What not to do with a handful of snow

What is not fun: Waking up at 6am

What is fun: Waking up at 6 am to find everything outside covered in a thick layer of snow. Yes the snow has arrived in Utrecht. It looks like someone got a giant sifter and covered the place in icing sugar. A for a country that is already painfully quaint it makes for many happy snaps.

I have not experienced much snow in my life. That hard, slurpee, artificial stuff they make at Buller doesn’t count. In the last week I have been snowed on, had many a snow fight, made a snow angel, attempted to make a snow man but gave up early on when I realized it takes a considerable amount of time and watched a blizzard (ok so it might not have been a blizzard per se but it what a lot of snow and it was coming down fast). There is something about the snow that brings out the inner child in everyone.

But! There a few things I have learnt about snow the hard way:

Snow make look white fluffy and pretty, so naturally, one is tempted to dive face first into it. When you go the dive you quickly realise that snow is in fact wet, cold, and sticks to your clothes.

When you, and many other people before and after you, walk on the same snowy path the snow gets compacted, then as it gets colder this wonderful compacted stuff re-freezes and turns into a mini ice skating rink. This I learnt when I ass planted on the footpath-legs straight out from underneath me.

Walking through the snow in inappropriate shoes= wet and cold feet. What are snow appropriate shoes? They don’t exist. Well, ok, snow boots maybe….

Snow and alcohol do not mix.

Grabbing a giant pile of snow, and then plunging your face into it, is not a good idea. (see photo proof above)

Snow in your ear is very uncomfortable.

When it snows the entire Dutch rail network packs it in. For example rocking up to catch my train to Germany only to be informed that there are no international trains running. Surely the rail network got the hint a long time ago that European winters get pretty cold, especially the further north you get, and it snows every winter in Holland; therefore will have to run trains in the snow at least once a year. Apparently not.

I haven’t even tried riding my bike in the snow-I’ve watched some Dutchies battle it out against the snow on their bikes and they struggle. So I’ve come to the conclusion there would be no hope for me. Although watching people have a tough time on their chose mode of transportation (I prefer watching cars and bikes) makes for fun time viewing.

I really do love kicking around in the snow, which is probably a good thing seeing as I am currently in Austria in the snow clad mountain town Zell am See. I am going to attempt to snowboard-“operation snow dud”. If my attempts at surfing are anything to go by i don’t think i’ll be dominating any slopes anytime soon.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Why do people say that talking about the weather is only for conversations when you have nothing better to talk about? Or if you’re English?

I LOVE talking about the weather. It is definitely a legitimate topic of conversation. i mean hello! meteorology study of weather. If you have an -ology attached then it’s more than just small talk.

This weekend we pushed our clock back, yes for the one hour extra sleep boo to the sun setting an hour earlier. It is well and truly autumn. I oscillate between love and hate for autumn.

Hate: wind, rain, and having cold feet even though i’m wearing shoes. (note- this list forms part of a longer hate list for winter).

Love: crisp sunny autumn days, the fact that a majority of trees here aren’t ever greens so it’s like an explosion of yellow and red everywhere, and i love the canals being littered by autumn leaves.

See proof: canal next to where i have class on wednesdays. so pretty.

Verdict: talking about weather is more fun than talking about how fast you did your sudoku this morning.

“Must be a devil bettween us or whores in my head”

Gig gloat episode 1:

As far as music scenes go Melbourne has got it going on, I can’t complain. Well I kind of still do, gigs aren’t cheap and I just love to complain generally. But when V festival came to Australia in 2007 (for the first time I think) I got excited-pee in your pants type excited. Pixies were headlining and all my dreams had come true.  Not so. V fest was on in Sydney and ….Brisbane? No Melbourne. Yep that’s right Brisbane over Melbourne. Brisbane’s music scene includes the likes of Powderfinger and the clubs that play MOS annual on loop. I was angry. Fast forward 2 years and i was still harbouring a bit  of resentment.

Then I move to Holland. And then I saw the Pixies. And live music will never sound the same again. I can see you roll your eyes in disbelief. To quote my friend Amelia* who has also seen the Pixies live and who I consider to be a) very good at life generally and b) a ruthless music critic who doesn’t indulge in hyperbole,  “Wow, I don’t think I will see anything that good again. Life feels both better and worse.”

##Audience warning: I’m about to wax lyrical in detail , if you don’t like the Pixies or think hearing about gigs is like second hand smoke then save yourself now and wait for my next post.##

The gig was at Brixton academy in London. It is like a mix between the Forum for lay out and the Palais for size. Thanks to my years of internet shopping addiction and cunning ebay skillz I managed to score a really good ticket down in the stalls. I was surrounded by guys in their late 20s or 30s wearing the same get up they wore as teenagers yet this time round they had bald patches and beer bellies. It was as if for night all these people reverted back to their awkward alt rock loving teen selves. Made for a great vibe.

The tour was a Doolittle tour which is I think arguable their best album (ok maybe along with Surfa Rosa). I may or may not have gotten teary when they played “hey” and “monkey gone to heaven” which are two of my favourite songs. They played a fair few B-sides, which the ever so cool Kim told us had only ever played in public a handful of times before. B-sides came early in the set and then when the opening riff started up for Wave of Mutilation the crowd lost their shit. Kim played MC and got the right balance of a bit of chat but not so much that you think “shut up and play some music” (Daniel Johns BDO 2008 anyone? What a dick)

Yes they may be old, and Black Francis is a bit of a fatty, (Kim btw still looks pretty rock and roll), but holy shit they know how to put on a show. The drum lines were so so tight, the bass was so sexy, lazy but always perfectly timed, lead guitar was beyond perfect, Black, man, he sounded, whoa, am-az-ing. They had this all encompassing sound but were never too loud. There is nothing better being at a gig where everyone around you knows the words to every song and loose the shit at the very beginning and don’t go to find it until they’re in line for the cloak room.

They opened the encore with a half tempo wave of mutilation just Black Francis on vocals and the drum line. Sick. Hey when you are the Pixies you can play a song twice. Or three times which is what they did.  Two encores later and true to the track list they ended on gouge away.  I would have really liked to have heard “Where is my mind?” but then it wouldn’t be a Doolittle tour and more of a best of tour. They just don’t make bands like the Pixies on this side of the 90s. I had a similar thought when I was sitting in the Belgian sun watch Dinosaur Jr-such veterans, such a great sound. (ok now I am just gloating).

Tonight I’m going to see Massive Attack.  Watch out for the next episode of gig gloat.

Peace out

*Coincidentally Amelia has a blog you should definitely check out, it is the Mozart of blogs-you read it and your IQ increases for 15 minutes:

http://www.furtherado.net/

Patience is a virtue because it makes us better people? I tend to disagree.

Now I’m not sure if many of you have noticed I am not the world’s most patient person. I have such little tolerance for spaced out high school drop outs who don’t know how to perform their simple admin job properly. (hey you all judge me but I bet at some point they’ve annoyed you too).

Little did I know that moving to The Netherlands was a good move for someone as impatient as I. Yesterday I had to go to the Doctor to get a prescription re done. My appointment was for 1.40pm. I have a great doctor back in Australia but invariably I get in to see her at least an hour or two after my appointment time. I expect to wait at a doctor’s surgery-anything under 40 minutes is a bit of a win. At 1.35 I am sitting in the waiting room flicking through magazines, part of the waiting room ritual, except that these magazines were in Dutch so I was just looking at the pretty pictures. The receptionist walk over looking a little concerned “

Receptionist: “Mevrouw Diego?”

Me: “Yes”

Receptionist: “I’m afraid that Dr Kalmijn has had to make an emergency house visit and is running late”

(At this point I’m thinking great I’ll be waiting an hour at least)

Me: “Do you know how late she is running?”

Receptionist: “well I think that she should be back in about 5 minutes and there is still another person to see her before you, so probably 15 minutes”

At this point the woman misread my look of shock for anger when really I was surprised how much of a non- issue 15 minutes was.

I saw the Doctor at 1.50. 10 minute wait. AMAZING. It gets better.

Doctor is very friendly and seeing as it was the first time I thought she was going to want a Giselle Diego medical History 101 class when really all I wanted was my prescription filled. Not so amigos. She asked me what I was here for, I showed her an old prescription, she wrote one up-and here’s the best bit- she sends it VIA EMAIL to the pharmacy inside the same building. Next time I need a freshie I just have to go to the Chemist as they now have it on record. If there’s ever any problems all I have to do is call the prescription hotline (yep you heard right) and the admin will organise for my prescription to be resent to the chemist. WTF? Incredible efficiency.

Doctor: “Is there anything else?” I thought she was trying to get me to fess up about my cold so she can try and give me some unnecessary antibiotics. Neine dudes.

Consultation time: 6 minutes. WIN.

Could it get better? Yes it can.

I walk over to the Chemist, take a little number, wait til my number is called and then sit at the little pharmacist booth and they hand me my drugs, I pay, and voila I am on my way.

How civilized.

I love this country.

Later in the day I am in town standing in the street and a blind guy with his guide dog approach. The dog stops to do a poo. Guide dogs need loo breaks too. THEN! The guy (blind like I said) pulls out a plastic bag from his jacket and gets the dog to show him where the poo is and then scoops it up! What a champ!

Honestly. These Dutch. Ridiculously polite.  Love rules. Surely being blind means you can get away with not having to clean that shit up.

It’s the little things about Holland that get me excited.

Peace out.

Now if i have learnt anything in the last 4 years at uni it’s how to write an essay the night before it’s due. Everytime i say it’s going to be different, i’ll start early, maybe even write a draft. pfft who am i kidding? Well yesterday i was given a deadline tailor made to suit me. I’m trying to get into this legal clinic program run through Utrecht University (for those of you playing at home i’m studying here at the moment). Second round of the selection process was hella hectic. I got a 3 page factual scenario at 6pm yesterday and had until 10am this morning to write a 2500 word memo. thankfully i have been battling the flu for the last 3 days and my head felt like it was going to explode with sinus pressure. yum. If you see my mum don’t tell her i’m sick. Some kids hide their drug addictions from their parents, excessive partying habits, speeding fines, i hide my shitty immune system from mine.

After 3 cups of black coffee, 2 cans of euro shopper* red bull imitation (30c ftw), 2 apples, 5 sour straps, one cup cake with “go giselle” on the icing (courtesy of my housmate) half a pack of rice crackers and some salty dutch liquorice (don’t knock it til you tried it) and zero sleep i got it in with 3 mins to go. I realised about 2 hours before the deadline i had misread the question and basically my entire answer was wrong. FML. Sleep deprived i had to drag myself along to the interview just a few short hours later. Seriously these international criminal lawyers love torture don’t let them fool you.

to make up for lack substance, wit and length in this post i will provide a picture of my new favourite dutch beverage. Fristi. I hope the packaging excites as much as it does me.

Peace out

*more on euroshopper coming soon just you wait

I thought i was so unbelievably smart starting up a blog. No need for groups emails, people can keeps tabs and voila i’m an excellent travel correspondent. Part of keeping a blog is actually writing regularly, i’m sure this fact is obvious to most people. Not I apparently. But here it is concerted effort numero uno.

I am currently in London but more about that next time.

Why I love studying in Holland #1:

Class field trips include a visit to the International Criminal Court.

So my Thursday involved getting up before 8 for the first time in ages and jumping on a train to Den Haag (for those of you playing at home it’s The Hague, I’m sorry my dutch is just so good that it just slips into my English) and going to the ICC and then popping up two floors to the Special Court for Sierra Leone. Beyond cool. Well there is nothing cool crimes against humanity. I know a lot of you don’t share my love for international institutions and aren’t feeling my excitement. It was like being in Disneyland but for nerds (and no rollercoasters). We saw the Katanga case at the ICC, Germaine Katanga was a former leader of the Patriotic Resistance Force in Ituri (DRC) charged with war crimes and crimes against humanity and we saw the Taylor case in the Special Court for Sierra Leone. We actually saw Charles Taylor being questioned by his defence council. Charles Taylor was the former Liberian president who was arrested while he was still Prez. If he is convicted (of 11 counts of war crimes and crimes against humanity) he will be the first head of state to be convicted of these crimes. Milosevic died in custody before his verdict was handed down. We also got briefed by a senior attorney on the Prosecution team for the Taylor case. Then we were briefed by Judge Steiner working on the Sudan cases. big day out.

Bike update:

Still needs a new chain, tyres need to be patched up, still need to saw the old lock off. Still not sure if the breaks work. But hey you get what you pay for.

Peace out.

Timing is everything. Probably should have started this blog at the start of my travels 8 weeks ago. But timing is for suckers who wear waterproof watches. Actually I bought my first watch in years and it’s waterproof. I still don’t wear it in the shower. I’m not convinced. I also probably bad timing starting this blog instead of doing my report on Russia and public participation. Who doesn’t love writing on Russia? Especially when you’re writing on something that doesn’t really exist in Russia.

How am I am hitting a wall. I can’t do this essay. Not for lack of ability (well maybe a little). Definitely for lack of will. Lack of respect for this rubbish subject is potentially the deciding factor. Not being at uni for almost 9 months has eroded my mad late night study skillz (that’s right I spelt it with a z that’s how gangsta I am I have a blatant disregard for spelling-so bad ass)

It’s 1.30am I have my first assignment of the semester due in 10 hours. Nowhere near finished. I took a 15 minute power nap. Thank you TAC adverts. It didn’t save my life or my essay. It just made me sleepier. Lucky I don’t have to operate heavy machinery. I don’t think a bike counts as heavy machinery. Although the sucky breaks make me feel like I’m dragging a dead hippo behind me everytime I have to break so maybe not too dissimilar from heavy machinery. Add that to my inability to adjust to life in the opposite side of the bike lane and I’m a road disaster waiting to happen. Check that I am a road disaster. My bike crash is up to 3. Dutch people really don’t like it when you crash into them. I don’t think that is a typical Dutch characteristic I think most people would be pretty pissed if I rammed into your bike with my rust bucket on wheels. Not my fault my bike was stolen and now I’m rising the rubbish house spare bike with no brakes. Well actually it is.

Dutch Rule Number 1:

Never leave your bike unlocked ever. Ever. Even in your own backyard.

Thanks for the memo life rule book of Holland. So really my bike wasn’t stolen I gave it away unwillingly. Everyone at one point here will get their bike stolen. Often multiple times a year. As a result the Dutch don’t find stealing bikes particularly morally repugnant but this attitude is limited to bikes. When I “adopted” * an abandoned bike two days ago my housemates were all like “hey nice work” or “wow you’re really becoming Dutch”. But when I “borrowed” a fruit crate (they don’t have milk crates here-blow) from the supermarket for room furniture they didn’t seem so cool about it. Go figure. I’m not becoming a clepto it’s just that these two events were in short succession. Start worrying when I start hanging out with Winona.

*Wasn’t really theft it had a busted chain, two busted tires, and it hadn’t been moved in weeks (I was keeping tabs). I’m just giving it a new home and a bit of love. Ok so it still had a lock-but the lock was rusty. Ergo=abandoned.

Today I was riding my bike in the drizzle. I don’t know why but I really hate drizzle. Pouring rain. Fine. You know it’s raining and you accept you’re going to be wet. But drizzle? Just commit. Rain or don’t rain, the light spray drives me nuts. My dislike for drizzle is irrational but in line with my dislike for lukewarm. Lukewarm tea, lukewarm food and especially a lukewarm shower. Hate them. I’m told the tongue is a super self healer-bring on the scalding soup.

Yesterday I said goodbye to summer. And now I am faced with in excess of 6 months of cold. I knew this was part of the deal when I decided to move to Holland but no one told me that this place trumps England in rain stakes. I don’t even remember what rain is-thank you el Niño.  Autumn is in town and I say I love it in theory, “oh how pretty all the leaves are brown and the sky is grey” we’ll see how I go in “rain-trecht”.  FYI I live in Utrecht and that was a bad attempt at humour.

Peace out.