10.03.09
Sat 6:44pm
IcelandAir Flight 0614 departed on time from New York, JFK on Thursday. Nice, clean planes with widescreen viewing screens in each seat. Was excited enough to start my movie (Wolverine: The Origin or whatever) but after a Tylenol PM, I was out like a light. Landed in Reyjavik in the wee hours of the morning, too tired to notice the airport's beautiful design and simplicity. (Also, no booming loud speaker announcements and uber-regimented boarding procedures. Just a simple hand gesture from the attendant to let us know our flight was boarding. Civilized.)
Flight to Amsterdam was another Tylenol PM pyschedelic dream journey and landed in the afternoon without a hitch. Amsterdam airport was quick and efficient, complete with kissing dutch figurines decals on opposing sliding doors that kiss when closed. As Eeshka's (read: Alicia) flight was landing shortly after mine, I grabbed a karamelstroopwafer and waited for her to arrive. A fun reunion, (and seeing each other in Winter garb for the first time ever) dash to the train, and we had finally arrived in Amsterdam proper.
Rolling 100+lbs of clothes down the Damrak is not recommended. I am actually sore from it. Met up with Paola, my new roommate, her mother, and our friend and colleague Monsiuer Simone or Simon. A quick baguette and we were off to the rental agency. Old Dutch man and his missus ran the place. Very proper couple - he rotund and red-cheeked, smoldering cigarette in the background - she equally rotund with peach lipstick and violet eyeshade. A few thousand signatures later and we had our place. The owner of the apartment, a chubby mousey Turkish man, lead us to the place. The apartment is tucked right behind the Leidseplein, a bustling plaza with a few hundred tables and chairs, all populated by patrons slugging beer and nursing cigarettes. Yes, right around the corner is our cute little apt. It sits right above an art cinemateque and across the street from the Melkweg, a concert and club venue. Needless to say, very appropriate for two art direction students.
The apartment itself is quaint...white...simple...clean. My bedroom is very small but I was completely anticipating that moving to Amsterdam. We checked the place out and headed back out into the abuzz streets of Amsterdam to grab some groceries, cleaning supplies, and toiletries for the place. An hour or two later and we had returned, asking the Politie (Police) to remove concert barriers for us in order to make our way to the apartment. The cab was chock full of our luggage and groceries. Chock. Full. The hotel concierge and the cab driver actually laughed at us. Cut us some slack though, Paola's mother's things were included in that heap.
I thought our street our street was riddled with bicycles and scooters BEFORE. Well, put a concert or a DJ in the Melkweg and you can barely walk on the street. While I imagine it might become agitating sometime down the line, last night it was invigorating. Lifting our luggage, carefully (uncarefully?) stepping over bicycles, trying to move into our new place. It was fun.
We were in. My clothes were here. We had ketchup in the fridge and bread in the cupboard (which meant I was atleast good for a ketchup sandwich, right? ;) ). Felt good. Amidst the flurry of our day, we had forgotten to eat and by the time we made it out for dinner it was after 11pm and everything was closing. Walked up and down the canals looking for a hot bite, but eventually found it back near our apt. Italian. Tortellini. Wine. Bread. Delicious. Thank you, Essi (Paola's mother).
Bed time came around 2:30am with a little nudge from confidant, TyPM.
Day 2
Woke up, fixed myself some Muesli (yup yup) and watched CNN while i messed around and chatted online. Eventually headed out in to the city with the goal of buying a phone, but moreso just wanting to explore a bit. Brought my camera last minute thinking I might not be in the mood yet to take photography but clearly wrong once I hit the streets.
Amsterdam is a photographer's heaven. Beautifully designed buildings, all seeping with history and architecture, details so small I'm sure most people miss them, all set amongst the series of canals which are teeming with cute boats and swans. Well. My phone journey turned into a full on exploration - snapping pictures, having espresso, and dodging bicycles (mobile, with people on them this time). Cold. Blustery. Scarf-weather. Walked around the Blumen market, the main shopping district (where I picked up my phone! +31 068 149 5851), farmer's market, and stopped by our agency named Pindakaas, or 'peanut butter' in Dutch. Beautiful, old building, and reporting there for duty Monday morning...! 320 Herengracht: an unbelievably gorgeous canal street.
Going to head out to meet my peers for a beer maybe and then out to dinner with Paola and her mother, Essi.
Day turning to night. Rain splatting against window. Jason Mraz on shuffle. Cozy.
