Flying on a Dutchman

While at the first ever Stitch n Bitch (I managed to tear out half my stitches just as we were leaving but oh well), serendipity struck in the form of V, a fellow sewer in attendance. V is also a competitive cyclist and rides no less than a vintage racing bike. When I mentioned my bike woes she said immediately that I HAD to see her friend Theo at Mac Bikes. He knew his shiznit on bikes and would not steer me wrong. Mac Bikes on Marnixstraat, mind you, and not one of the heinous Mac Bikes that doles out frustration in the form of red bikes to Italian & Spanish tourists who clog up the streets riding like idiots... I digress.

Next day I trek over, walking my life-support bike in hand. Theo himself is in attendance. He spots the death spot immediately. I ask him if there's any hope of repair (what are hand-welders for if not this??) and he shakes his head. He then shows me the bikes they have, explaining they take 2nd hand bikes and fix them up with new bits and pieces. Good frames can always be saved. He himself has a pre-WWII bike, never been stolen (lock the back lock AND chain it to something good citizens), most everything original except the bits that wear out the most, evidently the bit that holds the pedals in, for example.

Admitting that I ain't afraid of no back-pedal breaks, he shows me two Batavius omafietsen. Batavius = rocks, it is a Dutch brand. He lets me take the one, then the other out for a test ride. The minute I get on the second one I have a big, dopey grin on my face. It's love at first pedal. She is a blue Flying Dutchman, evidently top of the line 35 years ago when she was first made. Theo points out the bits they've replaced, then proceeds to salvage all worth salvaging from my dead bike to transplant on the new one. It's a short list - just the saddle and the back light. In the meanwhile I pepper Theo with questions. Such is how I learn that fancy-lookin' bikes like Fietsfabriek en MOOF are crap, and that it's normal to sink 30-40 EUR in maintenance into your bike per year, and that quality is really in the construction and material of the frame.
Just to kill time he lets me take out one of the new-old models, a new bike constructed in the old way. Ooo, I was very tempted, but figured better start off with the one I picked since Theo has just transplanted my saddle bags over.

All this in an hour and for 170 EUR (I got 5 EUR off for BYOS- bring your own saddle). Bikes ain't cheap, but I feel good about the purchase and anyways I get a 1 month check up free if something goes wrong. Certainly cheaper than cars. I've had repair jobs on cars in the states that cost more than the new bike.

Goodbye Cleveland!*

Monday night I was cycling home from work. It's a recent phenomenon to be able to cycle to and from work again. The back is not at all 100% free of pain, but I can do things again and I have been soooooo glad to be back on the bike to work.

I understand public transit is a blessing, but it is still a stress in the morning commute. Having the option to bike to work is something I think I would find difficult to give up. So I was happy to be biking home, but I noticed the bike was not "lekker" cycling. I was getting a pull to the right and a lot of resistance on my front wheel. Stopped once, tool a look - nothing stuck in the wheel I could see. Keep riding, but sensations are worse. Stop again, do more thorough check, but still can't figure it out. I had just been to the bike shop on Saturday for a (granted not terribly thorough) check and had been pronounced a clear bill of health on the front end. I'd taken it in because the back bit that prevents mud from coming off is nearly totally falling off, and the front tire needs to be replaced.

Nearly home and it was really getting bad. I stopped again and noticed what I had missed - the front mud guard (that thin metal that forms a half arc above the back of the wheel) was being pushed into the front tire, but only when it was baring my weight, ie, sitting on the bike. I was effectively shaving off one side of the tire. I was almost home by then. I got a hammer, thinking I needed to just bang the thing out of the way of being pushed into the tire. BF showed up at that exact moment to present me, sweaty and carrying a hammer in one hand, with surprise bouquet of flowers.

I let BF have a go at whacking the front mud gaurd, but it wasn't doing much. Then he made the eurika observation: "isn't that front bit supposed to go in a straight line from the handlebars right down to the fork that holds the wheel?". Indeed, on my bike it looked like the joint between the frame and the folk holding the front week was stacked like one stair going down to another.

Taking a closer look, we found out why.

A long, fat crack running from the frame and just the tiniest hair of a fraction of a milimeter from going all the way through. Basically I had been merrily riding on a bike that was moments from literally splitting in two.

Lameness! No way you can fix a cracked frame. It is new bike time for me. Grrrr. Rest in peace, you piece of crap bike that nearly could of killed me. You served me admirably for two years, and I'm only greatful you didn't snap in two while I was in motion.

At least it will be cheaper than a car repair/replacement I guess!

*Cleveland was the weird model name of the bike

The slow corruption

This is what my fellow ex-pat Americans accuse me of whenever I use words such as "loo" and "trainers". It is the influence of listening to non-American English in regular doses from the BF. Not only in choice of words, he has managed to replace beloved NPR with BBC4 radio. Today I caught myself singing along to the credits music with one of the shows we like on Sundays.

Although I have to say some of those throwing the accusations are themselves picking up habits from their partners. It is an interesting evolution that the group of ladies I hang with are now all quite coupled. Some couples have moved here from their home country, but a lot of us have met other foreigners here. For one, I have lots of incriminating photos of a certain American friend dating an Italian where there is a lot of suspicious hand gesturing going on.

Greece, almost fricking done, day 5

Day 5 we had to make up time from a rather leisurely pace up until then. The boat is moving before we are even up - it is to be our "Big Sail", though technically we are on the motor. Damon our skipper and B make the sacrifice to get the boat off at 6am. We have to first drop the torn sail off in Leros to see if they can fix the thing. The wind is with us in this direction - we do the entire distance back to Ks and further in 10 hour. The ride is smooth. Eat breakfast and make spaghetti for lunch with no sea sickness issues at all. 

To pass the time we sleep, some even manage to read books without getting ill. We play a game.: play a Greek Greatest Hits  CD on repeat the ENTIRE TRIP until someone cracks. That person will owe the rest a round of drinks but more importantly will  lose respect and honor in the face of their peers. Later we up the ante and leave the CD repeating on the first track, Zorba the Greek. No one gives, though the skipper gets very, very close. Later the CD will be put on "silent" when concentration is required for docking, and then is mysteriously shut off tho no one will admit having done the deed. 

Our destination of such a distance is Nisyros, arriving in good time at 4pm. Everyone is itching to go. Pull into a commercial dock, rent a car at a shop 10 feet from our boat, and e are on our way to see the main event, a live volcano. There is lots of joking about "Volcano Power" and eruptions thanks to our Italian friend who is very excited to see his first active volcano. Unfortunately the most powerful eruption we experience is the smell - sulfur stinks! Good for fart jokes though. There is lots of gas and it is super hot, and many interesting crystals forming around where the steam is slipping out through crevaces in the ground. 

Afterwards we split up. BF, the skipper and another couple and I decide to do a short but unbelievably steep hike part-way up the crater where the volcano is. The hike is enroute to the new volcano museum on the other side of the island. The others go to cool off at a black beach. The museum and the hike are both small but very nice. We learn all about the history of the island and see lots of by-products of volcanos on display in order to be able to identify them around the island. Mainly pumince and obsidian. On our way back we take another hike down, less steep. We decide to move to the other harbor on the island as there is still space and it is much quieter and the waters calmer. 

Dinner on shore at a resto called the Captain, where the food is good but not as good as Arki. We are facinated by stories of local politics. Someone has recently taken an initiative to redo the dock and the results are very good indeed. This has however inspired jealousy among neighbors and now they want to levy a tax on the yachts that come through. This spites the guy who build it, as he has seen that when little island ports charge, the yachts simply find somewhere else to dock. You can earn money by their visits, as they will always eat and use facilities. 

still here, but it is crazy busy

grrr.

Last night we went to see English comedy at Toomler again. We are suckers for this. Toomler is a very odd place. Every single one of us understood something differently regarding the reservations policy and ticket purchase. They also get full really early so you have to show up at least an hour an a half before the show to get a decent seat.

Never mind, it was actually a really good show. Three Australians, all very good, and a Dutch dude. Typically they will have two real acts and will allow some up and coming act to come on for a tiny amount of time to try their stuff. Markus Birdman(UK) & Jon Richardson (UK) were the headliners. Both very good.

lying liar!

Well poop - no time at all yesterday to write. We have a couple people out sick and the overflow is a bit nuts. So no Greece just yet. In the meantime, some fun facts:

• Amsterdam is officially a freakin' expensive city, but not as bad as Japanese cities:

http://www.mercer.com/costoflivingpr

• Where are your priorities when you think of the future?

http://www.igniteseurope.com/articles/2009070/more_spent_affairs_than_pensions_survey

More spent on affairs than pensions: survey

Article published on 8 July 2009

Cheating husbands and wives in the UK spend more on their love affairs than they do on putting money aside for their retirement, according to data complied by IllicitEncounters.

Unfaithful spouse spend an average £3,500 (€4,050) each year conducting their affairs, the extra-marital dating site calculates. This figure includes spending on accommodation, weekends away, phone calls, gifts and flowers.

On a monthly basis that equates to about £291, compared to the £59 Halifax bank says the average Briton pays into their pension each month.

boat pause for weekend round up

Gotta write this now before I forget even more of what I did over the weekend!

Friday I had a half day and did some food shopping on the Albert Cuyp. This has become my default outdoor market not because it does not inherently suck compared to other markets in town but because it is closer and I am lazy. Later BF and I score mega-super-5-up karma points for babysitting for our friends M and A, who live down the street. They have an adorable baby, X, who also happens to be GIANTASTIC. The boy was born nearly 10 lbs and he has kept up the pace. At 9 months he is around 20 lbs, and has the motor skills to match. Luckily he slept most the night, waking only just in time to puke on my sweater and scream a whole lot. Turns out he ended up screaming for hours, so it wasn't our doing per se. 

Saturday started with a fortifying croque madame at George. Then we shopped even more because we were having a BBQ for the 4th of July! It has been until this week shockingly warm and sunny. Nearly unheard of, especially the last two years having brought unbelievable shitballs of weather during the summers. I did supreme indulgence, subjecting BF to many weird sorts of French butchery goodness: anduille sausage (not a hit) boudin blanc (a hit) and rillettes (BIG hit) which I picked up at a French butchery - definitely will remember that place for future reference. To reward his bravery we got ice cream cones from Ijscuypje, which is not only good, but turns into a stampot take-out place in the winter - classic!

We also grilled zucchini, and generally ate a crap-ton of food. As we were hosting the BBQ at Westerpark, we also got to listen to Lenny Kravitz as part of Live at Westerpark, a festival during the summer that is free if you don't mind standing outside the gates and not really seeing the stage. Danced like mad to American Woman of course, even got a thumbs up and cheering from the police manning security.

BF's quote: "We met at AA!"

French Meat mania

Westerpark in meaty, BBQ mist

Sunday was very low key. One of our good friends had gotten in a bike accident on Friday and we went to bring him sustenence (curry) and company. Through some daft chick not thinking to signal she was turning, he totalled him bike and fractured his elbow. Since then I've noticed how most cyclists (myself included to my regret, at least sometimes) never signal. We mow along as if we own the city. And we do to a degree - we are top of the traffic food chain, topped only now and then by trams. But this causes lots of interbike accidents, which probably could be avoided if we only would be a bit more considerate of other folks.

More boat tomorrow, promise!

Lipsi, Patmos, Arki - day 4 on the Boat

Day 4 on the boat is jam-packed. Get up, check we haven't forgotten anything on the beach from the night before, then go for a morning swim. Motor a little way to beautiful underwater caves. This area is filled also with other boats as it is a popular stops for yacht groups like ours and day trips. Swimming around is fantastic.

Later we push on to the island where St John wrote the revelation, Patmos. We visit the monestary but it is closed that afternoon. We walk around the old city with its winding streets, white walls and blue doors that are typical of most of Greece. Back on the boat and on to Arki, a tiny, tiny little place with population of 48, up by three from last year according to the tavern owner. Some of us take a nice walk to the other side of the island (an hour walking slow making room for the goats which outnumber people on this island). On the other side we run into some new construction. Debate if it is cheaper or more expensive to build your summer home out in the middle of nowhere. Have a fantastic meal at one of the three tavernas on the island. The owner is also the DJ and puts on surprisingly good music. He is also super friendly and treats us to a round of what I think was either homemade moonshine or raki. We have the same dishes as usual - every place puts their own local twist though.

Interlude from Boat: life here still going on

Last night we had our first unofficial drinks I mean get together for the women's club of Amsterdam. It was a beautiful day and one of the members was gracious enough to allows us to host it from her gorgeous patio. For some reason because it was unofficial we got a lot more menfolk, even though partners of members are welcome to all events. I even got the BF to come out.

Three hours passed before we even realized it. Here the one saving grace of being so far north is the fantastically long days in summer. So it was still light when we left at 10:30, still light when we waited an E-TEERRRRR-NITY for our damn bugers at Burgermeester*, and just setting at 11:30 when we finally got home to eat them.

It is such a blessing to be able to meet and exchange ideas with smart people. BF made a good observation - that when people are smart you can almost always have a good discussion, regardless of their age, life experience, or personality/views. Our brains were buzzing with thoughts and alcohol well into the morning.

*Burgermeester is something of a local institution in Amsterdam. People frickin' loooooove it. I am not a huge fan, except of the fact that they are the only place still open after 10:00 here to get food. The burgers are fine, but they are expensive and righteous. The resto refuses to sell anything overtly unhealthy, like french fries or diet coke. What good does it do me if you serve veggie burgers but no frites??

day 2 and some of 3 Vathi to

http://picasaweb.google.com/rob.heald/GreekIslandsPart1?authkey=Gv1sRgCMif3Kya4P23CQ&feat=directlink#5350096292881323490

End Day 2 & Day 3 Greece, but no photos, soorry!

Day two. Get up, have breakfast that will be our traditional: Greek yogurt, honey, fruit, and museli. Walk up to see some ancient early Christian rubble that was once a church. Churches and monestaries are rife across the Dodecanese.

Ok, if I try to put photos up I will f*ing kill someone. Can't wait til Google Wave is available! Blogger photo upload is designed by a masochistic retard. :(

Day two. Get up, have breakfast that will be our traditional: Greek yogurt, honey, fruit, and museli. Walk up to see some ancient early Christian rubble that was once a church. Churches and monestaries are rife across the Dodecanese.

Then back in the boat. Thanks to the miracle drug Dramamine which I did not take the first day, I and everyone else on board is fine, even though the sea is still quite choppy. We sail 21 miles to Pandelli on the island of Leros. Lots of fun rocking with the boat and trying our hands at sailing. Unfortunately it's the last day we'll get to sail with the main sail. We anchor in the harbor (it's small and full) and discover it's torn. Boo! The sail wasn't in great shape to begin with, so it's annoying the reassurances of the rental company have been false.

Take the dingey in batches (it holds 4) to land and have a great meal at a resto called Zorba the Greek. With small ports, the rule is actually go to the resto closest to harbor. Food is great, same small dishes as yesterday and some get mains, including a huge plate of very tiny fried fishes and the fish of the day, which due to the unfortunate effects of alcohol costs us 90 frickin' euros. Few nightcaps on the boat again. We had eacj couple pick up a bottle of booze at duty free in A'dam, having recieved a very early text from B our early man in, saying the island costs were high.

Day 3. Some of us rent cars to tour the island, some decide to have a walk and the lounge on the beach. Everyone's first destination is. The Kastro, a Templar castle in great shape but little information. There is also a great Greek Orthodox church, entry 1 euro suggested donation to the stooped little old lady clad in black. Next we drive to the other side of the island to see the "big harbor", filled with yachts owned by people (most are rented by poor plebs like us). A little further on we come to the bunker WWII musuem. The island was an impt naval battle site and the museum is located in one of the old German bunkers (hint: it was not a happy ending to the battle for the Allies). Have a chilled coffee (heavy cream, coffee, lots of ice), then do a big shop again. Our first big shop was done by B, who got in at 3 am from London on the first day! We are loading up because we are not planning to be in a big harbor tonight. In fact, we don't go to any harbor at all. Damon takes us around until we find what amounts to a private beach off Lipsi. One of our friends swims to shore to tie us up. We take swims, then via dingey port all the food and alcohol over to have a lovely BBQ on the beach. BF has brought tunes via an iPod portable thingababob, and the stars and a fire provide the entertainment. Dancing and a night cap back on the boat - we manage not to lose anything, even when our makeshift bar comes loose (note to beach BBQers - don't bother trying to dig your liquor bottles into the sand to keep them cold. The water will pull them loose no mater what)

Weekend Round up!

Friday met up on a sunny warm day ( = rare) with O for drinks, snacks. Went to a tapas place, realized we could just catch the Hangover if we hurried. Had then the most amazing dining experience ever in Amsterdam: ordered, got served, and paid, at a sit down resto, in a half hour. Uncroyable!! Alas, stupid movie theatre sold out just as we were two away from the ticket counter. This being a small city, there were no midnight showings, so we went to drink... more! Barely sat down inside the resto before the skies opened and it poured down rain.

Frozen margarita hangover the next day. Go to George for breakfast and nearly order something other than a croque madame or a salad niciose. Nearly. Next time I swear. Then walk to the Albert Cuypmarkt as I am on a mission: I have to buy cloth. I am taking an all day sewing class with a bunch of other gals the next day. The last sewing I did on a machine was in 7th grade, and I barely passed. Since then I've avoided it like the plague. But I have been curious for a long time now. So when friend M said she was organizing it, I figured there would never be a better chance. Rewarded ourselves for getting the cloth by getting an icecream cone. Later that evening had seriously one of the best Japanese meals I've ever had here, at Issa. Great raw fish, good portions for A'dam standards, and a bunch of other foods. We had a Japanese pancake with seafood, forgot how good those are, some other small munchies, and the big hit, a big bowl of simmering broth in which veg and noodles cook. You get a plate of thinly sliced beef next to it, which you dip in for just a few moments and it gets boiled. Fantastic! All of us were sick we ate so much. Not so fantastic.

Sunday get up at ungodly hour of 9:20 am, to roll into clothes and attend my all-day sewing class. Take VERY detailed notes, and manage to actually make a skirt I will wear, hourah! Plus the group of ladies I attended with are all very keen to do more sewing. They have a group which meets twice a month, on the Stitch and Bitch model, wherein folks bring their sewing machines and everyone brings their project along. Since sewing on a machine is only a fraction of the time in putting a garment together, I totally leaped in to join. To start, I would just make another skirt using the pattern I had made.

Tuna burgers turned into tuna burning to pan and crumbling when I try to flip them. Mother F'ers. If anyone knows the secret to a tuna burger remaining in patty formation, frickin' sell me a clue.

The pain of memory

right, so I started on more Greece. More exactly, I sat with the pictures open on my PC for two hours and dawdled doing other things. I realized then that I was actually avoiding doing the updates. It makes me sad to look at the pictures. The trip was really an amazing experience, for all of us. It was a totally different way of traveling, and I am definitely hooked. It also allowed me to try a couple of experiences, through traveling with others and being exposed to their tastes, that I wouldn't normally have done. For example, renting buggies is a lot of fun. Hiking, something I wouldn't normally consider as a holiday activity, is lots of fun. Swiming in the ocean and pools, also fun. Plus we all got along famously even in super close quarters, something I was absolutely not sure of.

So I will write up the trip, and in the next couple weeks, but it may take some time.

In the meantime, life goes on. Last night was an informal send of drinks for our US Consulate General here for Amsterdam. I got to know Margie through my work with the AWCA (I am chair of the professional women's group, thus ensuring I get to drink wine at least once a month). We have our monthly events at the Amsterdam Consulate, and very fine they have been too. Margie is a true public servant. Naturally the people around her share a sense of needing to give back to the community - she is like a strong wind which fans those flames even higher. It feels good to have someone in your sphere who is a constant encouragement that there is more to life that feeding your id, that it is still noble to be active in your community. I will definitely miss her and her tireless support for my tiny club. I also got to meet a few other remarkable ladies that I hope to reach out to in the coming weeks.

One other cool thing was the place it was held at was doing a show of a well know graffiti artist here in Amsterdam. You see his stuff all over, Laiser 3.14. It was facinating to hear the curator of the exhibit talk about the code of graffiti artists. Even outlaws have laws, as the saying goes. For example the ones who call themselves artists follow strict rules, and even do some regulation around their territory when they feel those rules aren't being respected. For example, they tag non-permanent structures mostly. They distinguish between tagging and art. They will come down on anyone tagging historic buildings. She related a story of overhearing one of the artists at the opening on a cellphone call. He was talking clearly to some newbie on the scene who'd made a transgression of tagging older buildings, "We know who you are," she overheard, "and if you do it again, we will find you."

Gig is up! (Sorry, more Greece soon )

So I have been informed today that internationally it is known that I have a blog. Not here locally though I may have just spilled the beans just now to a colleague. Who knew anyone was interested?

(more Greece tonight, I hope!)

day 1: Land in Kos, sail to Vathi

Flight from A'dam to Kos leaves at 6 am. We catch a taxi with nearly the entire group of 8 (minus 2), and it doesn't matter that is butt-ass early in the morning, we are wholly psyched for our holiday. Transavia gets us there in one piece and a tremendous bounce on the landing.

Taxi to Kos marina from the airport is around a half hour. It is a busy and as we will soon find out relatively big harbor for the Dodecanes. Our boat is a Beneteau Cyclades 50.5, and is overall a good vessel. We are all sharing cabins, except our skipper Damon, who proves his awesomeness time and time again.

Getting on the mother F'n boat (you can blame the BF for this being our official Greek Islands anthem)


First day was, to understand, very rough. Winds of "kracht 7" (gale force). I naively thought I would not get sea sick, because while I get nauseous I never throw up. So wrong. Nearly everyone got sick, most of us physically. I was the big winner though - sick and continuously throwing up nearly the entire three hour trip. I threw up on my friend B. I threw up over the side of the boat. I threw up in three of the five cabin below deck. I threw in all three toilets below deck.

Eventually I managed to stay in one room (alas not mine!) and even got my own bucket, which we (affectionately?) named Bart the bucket (for Barfalemuel, get it, haha).

Me and Bart. By the end, I was throwing up pure stomach acid. I can therefore confirm it is a lime green color.

It's worth it - the harbor of Vathi on Kalymnos is beautiful:

The mother f'n boat at Vathi harbor:

That night we are awoken by what we as nautical amateurs can only define as "bad sounds". The boat next to us has somehow drifted over and their anchor line is tugging our out. Fun ensues at 2:30am as Damon & friend B sort it out.

Next morning, first of regular bkfast: Greek yogurht, honey, fruit, and & muesli - fantastic. Then a short walk.

Damon in front of some early Christian ruins.

Kalymnos was known for its divers:

Painted on all the boats:

Dinner we share lots of starters - taziki, Greek salad, haloumi cheese and all pass out. Next day heading out, felt much better. Walk up to visit the rubble of an ancient early Christian church.

The day is still pretty windy - you can't see from this so well from this picture, but the boys are very close to the water due to the rocking of the boat.