Let's hear it for the queen

Just got back from a quick trip to Amsterdam to celebrate Queen's Day, an annual day of revelry, commerce, and orange-wearing all over the Netherlands. On the evening before Queen's Day, DJs and bands play on stages set up all over the city until late in the night. Then the next morning, folks get up super early to buy and sell a whole bunch of junk. Anyone is allowed to set up shop, and people reserve their selling spots (with tape or chalk) days in advance. The city looks like one big festive garage sale. The selling and the partying continue throughout the day.

Shunning sleep, my friends and I were on board for the late-night Queen's Day Eve partying as well as the crack-of-dawn crap selling. Check out our fabulous stand:


We hawked stuff from 6 AM to about noon, with all items priced to move. Our stand was set up on a main route very close to my friends' apartment. J provided us with fresh-made grilled cheese sandwiches and copious amounts of coffee to get us through the early hours. Overall our stand brought in well over 100 euros, but mostly we were in it for the fun. I contributed the decorated sleep masks, which made a cool 10 euros, as well as a particularly hideous wedding present (which will remain anonymous).

After we closed up shop, it was time to walk around and soak up some atmosphere. The whole city felt pretty crowded, although I hear it was much less so than last year. The canals were full of boats which were full of people wearing orange. I'm not sure why orange and Queen's Day go together, but I'm guessing it's the queen's favorite color. Makes sense, no?



The weather was changeable, going from sunny to windy to cloudy to sprinkles for most of the day, ending with a gloriously dramatic sunset. The photos don't begin to do it justice.

I've got friends in low places

We just got back from a long weekend in the Netherlands, visiting friends in Rotterdam and Amsterdam. The trip was a fabulous mix between catching up, sightseeing, eating, drinking, and relaxing. I highly recommend convincing some of your friends to move to this country, too.

We started out in Rotterdam, a city I'd never been to before. Much of the city was destroyed in WWII, but it still had some charming older style buildings in parts. The newer buildings were pretty impressive, too. Like Amsterdam, Rotterdam was full of gorgeous architecture, new and old. And the Indonesian dinner we had was delicious.



Next it was Kinderdijk. No, I can't pronounce that. This area is a World Heritage Site, and gosh am I glad someone thought to preserve it. The thatched-roof windmills are so picturesque it hurts. We enjoyed a lovely stroll and went inside the one windmill that is open to the public.



Then it was on to the adorable town of Delft for lunch, afternoon wandering, and Belgian beer drinking. It was a market day, so the town was lively and animated. Plenty of canals, churches, and narrow houses. I'm starting to recognize some trends in Dutch urban planning.



Amsterdam was the trip's grand finale. We didn't do much in the way of tourism here this time, although we did have lunch with a fabulous view from the top-floor restaurant at the new library - something I would definitely recommend for tourists. It's as least as much fun as the Sex Museum.

More photos from our trip on my Flickr.

Amsterdam: a scar is born

I'm currently in the middle of a 32-hour layover at my home in Zurich. I just got back from 4 days in Amsterdam, and tomorrow morning I am headed to New Orleans, for my first trip to US soil in about a year and a half. Should be interesting, to say the least.

There's a lot I want to post about Amsterdam, but it will have to wait until I have more time. But in order to keep this blog from looking completely abandoned, I figured I should fit in at least one little story. And I really don't blog about self-inflicted injuries enough these days, so here you go.


If you've ever been to Amsterdam, you've probably noticed the tall skinny nature of a lot of the buildings, especially those that line the canals in the old town. Presumably this is because houses used to be taxed based on their width, so they were built very narrow but very deep (for all I know this is an old wives' tale, but does it really matter for my story?).

Anyway, as one might imagine, these tall, skinny houses often come with tall, skinny staircases. I am usually extra-careful on these tall, skinny staircases, because I know I am not the best when it comes to balance. But after many successful trips up and down this staircase at my friend Saron's house, I guess I started getting a little too cocky. On Saturday morning I basically tumbled down the entire length of the staircase, shrieking in terror the whole way down. When I reached the bottom, I was shocked to find myself in one piece, save for a whole lot of missing elbow skin (and a few forming bruises).

Now I would have felt like a complete and total idiot for this incident, if it weren't for the fact that the Dutch guy (Eric) who lives in this house did the exact same thing about a month ago. And the blood stain his elbow left on the wall was even longer than mine (you can sort of make it out in the picture, near the banister). Soon we'll have matching scars.

Moral of the story: when in Amsterdam, never walk down stairs in your socks.

In Amsterdam they sell Doritos that taste like me

Or maybe they taste like ranch dressing, like my friend Saron said. I didn't actually try them. I did experience some major super-market envy while walking through her local Albert Heijn, though. It was way bigger than my local Migros, and it offered a bunch of foods I've never seen here. And it stays open until 10 PM! Can you imagine? A world where it is possible to have a full-time job AND do your grocery shopping on a weekday. I'd forgotten places like those exist.