Sunday, July 29, 2018

Bikes and Wooden Shoes

Good morning to everyone, today I'm chilling (literally because the temperature went down last night) after a day in Holland, which I'm gonna tell you about today.

So, in my area of Germany, the closest foreign country is easily the Netherlands.  It's a two hour bus ride to Groningen, a two hour train ride to Amsterdam or the Hague, two and a half to Rotterdam.  It's pretty close.  So, our school offered a day trip to Groningen, which I put my name down on when I signed up for Hamburg.  Before I tell you about that, mind if I talk a little bit about the Netherlands first?  You don't mind?  Awesome.  I have a couple of things that I need to get out of the way.

The Netherlands, also known as Holland, is a small country on the north-west horn of Europe.  It's an honorary Scandinavian country, meaning that the culture is very similar (particularly to Denmark) it's politics are similar (it has a similar structure and a royal family that most often associates with the three Scandinavian monarchies) and a language that is pretty close to the Nordic ones.  So, you might ask, why would someone so obsessed with Scandinavia not clamber all over Holland and go to Amsterdam rather than Berlin? 

Well, that's a tricky question.  I like Holland, but it's not at the top of my list of places to go and I don't really know why.  Partially, I think, it's because so many college students want to go to Amsterdam for all the wrong reasons.  See, Amsterdam (and the rest of Holland for that matter) is becoming very trendy right now as a result of the country's legalization of marijuana.

I put this in here for anyone that's looking to travel to the Netherlands as a bit of a warning.  Coffee shops.  Don't go inside one if you have an aversion to pot, because that is where you buy it.  It's not legal to advertise the sale of marijuana in Holland, sort of like how the US can't advertise cigarettes.  But everyone knows you can find it in coffee shops, which is why there are so many in Holland.  And that is a tragedy, since the coffee is excellent there.

Anyway, with the pot scene discussion out of the way, lets get on with it.

My roommate is spending the weekend in Berlin alone (hope she makes it back ok, she's not the sort of person that seems to be able to handle a trip like that... but maybe she'll surprise me) so she woke me up at 3:00 in the morning so she could scuttle out to catch her bus.  Hooray.  I got up three hours later, and slogged my way to the school to catch my bus.  A couple of my buddies were heading to Groningen with me, two for the pot and the rest for the sight-seeing.  Woo college students that attend a beach school.  Reinforcing that stereotype, guys.  Whatever.

Two hours later, we cross the Dutch border.  I saw the border crossing this time, unlike my trip to Portugal years ago.  It wasn't very exciting.  Literally, the sign said "Welcome to Netherlands" (in German) and all the signs that came after were suddenly spelled wrong.  Like, De Poort van Groninger.  Pooooooort.  I imagine someone pronouncing it phonetically from an English perspective, and it's hilarious.

We got to the poort city half an hour after a rest stop, where we got off the bus, nearly died to some cyclists, and met up with our tour guide.  Now I should mention the bikes.  Oooooooooh the bikes.  It's a miracle we all made it back alive, because those things are out for blood.  You know how in the US, cars are at the top of the food chain, followed by pedestrians with cyclists being guaranteed to get hit at some point in their soon-to-be-short lives?  Here, it's rather reversed.  The bikers are in charge.  They rule the roads.  They will stop for no man, car, or train, because they travel in packs and their numbers are great.  Fear the bikes, for they show no mercy.

Although on bicycles, the Dutch are vicious, as soon as they step on the ground they become the most jolly people I've ever met.  It's weird to be surrounded by such unwavering joy and friendliness.  We were with the tour guide, learning about the insane bikers and random people would walk by and say "hello!" with a smile on their face before wandering off.  Our tour guide was just as jolly.  "Oh yes, look at this building isn't it lovely?  We could go in there, oh wait!  We should!  Let's go, guys, because it's so wonderful!  Let us stop in front of this private business and stare at this wonderful wall for a while!  Oh hello, sir!  Do you mind if we stop in front of your shop?  You don't?  Excellent!  Thank you so very much!  Let us continue!  The weather is so wonderful today!"

I blame the country itself for this happy disposition that the Dutch seem to universally share.  While the landscape is flat as can be, they decided to make the most of it by planting flowers literally everywhere.  Even in a side of town that could be described is poor or dirty, every available patch of dirt had flowers.  If there is no way to plant colorful flowers in the ground, they have pots.  Every balcony we passed had flowers all over it, with happy people enjoying the weather in their comfy chairs.  And, if there aren't flowers, there are rainbows.

One bridge was painted permanently in rainbow stripes, and we walked over it as though it meant very little. "Oh, let's stop here on this lovely bridge!  If you're thirsty, there's a water fountain over there.  Oh, go fill up your bottles!  It's free!  If you can't figure it out, that nice man seems willing to show you how to use it!"  "Yes, it's a little complicated.  This button that doesn't seem like a button is actually a button!"

Later on, we were walking down this street, while talking about the architecture, the fact that the mascot of Groningen is a horse's butt, which no one seems to find the least bit unusual, when one person in the group asked about these rainbow streamers that we saw hanging over the street.

"Oh these?  I think they're for gay pride."
"Wasn't gay pride like, four weeks ago in the Netherlands?"
"Was it?  Hmm.  No matter.  Look at this clock tower!"

They paint their buildings in rainbow colors too.  The museum of Groningen is so colorful, it might well be called gay!  Not for the gay pride, for just how happy it is!  It was yellow, green, pink... so many colors.  So many flowers.  So many happy tall people and scary bikes on rainbow bike lanes.

Did I enter the twilight zone?

After the tour ended, we were let off our leashes for the next four hours.  We spent much of this time either looking at flowers or waiting for food.  Service ain't fast when your life doesn't depend on tips.  But the coffee, which came to me an hour after I ordered it, was some of the best I'd ever had, and it came with complimentary.... brownies.... um...  They probably didn't have pot in them....  gee, now that I think about it, that is a really weird coincidence. :\

It sadly started raining a bit about 1:30, which meant we couldn't really go oot and aboot as mooch as we would have liked, but we did go about sampling the various tasty things, gawked at the wooden shoes (one of my buddies purchased a pair of tiny thimble sized wooden clogs, which he deemed "the best purchase of my life"), and listened to the church bells of a church that isn't really used as a church much anymore because Netherlands play pretty music. 

We also visited the garden of Orange, which had every color flower except orange in it.  Oh, the House of Orange is the Dutch royal family, and this garden was William of Orange's summer home's garden.  It's now a very fancy hotel that the Dutch royal family stays in when they visit, and it has a space for afternoon tea.  Would have enjoyed some time in the tea-garden, except it rained during tea time.  Tragedy.

Well, other than that, we really didn't have time to do much and Groningen is a kinda small city.  "most of it was destroyed in world war one by the Germans, who we are now very very good friends with, or by the Canadians when they tried to free us from the Germans!  But they rebuilt a lot of it with new shiny architecture except that one building over there which is huge and extremely ugly and everyone hates it.  Moving on!  Look at this cafe!  It's called the golden building and it's the only one in the square that survived!"

 Then we went to the train station, our meeting point, where even the panhandlers were nice and friendly, before hopping on the bus to head back to Germany.  That was my day!

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