Day 249 - New Years(h) and more in Ams(h)terdam

Look at that over there", says Iwan pointing out a reveler dressed all in orange, except for a sole, spangley, silver bow tie,¨That's typical Dutch¨

It´s a phrase Iwan has used a lot over the past few days. Again, he's right. It's amazing how such a diminutive country can claim so much that is distinctly unique. The food, the desserts, hugely popular trance DJs with egos to make a deity blush, dykes, windmills, tulips, splitting a bill, canals, wheels of cheese, that assured sense of confidence and a football team that would probably be the worlds´ best if only they could stop arguing amongst themselves.

Strangely though, Iwan had never heard of a Dutch oven. So, I explained it to him and suggested he give it a go with his wonderful girlfriend, Julia.

Rachel and I first met Iwan and Julia, in Lake Atitlan, Guatemala, many moons and a life time ago. We were like ships passing in the night, but all enjoyed each others´ company. Iwan owns a boat company in Amsterdam and Utrecht and, as most of his fleet would be out of the water during winter, he invited us to Amsterdam to be shown an oranje New Years´.

Amsterdam greeted us with the same wintry how-ya-doin' as England. It seemed the whole of Europe was locked in the same snowy embrace, though strangely the Netherlands seemed to be dealing with it somewhat better than most.

Customs was easy. Well, for me at least. Rachel, on the other hand, got a hard time from the uniformed officer for having a Dutch passport but not speaking Dutch. This was to become a recurring theme during the holiday.

"Do you speak Dutch?", says customs officer (or Dutch person who has just found out Rachel has Dutch nationality).
"No", says Rachel, knowing what's coming.
"But you have a Dutch passport?", says customs officer
"Yes", replies embarrassed-looking Rach.
"Terrible", replies unimpressed customs officer, indicating the encounter is now over.

We made our way quickly to the home of one of Rachel's old friends, Renae. Renae moved to the 'Dam seven years ago, where she met the love of her life. Her invitation to stay in her home, even whilst she headed north for New Year with her new family, was a god-send. Her spare room came equipped with a double bunk bed; and I mean a bunk bed which is a double bed. Brilliant!

We set about exploring Amsterdam, beginning with meeting Iwan not far from the central shopping district in Amsterdam, the Leidseplein. It was there my culinary education began.

"Try this", offered Mr de Ploeg that first day, handing me a length of harring (raw herring) doused in onions and pickles, "it's typical Dutch". Rachel declined, claiming (with some justification) she has been made to eat her lifetime fair share of harring already.

Foul as it may sounds, it's actually quite palatable. Kind of like a fishier, slimier version of sushi. Rachel relented and joined in, noting how much better it tasted now she was older. We both made a mental note to introduce harring to Taz and Nic they arrived a few days later (see here for Nics' classic reaction).

Amsterdam is one of those cities that is very easy to wander around. That's exactly what we did with the last two days of 2009. First with Iwan's help, then later solo. We bought things we really shouldn't have bought, ate food we really shouldn't have eaten (frites with thick mayonaisse, frikandel, croquettes and appelflop) and soaked up the ambience of one of the worlds' indisputably most beautiful cities.

Even in temperatures dipping below zero, it was impossible not to occasionally stare out the window of the latest cafe into which you have taken a hot-chocolaty refuge and think 'wow'.

So, things came to pass. Three days shopping, eating and drinking later, there we stood. Smack-bang in the middle of the dancefloor at Knalfuif, just one of the many NYE parties in Amsterdam, as the clock slowly approached midnight.

Then, as Iwan pointed out to me the many items of genuine Dutch-ness, I slowly and ominously became aware of one trait not so typically Dutch.

When it comes to parties, fancy dress in Australia tends to be more popular than Bob Hawke in an RSL. That night, it dawned on me that the same wasn't true of the Netherlands.

We had been told the theme was 'space'. We went at it with enthusiasm. We shopped for great costumes that would do us and Australia proud, in this city of 'crayshy' party-people.

However, as we stood in the middle of the packed dancefloor surrounded on all sides by fashionistas and beautiful people, we took a long hard look at ourselves. Rachel, dressed in a Virgin Galactic hostess outfit that wouldn't look out of place in a lingerie magazine. Myself dressed as Captain Kirk. You could say we felt a little out-of-place.

It's hard to look cool when you're the Star Trek geek in a nightclub. Even when you get to take the hot hostess girl home afterward.

2010. Live long and prosper.


The Amsterdam photos are here. Isn't that weird?