We arrived here about two weeks ago and we had to learn some quick lessons on travelling about the place. In some respects Amsterdam is beautiful. Buildings four or five hundred years old leaning out over the street because the foundations rotted away decades ago. Little stone carvings showing the trade of the people who used to live there before the time when most people could read. I'm becoming something of an expert in recognising the age of a building. Giveaways like uniform brick size, the style of windows, the way the building is designed and the ornamentation. Things like that fascinate me because I love building and seeing how it developed over time is interesting. Dad seems surprised that I can do it so easily so it must just be me that notices those sorts of things. His attention is elsewhere. He keeps trying to show me links between Dutch and English in words around the place but I have zero interest. I am cultivating quite the Dutch accent, much to my annoyance. You don't even realise you're doing it but you start talking the way everyone else talks. Everyone in Amsterdam speaks English and this is a blessing.
Dad was born and grew up in Amsterdam and I've now seen where he lived and where he went to school, and I've walked the streets he played soccer in. Listening to him talk there are some things that are very different...and some things that are still the same. Kids still play soccer in the alleys, dam square (the square in front of the palace) is still full of street performers and most of the streets are closed to cars. That doesn't make it safe for pedestrians - the Dutch ride bicycles the way the Rebels ride Harleys. They're not swerving if you're dumb enough to be in their way. The fact that they all drive on the right side of the road only adds to my confusion. Traffic accident is high on the list of ways I'll check out at the moment.
We only spent one night in the city centre. One hundred and twenty euro for a tiny room looking out into a dirty alley. We headed back to Schiphol (near the airport) where the rooms were 70 euro a night and you had room to move around the bed and a view. While I do love the city, it had its drawbacks aside from very expensive accommodation. Too many people and everyone smokes. My throat hurt for two days and I was sure I was getting sick but as soon as we were back in the country I realised it was just the cigarette smoke. It's very different from Australia in this respect. Almost everyone smokes and no one seems to mind. They have smoking rooms in the airport. Walking in there was like being gassed. After twelve hours on a plane Dad was in heaven. Just walk into that room, inhale and no need for a cigarette.
Dad talks to everyone and thanks to matching jumpers with the Australian flag and AUSTRALIA on them, everyone talks to us. They love Aussies. We had one incident when a couple of Germans in a restaurant were giving us filthy looks and muttering. I didn't realise they were having a go at us for speaking English (and being English apparently) until Dad turned and addressed them in German. Mad scramble to leave with very red faces. He may not speak all of the languages any more but his understanding is spot on. Everyone else thinks Australians are the bomb and they can't wait to chat. Given Dad's love of a good yarn this can be somewhat challenging - he goes out for a cigarette and an hour later you have to go find him and peel him off his new best friend.
Since we've arrived I've introduced him to Skype. Mainly because he made three phone calls home from Korea which cost me $95 for the whole ten minutes. He doesn't understand how Skype is free...or the difference between the internet and Skype. Now whenever I look something up on the internet I'm using Skype. Confuses the hell out of everyone he says "oh yes, my daughter Skyped that" to. I've tried explaining it several times but now I've given in. It's easier to just say "sure I'll Skype that for you". *sigh* He is deeply suspicious of the technologies but he has begrudging respect for the amount I can do on my tablet. Check travel times, book accommodation, call home for free, the works. The fact that hotels give us free WiFi only adds to his suspicion that it's all some kind of weird conspiracy or voodoo. The tablet may be the best thing I've bought myself in a long while. I would hate to be doing everything on my phone.
The old man "skyping". For reals.
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