After I left off last night, I decided to have an early dinner, so at 5:30 p.m. I stopped at a French fries stand. I was hoping to have a traditional patat, homecut French fries served with a variety of Dutch-created dipping sauces. The fries were very good, but the only sauces I got were mayonnaise and ketchup, so not exactly exciting. I will have to try again and get the peanut butter sauce or the curry sauce.
A word on the weather I have had so far on my vacation. I really can't complain. In fact, after more than two weeks, yesterday was the first day when it rained. The rest of the time, it has been sunny, or cloudy at most. It was very cold in Helsinki and I was glad I had my leather jacket with me. When I got to Stockholm, the mercury soared to the low 20Cs, and I could walk very comfortably in my sleeveless shirts. As soon as I got to Copenhagen, the jacket came on again, and I am still wearing it here in Amsterdam. Even if it rained yesterday, I was fine with the umbrella Claire and Yael provided me with in the apartment.
I got to the apartment around 6:30 p.m., and just relaxed for a while. While I was checking out my text messages and e-mails, I got a text message from Hans in Stockholm to let me know that the second semi-finals of the Eurovision Song Contest would be on at 9:00 p.m. last night, so I immediately knew what I was going to do with my evening. It was fun watching all of the performances, especially the official Romanian entry that always makes me laugh with his falsetto tones. I still think that Denmark deserves the win, as far as I am concerned. The only annoyance was that the Eurovision broadcast was dubbed in Dutch and I couldn't understand a word.
I suppose it was because I had had that caffeine in the Coca Cola at dinner, but I didn't feel like going to bed until well after 1:00 a.m., even if I knew I had an early start for the tour of the Netherlands this morning. Fortunately, I discovered how to set the alarm on my iPhone, so I set it for 7:00 a.m. As luck would have it, I didn't need it at all and woke up on my own shortly before 7:00.
I showered, got dressed and hopped the tram at the Leidsestraat stop. I made my way to the Central station, from which I could walk to the tour agency on Damrak, from where the bus tour would be departing. Despite being told yesterday that the trip by tram would take 20 minutes at most, I was at the Central station within a matter of minutes, and had plenty of time when I got to the bus around 8:30. The bus was almost full, and we left, as scheduled, at 9:00 a.m.
Our first stop this morning was the small town of Volendam, where we would tour a traditional cheese-making factory. We made our way north of Amsterdam, and within minutes of leaving the outskirts of the city, we were in the middle of the beautiful Dutch countryside. It was so incredibly flat, and our guide informed us that much of the country is below sea-level, in some cases, as much as 7 meters below. Everywhere I looked, I saw lush green fields, a maze of canals running through them, and either sheep or cows out to pasture. I took quite a few photographs. We got to Volendam, where we were given a demonstration of the centuries-old process of making different kinds of Dutch cheese, from the milk obtained from cows, goats and even sheep. I was given the chance to taste cheese made out of sheep's milk, and it was nice and mild. We were told the Dutch like to have their cheese with dipping sauces, so we tried a variety of them. I tried the Dijon mustard, the Dijon mustard with fine herbs, the apple and cinnamon jam, the orange marmalade, all of them delicious. At the same time, I was trying to nibble as little as possible, because I had just taken my antibiotic and had to have it on an empty stomach for two hours. But I did not want to let this chance go by without sampling authentic Dutch cheese.
Around 10:30 a.m., we were led to our waiting boat, and we began our passage to the former island of Marken, which used to be an important fishing village. However, the ingenious Dutch managed to build dykes and levees to link the island to the mainland, and in so doing, they created a lake from the sea. This lake consists entirely of fresh water, so no fish can thrive in this environment. Consequently, the village has turned to tourism for its main support. Also, many residents have now opted to work in the neighbouring city of Amsterdam, so they commute to and from their picturesque little piece of heaven. The village was very quaint, and it had several pleasure boats moored along the coast. The reason for our stop here was to visit a traditional wooden clog maker. We were also given a thorough demonstration of how wooden clogs are sculpted primarily from poplar (but also from willow), because this wood is very malleable and ideal for carving, yet after 4 weeks' time, it becomes as hard and as water-proof as rock. Wooden clogs are still worn in some parts of the Netherlands, and the man who made a wooden clog before our very eyes even wore a pair as he worked.
It was at this point that I noticed the young dark-skinned man who elected to sit next to me on the bus. He definitely seemed interested in me, and usually kept fairly close to me whenever the group moved. We began a conversation, and I learned that he is here on a two-day vacation, after having been here for work. He works in the fashion industry in Dubai, so he is not used to this type of weather and shivered in the cold, damp air of this former fishing village. We continued chatting on the bus, in between the guide's continued commentary on the Dutch countryside. I learned that he was born in Mumbai, India, and has lived in seven different cities over the past 20 years. His work in the fashion industry brings him to travel to different cities in the world, on average 20 days a month.
We arrived in the little village of Zaanse Schans around 12:30, and at this point, I was ravenous, because I had had nothing to eat yet. But my priority was to visit the windmills first, and time permitting during our 50-minute stop, I would have a bite to eat. There were at least seven windmills dotting the landscape, and I took A LOT of pictures. I was even given the opportunity to pay my 3 euros for entrance into a windmill, and climb the steep, precarious steps of the three separate staircases leading to the top of the structure. I could climb out of that space and take photographs of the landscape and of the occasional blade that rotated before our eyes. Having seen what I had come to see, I sought out some food. Unfortunately, there was very little available in the village in terms of restaurants, so I went to a small cafeteria tucked in a corner of the gift shop and got myself a sausage roll, a hotdog and a bottle of Coca Cola. It was definitely time for me to eat. The young man, whose name I had not yet learned, had his toasted cheese sandwich at my table, explaining that he too had skipped breakfast. He told me that he is a vegetarian. After having eaten, he and I rejoined our group (which included three obnoxious French women), and boarded our bus for the return to Amsterdam. All the time I spoke to this young man in his late thirties, I was left wondering whether he was really attracted to me, or if it was all my imagination, because I practically have no gaydar to speak of. Anyway, at 2:00 p.m. we arrived back in Amsterdam, where he was bound for another 5-hour bus tour of other Dutch sights/sites. So, he finally introduced himself as, I believe, Pooni, told me it was a pleasure to meet me, shaking my hand firmly and looking directly into my eyes. And thus we parted.
Anyway, at that point I took another tram back to my lodgings to deposit my purchases, and to relax in bed a bit. I am getting by on very little sleep (after all, I am on vacation), but it is really exhausting. I checked my Facebook, text messages and e-mails, then played a few video games on my iPhone. I finally decided at 4:00 p.m. that it was time for me to head out in search of an Internet cafe to update my blog. I took the tram back to the Central station and -- surprisingly for me -- managed to find the same Internet cafe I was in yesterday. So, that pretty much sums up where I am now. Tonight, I intend to go to the ice bar for a drink, and I keep telling myself that a single drink should not interfere with my antibiotics. But before then, I will have dinner.
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