Anny Travels

Jul 8

Anniversary of the rest of my life

Or so my laptop's alarm cheerfully informed me as the clock struck midnight just now... I had forgotten I'd set a permanent yearly reminder in iCal.

Exactly one year ago from now (give or take an hour) I'd put my clothes on, picked up my fags and room key, and left my brother and his friend sleeping in our hotel in Folkestone for a midnight walk to the beach. I couldn't sleep. Once there I sat down on the rox, started smoking (which I continued to do until I could have puked) and watched the stars, wondering what I was doing, why I was doing it, how I hoped to achieve it.

I'd just finished reading The Alchemist - my first Coelho, a recommendation of my closest friend in the world - cover to cover, and in the first two weeks of my travels I read it another two times. I loved it, I texted her as much before I went away, but thinking back now I don't think I took its lesson to heart; a couple of my crazier posts at the time (now hidden out of embarrassment) indicated as much.

Recent events have forced me to seriously reflect on who I was a year ago, who I was when I returned home, and who I am today... I struggle to be open with my closest friends and family about details and I'm certainly not posting them online, so I'll appropriate that popular metaphor - I was a desperate man clinging onto a branch, halfway down a cliff. I could have let go, saving my energy to deal with the splishy-splash beneath. Instead I clung faithfully on — predictably the branch snapped one day, catching me with my knickers down, tossing me into violent darkness.

Tremendously fucking shit understates how I've felt for a good while now. Cannabis abuse, exaggerated perversity and awful meanness have been nice crutches - if not answers. But over the last couple of weeks I'm finding I have the strength to stand myself up again... and though the difficulty is far from over, I feel a change in myself which makes things easier; the change I didn't know I was looking for a year ago, or might have been but couldn't force onto myself. I forgot.

Maybe today is the start of the rest of my life? Like some kind of cosmic joke I've only understood a year late, and it's not funny any more. But man who the fuck knows, I'm no astrologer. The point is: when you're holding a branch halfway down a cliff, let the fuck go cause you're gonna fall anyway. However long it might take, you'll find some other way to get back on top and whack off into the sun.

May 12

Tips for the Traveller

While wandering in Amsterdam, I got thinking about the wisdom I’ve acquired in the course of my travels around Europe. Why not share that wisdom?, I mused. So here are a whole bunch of tips that you’re not likely to get from your guidebook; advice from the street, as it were, on saving some money and making the most of your time in strange new worlds.

Buy your food at supermarkets. Make your own breakfast and sandwiches, and cook in your hotel/hostel’s guest kitchen if they provide one; you’ll save massive amounts of cash compared with eating out every day. If your shopping or cooking options are limited, fast food is an alternative - with moderation it’s not too bad for you, and is a reasonably cheap fix. And - needless to say - if your hotel/hostel gives you inclusive meals, make sure to take advantage!

Go to authentic restaurants occasionally. No, that’s not a contradiction. Use the money you save in supermarkets and at your hotel/hostel to treat yourself to restaurant meals. Eat local delicacies and national styles - they are likely to be much tastier and various than their equivalent back home.

Don’t buy crap from souvenir shops. It’s nice that you want to take a small memory away with you, but it’s worth it to look a little harder for something more meaningful than “I heart NY”. Markets - flea markets in particular - are great places to find curiosities, and you’ll be supporting local commerce instead of just throwing money at exploitative tat that’s Made In Taiwan.

Always carry a map... though do feel prepared to go off-route. Not knowing what you’re going to find adds a delicious mystery to your explorations, but feeling truly lost in a strange place is no fun at all.

Avoid guided tours... There’s nothing you can’t learn about a city with a decent guidebook and some amount of curiosity.

...but don’t bury your nose in a guidebook. It’s helpful, and usually interesting, to have that background to the area, but keep your eyes up and your ears open, and

Stay on your feet. Try to avoid using public transport whenever possible. The human mind wasn’t designed to process information faster than at walking speed - you’ll notice much more around you at a slower pace, and you’ll later recollect these things much more vividly than your guidebook text can express.

Avoid queues wherever possible. Unless that museum or gallery is truly fascinating to you, it’s not so important that you should wait an hour to get in. If possible, buy tickets in advance that let you walk right in - otherwise, forget about it and spend that time doing something fun instead.

Keep moving. If you feel like you’ve seen everything, or just want a change of scenery, listen to your feet and go somewhere else - whether that’s just to a different district or to another country entirely. Don’t be impatient, but don’t feel forced to stay in one place just to check off key attractions.

Rest. Moving around all the time can be exhausting, both physically and mentally. Feel free now and then to put your feet up for a bit and take some time to reflect; you’re not in a hurry, are you?

Don’t carry a massive camera. Unless you are specifically employed as a travel photographer, your photos don’t need to be perfect; those thirty seconds per shot add up, and you’ll get on everyone’s nerves (especially in a crowd or with a group). If you see something you want to remember, just take a snapshot with a pocket camera - when you look back through your photo album, your mind will do most of the work anyway.

Don’t carry everything. Travelling light gives you freedom of movement. Weather takes a turn for the worse while you’re out? Just duck into the nearest shelter and enjoy the company of whatever other poor sods you’re stuck with. You can’t be prepared for every eventuality anyway.

Maintain an open mind. Again, travel light; leave preconceptions, morals, inhibitions and emotional baggage at home. Seeing new places and meeting new people can have a transformative effect on your perspective, and perhaps teach you some things about yourself too, but only if you’re prepared to be challenged by the unfamiliar.

Befriend fellow travellers. Whether you’re on the move or already settled in your hostel, start conversations and share yourself with the (usually) like minded folk around you, and they’ll share alike. If you get on really well, they just might offer you a place to stay if you’re ever in their area. (Similarly, prefer hostels with shared/common areas; they provide a neutral and convenient location to gather and meet others.)

Befriend locals and hostel staff. They can show you local culture and demonstrate a native perspective that you won’t find anywhere else. Also, go to a local pub in the evening - everyone there will be loosened up and receptive, and perhaps even pleased (or simply amused) to meet a foreigner.

Carry a deck of playing cards. They are a great way to endear yourself to travellers and locals alike, particularly if a language barrier proves to be an obstruction. Teach card games from home, and pick up some more from others - almost everyone knows a game or two that you may not.

There’s nothing wrong with booking ahead. A puristic traveller might tell you to keep your options open - to live in the moment and remain confident that things will work out. But visiting a strange place can be scary enough in itself already, and wanting somewhere safe to stay is totally natural. Don’t over-plan and tie yourself into a strict itinerary, but do find a balance you’re personally comfortable with between forward planning and freedom to act on impulse.

Finally, and most importantly, feel free to disregard any of the above advice at any time for any reason. I offer friendly advice and broadly suggest you stay safe, but every experience is completely unique and totally relative, and I am in no position to decide what is right for you or anyone else to do. As long as you embrace the opportunities that come your way, you’ll do just fine.

Have fun out there - and don’t forget to share your stories with others - everyone else is looking for the same thing you are!

 

May 8

Amsterdam 3: Queen's Day

Saturday 30th April: Queen’s Day, and my last day in Amsterdam, my flight home at 9 that night. The plan was to leave my bag in a station locker and pass the day in much the same way as I had done for most of the week - smoking a lot and just taking in the sights. I figured this would be a good approach on this day in particular, as Queen’s Day is the day in the national calendar where every citizen is free to sell anything they like on the street, tax-free - transforming the whole of Amsterdam into a free-for-all market. I was curious as to the general mood with all public transport stopped and huge crowds taking up every available space everywhere that there is space to be filled.

It didn’t quite work out like that. I walked all the way to the station from my hostel to discover that the locker area was inaccessible. According to the notice, security was so thinly spread on Queen’s Day that there was no staff left to watch over the lockers. As if I was going to walk all the way back to my hostel to ask them to store my bag... they surely would have agreed to, I believed, but it was such a long walk and I didn’t fancy having to make that trip - on foot - up to six times in the day. I’d already been on my feet up to twelve hours a day all week, and I was paying for it; my poor choice of packed footwear had increasingly limited my ability to walk, and by Queen’s Day I’d been forced to buy flip-flops just so my toes weren’t killing each other.

So, I had to carry my rucksack. I decided not to dwell: despite my compromised position, it felt important to enjoy the day best as I could, and I quickly mapped a route around the Jewish Quarter (away from the huge crowds in more central areas), stopping for food at Esnoga. Though I took my time browsing the once-only street markets and made my lunch last as long as I could, the walk didn’t take as long as I meant it to, I decided to revisit Siberië on Brouwersgracht, over in the Jordaan, where I thought I’d be able to have a quiet smoke and pass what was left of the day. I actually had a wibderfyk afternoon smoking and playing chess as the crowds rocked on outside; the atmosphere was very festive, and yet relaxed - just everyone from families and couples to groups of lads to pensioners sharing in the sense of welcoming, of positive human spirit... if there was any hedonistic element, it was crushed by the overwhelming optimism, the burst of excess gezellig saved up since the last Queen’s Day. Who would have thought that something so arbitrary as a birthday would have such uniting power? Royal Wedding be damned - the Dutch actually care about this, and it shows.

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What a day to leave - with the spirit of Amsterdam in full swing I truly regretted having to wave goodbye - to a city as exciting as it was the first day I arrived, a city which shows you its heart right away, but still has its little surprises. Amsterdam feels real - is real - and if you have the time to get to know it, instead of just passing out while your mates are visiting hookers, then do so. It’s very rewarding to treat Amsterdam as a friend and to feel treated as a friend in return.

Other parts:

May 8

Amsterdam 2: more photos

More photos from the last batch; I'm having to split these posts into three parts because Posterous doesn't let me upload over 100mb per post!

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May 8

Amsterdam, Zwolle and somewhere outside Ommen

Saturday 23rd April. I stepped out of Amsterdam Centraal Station to find myself part of a massive crowd of people flowing towards and from all directions, a half-visible skyline in the distance of lovely old buildings with unfortunate logos stuck to their top edges (the bottom half of said skyline not being obscured by temporary walls around Stationsplein, it undergoing renovation). Three too many cigarettes later I was on a tram with Dandy Kong to his house, admiring the concentric canals of the Grachtengordel as they teased in and out of view by turns, each still a mystery to this first-time visitor. (Dandy Kong, for elucidation, is the online pseudonym of the kind fellow that offered me a spare bedroom just the day before I flew. I have thanked him plenty in person, but allow me to thank him again right here.)

On arrival, having been awake since 5.30am and on the move for six hours - yeah, okay, including timezone shift - the first thing I wanted to do was to put my feet up in Dandy’s garden and pass the afternoon in conversation; this we did, setting the trend for the rest of the day. I embarked on a short walk in the evening to buy tobacco for the week, taking some photos along the way, though being in a slightly far-out residential district I wasn’t really seeing the heart of Amsterdam - which was totally fine, no hurry like. Later, I enjoyed a barbecue with Dandy and his boyfriend, and our conversation dipped into our jobs, other internet people we’d met (mostly on my part), television, politics, body modification, the nature of love... it was very nice. Twenty too many cigarettes later, I went to bed.

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The next day I woke up with mild asthma, ate breakfast with Dandy, showered and shaved, and left fairly early on the tram to start exploring the city proper. I had a hostel lined up already on Nieuwe Nieuwestraat, so dropped off my bag there and immediately set out to taste Amsterdam on a sleepy Sunday mid-morning. With no particular idea of where I wanted to go, I headed south through Damrak and along Kalverstraat to the Singel, the innermost of Amsterdam’s canals — and from there I kinda got lost and just wandered for a few hours. The general quiet lent to my walk a sense of anticipation for the week ahead.

My stroll included, in the evening, a route through the Red Light District - quite pretty, particularly in the day, but frankly it wasn’t as seedy in itself as I had hoped. This probably has something to do with the relatively recent closing of a quarter of prostitute windows and their re-designation as low-rent showcases for artists and designers. Fair enough, I thought; I wasn’t really interested in the nice ladies’ offerings or sex shows anyway, or more truthfully I a) couldn’t afford them in the first place and b) would have felt incredibly seedy, being a lone traveller. (Disclaimer: that’s totally a personal thing I’m not comfortable with, not any kind of judgment at all. I’m not a moralist!)

I’ll get on with the photos already. These were taken throughout the day and generally focus on the Grachtengordel and outer areas of the city centre. (There are lots more photos from these areas later on, too - I took over 400 photos and have narrowed them down to half that...)

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Day three: Monday. Woke up, usual routine, and packed my bag; originally I meant to spend the day in Amsterdam, but after breakfast decided on a whim to use the time to see Zwolle instead, since I would be back in two days anyway.

I reached Zwolle by 10.30am and wandered around for a bit. I saw the occasional local sweeping through its sleepy streets, otherwise it seemed something of a ghost town. It clicked after a few hours that I’d arrived on a bank holiday, and the town wasn’t likely to burst into life until late afternoon. So I spent most of the day wandering - taking my time - carrying my rucksack as the station lockers wouldn’t accept my card - and capturing some nice, quiet scenes. Eventually I got a bit bored, but that was me; I’m sure I couldn’t have got enough of the place on a ‘normal’ day.

In the evening I took another train to Dalfsen and was picked up by Hilda, who drove me out to a bungalow park outside Ommen. I shouldn’t have been surprised to discover that she lived in the country - it was befitting of her, or at least the way I remembered her. We had a barbecue and a catch-up, chatted awhile about the nature of travel, some beer, went to bed; the next day I spent the afternoon exploring the immediate vicinity, and then by bicycle Hilda shared with me a few sights in the broader area, and I got some exercise. It was all very rural and very pretty, and it was nice to see a different side of Holland, a side I wasn’t expecting or looking for.

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Back in Amsterdam the day after, I went to my second hostel, where I was going to be staying for the rest of the week. Located to the south - just off Leidseplein - I had a quite convenient base from which to launch towards further-out areas of Amsterdam, Vondelpark in particular.

Generally, and this is a trend across the entire week, I ignored the major sights. My approach to discovering Amsterdam was to just pack my dope and feel everything through my eyes and feet... it’s a vibrant city, and with a receptive mindset there is a huge amount to take in at every turn. Unfortunately, that makes it hard to pinpoint anything specific to write about: my experience of Amsterdam was largely circumstantial and emotive. Of particular note, I think, were the markets - Waterlooplein near the Stadhuis, and the Albert Cuypmarkt in De Pijp - and the Artis Zoo, which was just lovely. But I think my photos can speak for themselves, and hopefully provide a sense of what there is to discover there (at whatever level you like).

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