Photo from Holy Man!
One of the benefits of working for the Council is that it holds a VIP box at the O2 – one of the biggest performance venues in London. The tickets aren’t free (which would be INCREDIBLE!) but they are available at a rate that is approximately the same as the top priced regular ticket. But we get a host!
iPhone quality photos...
Unlike the failed family attempt at a Disney World video postcard back in 1999, this time around I successfully created my very own Postcard from Anne’s House while in Amsterdam. Wanna see?
Or, instead of clicking on the link, check out the video clip. Then go to Amsterdam or better yet, read The Diary of a Young Girl
If you associate the words rainy and England, you’re not usually far off. Whilst my comrades back in southwestern ontario complained about the balmy sunshine I spent the summer in cardigans and closed-toed shoes. It was a wet season. Strangely … Continue reading
Our first full day in Amsterdam started at 715h when we were woken up by doors slamming in the hall. We’re not in a hostel, but are sharing our bathroom amongst three roos. After breakfast, which was included with the hotel stay, we set out to explore all that Amsterdam had to offer. Here are some photos with brief descriptions:
With no sunglasses on our eprsons, the bright sun caused mostly unflattering, squinty-eyed photos. Instead, here is example #243 of the thousands of bikes chained to railings in Amsterdam.
Urged by every travel book and previous visitor, we made our first official stop the Anne Frank Huis. It's been a while since I read the book, but seeing it in person was very poignant. No photos allowed inside.
postcard scenes abound
Probably the only example of Dutch food that I had on this trip, this sandwich was delicious. A bit surprising since the beef was raw. Beef, rocket, parmesan and truffle oil.
We accidentally found the famous sign on our way to the Van Gogh Museum. Ssee how sunny and hot it was? Sweaterdress. Bad. Idea.
So many samples of delicious cheese; pesto cheese is incredible. Almost bought a six-pack for 40 Euros but elected instead for a solitary round of Cumin Gouda.
The Bloemen Market, also known as the flower market. Now to figure out how to get those black tulip bulbs home to Canada...
Those aren't stones, they are various flavours of black liquorice or 'Dropp' as it's referred to here in the Nederlands. Tasty good.
Even the mannequins like to get naughty!
You may notice I look much happier than Melissa.... Look who found sunglasses!
Thank you to Melissa L. for the use of her Amsterdam guide book!
I was so smart to find a flight to Amsterdam for 12 noon. It meant that we’d have no early trip (and by early I mean a.c.o’d.) to the airport and no rushing in the morning. We arrived at Gatwick with plenty of timet o spare and it was only when I double-checked our departure terminal that I realized my error.
Okay, gimme a break – I’m sure I’m not the only person who has made the mistake of going to the wrong airport. With five airports in London and EasyJet leaving from three, it’s an easy mistake to make. The boarding pass for the return said Gatwick and I accidentally read that instead. Ooops.
Expecting the worst, I approached the EasyJet info desk and delivered my pathetic tale of woe. Surprisingly I was informed that we could get on the next flight to Amsterdam at 2:25 pm. And this one was to leave from Gatwick! 100£ later I had new tickets for us and we were on our way.
We had time to eat a leisurely breakfast, plot out ‘to see’ sights from the guidebook, and rush through check-in before boarding our flight. It was half empty, by the way.
We each got a stamp at Schiphol Border Control, bought out train tickets, and missed our train. The platform signs are confusing… and in Dutch! But we did make it to Centraal Station and found our hotel.
at our hotel window which overlooked a canal
The Tourist Inn has an extremely modern-looking lobby, and the rooms are down an alleyway in a canal house. Our room had a beautiful large window that we could throw open over the canal. It’s lovely. And purple. We also had a sink and a bed. There was a small folding chair but it took up half our walking space so it was put away. Our room was very small, in case you didn’t get the hint. But what it lacked in size it made up for in character. We were happy with it.
View from outside the front door at night.
The red lights are what you think they are – the hotel was right in the middle of the red light district. We found the legalized prostitution to be very intriguing – it raised several questions for us. Melissa felt sad, I felt that the women were more protected in this type of setting. It’s certainly a bizarre experience to walk past a window displaying a lady in lingerie. It’s even more strange to watch a man walk away, zipping up his trousers as he leaves.
A few more sad princesses
Last month, Melissa organized an ex-pat blog meet-up at Biscuit in Greenwich for a few foreigners living in London. I believe hers was the second of this type, and she suggested that it occur monthly – organized by someone else next. I’ve decided to step up to the plate and stick with the artsy theme (sort of), by putting forth an invite to:
Last year when I first arrived in London, I was struck by the artism of the outside of the palace. Always a sucker for a good princess tale, I wasn’t able to resist the ‘Enchanted’ theme, and went to the Palace on my own. I’ve always spoken highly of the exhibit, but with January 3/12 (the last day) quickly approaching, it’s high-time I return. Here’s a bit about it:
Experience light and fashion installations woven together with spectacle and performance. Kensington Palace has been transformed into the Enchanted Palace. At the heart of the Enchanted Palace journey is a quest for the seven princesses who once lived here. Their lives have been re-imagined as installations offering a fascinating interpretation of the palace’s hidden stories. The rebellious princess who ran from an arranged marriage into the arms of love. Sad queens who bore the pain and sadness of lost babies. The young heir to the throne who escaped the controlling grasp of her overprotective mother.
Visitors must use their eyes and ears to find clues that reveal the identity of the elusive royal residents. Guided by an enchanted map, the advice of obliging palace guardians and a few helping hands, their search will take them to all the hidden corners of the State Apartments and lead them to a glittering finale where they will at last meet the princesses face to face.
Ticket prices: £11.50 online; £10.00 for students. Or, with a train ticket in to London, 2for 1 at £12.50.
I’m putting forth the following dates: Nov 12, 13 or 19. Any ex-pat bloggers living in London or surrounds are welcome to attend. Leave a comment with your thoughts.
Want to see more pictures?
It’s always sad when guests leave. Being intercontinental, I have been blessed with a variety of visitors from home (and second home, France). It’s nice to share my England life with the people I love, and on the flip side, hard to say goodbye knowing that I won’t see them again for a good while.
My parents and brother left this morning, the last of a succession of guests over the last few months.
As a bit of a review…
Jen came to stay with me for her remaining weeks in London, which is when we went to Lea on Sea, Kings Lynn and Marrakech.
Jennifer returned to Canada on September 9 and Melissa arrived on September 25. We spent a few days in London an Amsterdam respectively.
Melissa left on October 1 and then my family flew in on the glory of Air Transat on the 9 October. It was a whirlwind spree over to France where we spent time with family, took a road trip through Provence, and then returned for a week in London.
It was as I was walking back from the bus stop today that I really had an opportunity to reflect on the past two months. I’m so grateful that I have loves ones that are willing to make the long journey to see me and I miss them intensely. But as a tiny selfish sidenote, I’m so looking forward to having my bed to myself!
Morning calm in Bermondsey.
Arles. Its an old roman city complete with arena and theatre, with an Italian feel but the French language. Parfait!
Below, the arena.
Here is a beautiful street in Arles. Alain said there is no street in the city that is not beautiful, and I am inclined to believe him.
The theatre which is under construction.
My ‘terrine de tauraux’ or bull liver pate. It was frighteningly delicious, as was the confiture des ongions that came with it. Tasty!
Whereas drake and I were definitely in our element, Chris did not feel the same. He couldn’t understand anything that was being said OR read the menu; was extremely overheated in the restaurant, and an accordion wad emitting loud music right behind his head. Ce n’était pas son goût. (above)
Below, drake and I enjoy this provincial French town.
And after a few twists and turns in the road (and yes, a bit of mal a la voiture on my part) we found ourselves in Saint Marie de la Mer, where there were many palomino horses, a beach where drake and I found some purple sea urchins, steak for lunch, and flamingoes! Alas, none were flying upside down into the lagoon (brush up on your Peter pan to get that reference).
Just as we thought there was nothing more France could do to to impress us, we rounded a bend in the road and came upon a castle carved into a tall rockface. Baux en Provence is a small village with … Continue reading
