it was barely an hour after I set off that the magic mile mark came around.

After that, into Utrecht. A quick walk around impressed. Bustling, nice streets – a mix of narrow and wide – some lovely buildings and great buzz around the canal areas. I met my host, Andrea, at the train station and we walked back to her flat where I met a mad cat, a cute bunny rabbit and two flatmates.

Right now, I’m sat here digesting dinner and realising I only have three actual walking days left (plus some crash time in Amsterdam).

I’m coming home!

(See the magic moment in all it’s YouTubey goodness here)

33 countries… Goodbye Germany, Hello Holland!

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Yes, I know Holland is only part of the Netherlands, but I couldn’t think of a better alliteration. After a night camping somewhere near Zevenaar (which I found out two days later I’d been mispronouncing for the last three months), I made it to Arnhem to meet my host for a couple of nights. As ever, I aimed for the train station as they are always moderately central and well signposted.

There I met up with Tamara. Her first task as Official Representative Of The Netherlands was to march me to the nearest KFC should there be one in the vicinity. There was. Oh, joy. One large Mexican Wrap meal later and my KFC target had been hit – one (at least) in each country that I have visited. I can also report that the serving of fries/chips you get in Holland is bigger than anywhere else and that they also sell whole corn cobs as well as the pathetic cobbettes we are stuck with the in the UK.

My original plan had been to spend a night or two in Arnhem with Tamara and then head down to Nijmegen to stay with Dagmar. Thing is, I’d have to walk all the way back to Arnhem to continue the walk. Instead, I turned Nijmegen into a day trip.

So I had a day to explore Arnhem, see the bridge that was built to replace the one that kind of got sunk in 1944, examine the monuments, have a look at the big church and wander the shops. Then I had another day to go round Nijmegen, look at the cathedral, examine the buildings in the great market, look at the church that’s being remodelled, walk through a park and… wander the shops.

Arnhem doesn’t have a lot for the tourist (that I could find), though it’s a very pelasant place. The plaque on the bridge has to be visited as does the memorial to the soldiers who died trying to stop the Germans using it. If you’ve seen the film A Bridge Too Far this is that bridge. The new one was renamed the John Frost Bridge in honour of the leader of the Allied forces who reached the bridge during Operation Market Garden and – amazingly – held it for four days despite the odds and numbers being hugely against them.

On the way along the riverbank between Tamara’s and the bridge is an area where graffiti artists have been given free reign. You can even smell the fresh paint. There’s some amazing work there. Unusual, but worth a look if you’re in the area.

There is also an Allied cemetary outside of the city, but sadly I didn’t have time to visit. Next time, for sure.

In Nijmegen, I walked around the city and located the older area. There’s a magnificent cathedral – St Stephens – which is surrounded by other old shops and the like. Very picturesque. I couldn’t get into the cathedral but I’ve been told it’s rubbish inside anyway as it was remodelled not too long ago. A shame.

Outside, I had a little time to kill. As luck would have it, just around the corner is the Blue Hand – the oldest pub in Nijmegen. Well, it’s touristy so I had to do it. They sell some beers that are only available in that one bar and are brewed locally. Half an hour and one very nice beer later, I walked back to the train station to meet Dagmar.

We did a quick shop them headed for her house where her girlfriend, Arianne, whipped up a lovely dinner for us. After this, we headed back out into Nijmegen where we picked a random bar and found a pub quiz going on. The questions were the usual inane ones that I love, and it’s a shame we weren’t there earlier so we could actually compete as we didn’t seem to do too badly.

What’s scary is that the more I drank, the more Dutch started to sound like English. To the point where I was answering the questions before Dagmar had translated for me. And I was one of only two people in the pub who knew in which Bond film his Lotus had turned into a submarine. I guess being English helps for questions like that. I sure as hell couldn’t get the ones on Dutch history.

After three very satisfying bevvies (including one that was like drinking Christmas pudding) for which Dagmar insisted on paying, I was walked back to the train station to catch one of the frequent services back to Arnhem.

The next morning was an early start and a looong walk to Zeist, just outside of Utrecht. I said my goodbyes to Tamara as she left for work and got packed up. We hadn’t spent much time together while I was there, but I would like to say she was a great host and what time we did get to chat was really good!

The Netherlands are great for walking as just about everywhere has a cycle path. These are all signposted in red and cover routes both within and between cities. If I get hit by a bike, it’ll be annoying and a lot less worrying than being clobbered by a speeding car.

Despite the weather, which alternated between overcast, rainy, drizzly, pelting it down and monsoon, I made it to Zeist in a better time than I expected – about an hour before Margreeth got in from work. One of her flatmates, Frederic, showed me in and I collapsed on one of the sofas in the kitchen.

Again, Dutch hospitality came to the fore and despite being exhausted after her third day on her new job, Margreeth took me to the supermarket and bought food, beer and chocolate. Yay!

All three of us sat around and chatted over dinner before Margreeth called it a night. It was fairly early by my recent standards, but I needed it and as I was sharing a room with my host (it’s a student hall type of place) I turned in before midnight.

OK, I spent 45 minutes while she was snoozing to watch the last episode of season one of Heroes… Woah. I have got to get hold of the season two episodes!

Footie madness

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A bit of a plod as I leave the Deutsch Republic until I reach the flat open plains (if stereotypes are to believed) of the Netherlands. Already I’ve seen a lot of people using bikes. I know this number will increase exponentially the moment I cross the border.

Again I will start with the thank you’s as I do regard them as the most important things. Birte and Jörn in Essen; Antjé, Jana and Niko in Gladbeck – thank you all. The latter group probably a little more simply as they didn’t have the first idea who I was when I arrived. Manfred, my host in Röetgen a short while ago, had called them to say a friend was coming up and in need of a bed. They had no idea about the Walk or where I’d even met him. They thought we’d met in England as he worked there for some time about two years ago! So basically, they didn’t know me from Whatsisname – the guy from chapter one of the the Bible. The guy with the apple fetish who could speak Parseltongue.

Also an additional thank you to my Essen hosts for the books before I left. I now have space in my rucksack as I’ve been dumping novels when I finish them and to finally get hold of some more English texts is a real help. Perhaps it’s rather apt that one of them is Tony Hawks’ Round Ireland With A Fridge – about a guy who takes off on a silly journey for no real reason and wonders how he got himself into it… yet meets wonderful people and does amazing things on the way.

Right, well. My aim was Gelsenkirchen which is twinned with Newcastle. Annoyingly, I didn’t walk past any signs declaring this as I really wanted my photograph with one. As I entered Gladbeck later on I saw copious signs advertising their affiliation with Enfield but this wasn’t really the same.

I did, however, get to do the stadium tour in Gelsenkirchen. The local team are hugely well supported and doing quite well this season. FC Shalke04 have a great history, pretty much dominating the sport in Germany around the 40s and 50s. More recently, they’ve been marginal underdogs yet their fan base is unwavering. All matches sell out, flags and so forth are on display all over the region and pubs fill with those unable to get tickets each match day. A bit like Newcastle under Keegan, really. It’s a wonderful feeling and walking through the area, especially on a match day, does bring those memories and emotions back.

My aims here were to see the stadium on a tour and also to see the game on the Saturday, preferably at the stadium. Unfortunately, I couldn’t do the second one. Well, I could, but it would have cost me around £50 for the cheapest ticket I could get my hands on.

I settled for the £5 (€8.00) stadium tour instead. Birte helped me book it as the staff there don’t speak the best English in the world and prefer non-German speakers to book by email. Details of the tour are on Schalke’s web site. If you can get a German speaker to help you then that’s best – there is a lot more German content on the site than English.

It’s a magnificent ground and one of only two in Europe that store the pitch outside the stadium on non-matchdays. I watched a fair bit of the shifting process when I was there and it takes four hours each way to move the turf in and out on a huge platform. Friday evenings in, Sunday mornings out. This allows more light and rain to reach the entire area and frees the inside of the stadium up for concerts and the like during the week. I’m sure the investment in technology to move the grass will pay for itself very quickly with the added revenue – and they don’t have to replace all the grass all the time like so many stadia in the UK.

I mention that first as I walked past the “externalised” pitch on my way to the museum where my tour was to begin. The staff there were lovely and even kept my rucksack behind the counter while I was guided around. As the tour is in German only – they don’t do other languages unless you book a private tour which is really expensive – I approached what looked like the youngest (and I confess prettiest) member of the group and asked if she spoke English. I, of course, got the usual “a little” response followed by an almost work-perfect translation of the entire tourguide repertoire and a long conversation afterwards. I wonder how much English someone who speaks “a lot” knows?

Regardless, thank you Kathleen – you were a wonderful translator. Best of luck with the studies!

We were taken round the area where the pitch was being “inserted” into the stadium, one of the pump rooms where beer is stored and delivered to the multitude of kiosks, the terraces, the restaurant, the area where people are interviewed immediately after the match, the chapel, the media room, the really posh and expensive seats and pitchside. The only thing I was expecting and didn’t get to see were the changing rooms. You always have those images of tours where they take you in and all the shirts are hanging up, but it wasn’t to be. I think the fans on the trip were a little more disappointed than me!

The figures are amazing. The amount of beer sold each game is typical of what you’d expect of the Germans, but when they clean the beer line they flush out thousands of litres of the stuff and dispose of it! They should just keep it for the next match featuring an English team. We’d drink it regardless.

During matchdays, the really posh seats have a lunch included and it’s always something from the region or country of the opposing team. A nice touch. Mind, for these seats you could be paying 21,000 Euros a season… The boxes run to hundreds of thousands depending on where they are, but can be used for any event at the stadium, not just the footie.

Another thing is that for league games, terracing is allowed. This has been outlawed in the UK for many years now due to the usual nanny state regulations. The same ones that, in very recent years, have had clubs turf fans out of grounds if they don’t sit in the seats they’re allotted and instead choose to stand to voice their support. Lunacy. This terracing is only for league, though. If the ground is used for European or international matches then seats are bolted in place. This makes the capacity float from just over 60,000 to just under 40,000 if my memory serves. A huge difference in income for the club. Having said that, a terrace ticket for a home game is a measly 11 Euros.

For some more bumpth, here’s a link to the stadium’s own portrait page. I’m particularly impressed with them hosting a concert, a football match and a US football match within 96 hours!

The tour round was fascinating and worth the price, especially as it included entry to the museum (itself usually 4 Euros). I wandered around there for some time with Kathleen translating the labels before we both had to set off. Her for a friend’s house and me to my hosts.

I was a little late getting to Gladbeck, but Antjé and the family didn’t mind and I sat and talked with Antjé and Jana for some time. Jana’s hoping to study English at university (good luck – even I would struggle with that!) and filled in the gaps in her mother’s otherwise excellent English. Antjé’s a quick learner. Little phrases and so on that I mentioned one day would be used by her the next!

My bed was a comfy mattress laid down in the loft and was more than adequate. Much better than trying to pitch a tent anywhere in this area anyway – it’s all concrete and houses! Dinner, also was great. And Jana is an excellent baker – I ate far too much of the dessert!

Niko arrived home after we’d had dinner and turned out to be a complete football nut. He plays for a local team and supports Arsenal and Dortmund (I think – my memory is hazy on the German team). I don’t think we talked about anything other than football for my entire stay. Nice collection of pets as well – the geckos are lovely but I’m still not all that keen on tarantulas.

On matchday, Antjé dropped me off at a bar. We shared a quick drink before she had to go (Germans drink a mixture of beer and Coke – weird…) and I sat surrounded by fans in blue and white who went wild as Schalke thumped Arminia Bielefeld 3-0. My schnitzel with pepper steak at half time was absolutely delicious as well.

In the evening, Niko and his girlfriend invited me out clubbing – some of their friends wanted to meet me which was flattering – but I had to make a start in the morning, though I was really tempted. It turned out to be a good decision as he didn’t get back until 4am!