Sep 2005

Fashion, Fondue, Fromage, fine wine and flirtatious Frenchmen, oui, oui, I've finally arrived in Paris after 5 hours journey by train from Neustadt. It was rather amusing to note that as soon as we crossed the border into France, the public announcements in the train also changed language accordingly.. I half expected a french soldier to show up with a box of typical french clothing for us to change into as well (you know...buret and thin and skin tight stripe shirt for the boys and 3/4 coats and knee length chic skirts for the girls).

As I walked outside, I was half expecting one of the city's familiar landmark, like the Eiffel Tower or the Arc dé Triumphe to appear before me. Instead, a sight of total traffic chaos greeted me. Vechiles, old and new were emitting black fumes thick enough to smokescreen the low rise old renaissance period buildings nearby. If I thought I was going to hear an accordian music accompanying someone singing a french folk song, I would instead have to make do with all the hoots and toots of the busy Wednesday evening traffic in the city. It is weird (and scary) to see 4 lane traffic in the middle of the city without any road lines separating them. It is nothing short of a miracle that there weren't any accidents from the way cars, motorbikes and pedestrians zigzagged, overtook, cut across one another in heading home from work. I know its a paradox but it was like orderly chaos or something. I remarked as such to Raphy (my badminton french correspondent....yes, from that same geeky badminton website if you must know...) when he picked me up. He gave me a "ahhh, c'est la vie" kinda smile and said "I wonder what you will make of the round-about at the Arc dé Triumphe then"...started to open my mouth to ask and thought better of it...

Raphy (short for Raphael) is a reporter who also runs a french badminton news website. He and his wife have kindly offered to put me up at their spare apartment which so happen to be just across from their own one, so that's handy. Hah! I laugh at the Flying Escargot or whatever the French's backpacker equivallent is. My apartment is located about 15mins subway train ride away from Paris central. As someone who has never been on a subway train before and would be doing so for the first time in a country she has never been in and who do not speak its language, I think it can be classified as a death wish.. Anyway, had a test run that evening when I followed Raphy into town for his badminton practice. It wasn't so bad once you get the hang of it..

Was also keen to practice my French which I studied for one year at University. So started with the usual 'bonjour' and 'bon soir' to the subway ticket seller but he could probably tell from my desperation to sound French that I was but a tourist and he gave me a polite smile before casually muttered in English, 'good evening to you too miss'. Zut!!

29th September

Did a bit of research in the morning as to where to start the sightseeing. Even this in itself was a bit of a mission as there's simply so many things to see! Raphy was working but another French badminton correspondent, Ming offered to meet up and show me around. So took the sub into the city and had a walkaround. In general, you see a good mix of local French ppl and those from Seneagal, North Africa or Morroco. Almost all of them are as you expect in the fashion capital of the world, very well dressed, chic and sophisticated for the adults, and trendy, street style cool for the 'lil adults'.

Like Amsterdam and Neustadt, people here I noticed light up quite a bit, not so much in subway trains, but certainly on the streets and in restaurants /cafés. Talking of which, it's interesting how you can see a café, clothing or shoe store like every 2nd or 3rd shop but you can't hardly see other types of outlets, including a Vodafone store. Also, I noticed there's a few McDonalds but no KFC in sight, which I found to be rather odd.

I've also discovered that in France, there are certain advantages of being a woman. Most French women are nice to you because of the shopping mecca sisterhood ("ohmygawd, where zid you get zhose pair of zelicious shoes?") and as for the men....charming and definitely flirt alert material ladies! Observe: I got lost trying to find Ming's restaurant where I was suppose to meet him and so I asked this taxi driver who happened to be standing outside his taxi, for directions. He said "oh madammoiselle, let me take you there for it would ze such great injustice to zee such a beautiful girl like yourself unhappy because you are lost" Smooooooth.. After realising he wasn't going to take no for an answer, I relented (he was harmless, just flirtatious). I insisted on paying when he dropped me off and he refused saying "ahh madamoiselle, you've already overpaid me with your smile", and without skipping a beat, I replied, "where's my change then?"

Anyway, since Ming has a car and we agreed it would be pointless for him to show me just the inner city as I could walk around for that, he decided to take me to the Versailles, the former Imperial residence to the French monarch. Our drive there was quite pleasant. While it was a cloudy day with the sun breaking through once a while, it was certainly warm. We drove past Champ Elyseé and then on to the motorway before arriving in the outskirts of Paris, less chaos, but still same style of old buildings, smoky air and stylish locals, that was until we pulled over at the entrance to the Versailles, the japanese tourist 'army' were disembarking from the 8 tourist buses, all armed with their favourite weapons of choice, an umbrella and the latest digital camera Japanese yen can buy! Ming took a look at the tourists and said how lucky I was that it's the low season. Upon noticing my disbelief expression, he went on to explain how he once had to queue for more than 3 hours just to get a ticket during the summer months and there were at least 20 busses around then. Have to remind myself I'm not in Kansas anymore, this is Oz!!

Ming advised I would need at least 3 hours, at which point I almost choked on my mint..you're kidding right, 3 hours for one area? He shook his head, pushed me out of the car and drove off. Upon approaching this gigantic palace, I began to take Ming's estimation seriously. The humongous palace is divided into the King's state apartment (more like a castle than an apartment!), the Queen's, the Hall of Mirrors, the Hall of Battles, servant quarters and the Donach (name given to the heir to the throne)'s apartment. To give you and indication of the size of this palace, the King's apartment for example consist of his bed chamber, his drawing room, throne room, dining room, drawing & music room, 8 living rooms named after the Roman Gods and Goddesses, a ballroom and his guardroom. Each size of the room is probably on average, 200 square metres. Now, times that by 3 and you just covered the living quarters for the royals. The interior of the palace can be summed up in two words - Excessive Opulence! Once you have toured through the many gold gilded rooms with renaissance paintings on its ceilings and hand crafted oriental and greek furnitures, you began to understand why the Revolution took place! I took many photos but unfortunately, since I'm only allowed 10mb disc space per month for my pics on this website, I have to limit the number of photos. Don't worry, any photos you don't see here has been saved onto a CD disc.

As I was heading into the last room in the palace, the magnificent Hall of Mirrors, the state ballroom filled with mirrors and crystal chandaliers (trying to picture Louis the XIV dancing to "stayin alive"), my cellphone rang and it was Ming saying the 3 hours were up and whether I was ready to go, already???!!! I haven't even been to the garden yet? Not wanting to hold him up, I said I'd have a quick look at the garden before we go and whether he could give me an extra 20mins or so. His response was a really loud guffaw of laughter. He wisely said that I would need at least an hour for a 'quick look' and I was like, how long does one need to appreciate a garden? Sheesh. Once again, he said he will ring again in an hour and hung up.

Still smarting from the conversation and marching decisively towards the garden, I was muttering to myself thinking Ming probably thought I needed more time because he expected me to be walking slowly and underestimating my fitness. I entered into the garden and thought, yeah...ahah! Just as I thought...no worries to see everything in 20 mins. So I proceeded to walk around leisurely even, taking pictures and then I spotted a fountain and walked towards it to have a closer look when lo and behold! Standing at the end of the fountain and looking down, I saw this...

Garden my ass! Pardon my french..but this is no garden?! it's another country! Ok,ok, exaggeration but at least an estate. Basically from the palace right to the end of the 'grand canal' is a 60 minutes walk! I didn't walk all the way but walked a fair way. The Estate was covered with manicured lawns, purple and pink bougan-villas, lines and lines of well cut hedges tastefully broken only by life size sculptures of Greek and Roman heroes and heroines and to complete this mix of landscape masterpiece and grandeur are the fountains, ranging from the simplistic small round shaped ones to the more sophisticated well designed oval shaped ones. In one, there was a bronze and jade sculpture of several warriors on carriages drawn by the winged horses, poseidons emerging from the waters, half out of the water, half submerged, very impressive.

View of the palace taken in front of one of the fountains.

When Ming rang, I sounded abashed in asking for another 30 mins which he understandably and happily obliged. I was surprised to find that I was truly exhausted by the time we drove off living behind the massive and vast estate of Versailles. Ming then asked, where next? It was only 5pm after all and I wasn't sure so I left it to him to surprise me. He drove back into the city and along the way, we drove through the 'tunnel' where Princess Di crashed her car and died years ago. Before we even arrived, I knew straight away where we were heading. How could I not notice the enchanting and enormously imposing Eiffel Tower looming in front of me. Ming dropped me outside Palais de Chaillot, which is located across the river from the Tower. This place is apparently the best place to take pictures of the Tower. It's funny how prior to getting there, I've told myself I wouldn't be trigger happy with the camera when I see the Tower or any of the other famous landmarks in Paris because we see it so often on TV and those travel shows, surely it was not going to look any different in real life? Boy...talking about being wrong, which I'm beginning to see happened a lot for me since I've been in Paris. It is hard to explain the sense of humility and awe I experienced when coming face to face with this infamous monument. The clouds had cleared, the sun's evening rays bathing over the entire scene of the Sien river, its calm water glistening like jewels, its beauty undeniably dwarved by the stunning and breathtaking sight of the tower, standing erect and proud against the backdrop of a cerulean blue sky....priceless indeed! Ok, 15 shots of the Tower later...(I know, I know..weak!) I slowly joined the queue with the others to go up to the 1st stage of the Tower. There's 3 stage. While I only paid for the 1st stage, I was happy to discover that you could save that extra 3 euros by climbing the stairs to the 2nd stage (instead of catching the lift). My mom had trained me well... As there aren't that many high rise buildings in Paris, the entire city was visible from the viewing platform either on the 1st or 2nd stage. Here you get the 360° view of the city in its entire magnificence! I could see the Arc de Triumphe, the Notre Dame, the course of the Sien river and the mini bronze model of the Statue of Liberty located by the bank of the river. After an hour or so of walking around and the effect of walking all day at the Versailles and climbing the 356 steps from 1st to 2nd stage of the Tower, I was ready to collapse in exhaustion.

Walked most of the way back to the centre of the city before catching the sub back. Had a bit of a mini drama as I forgot the name of the metro station where I was suppose to get off. After getting off 2 wrong stations, I finally and thankfully managed to find my way back to my apartment for a well deserved rest. Tomorrow, I will be dedicating the entire day to the Louvre, le museum extraordinaire. Can't wait....

Voilà!!

25 September

After drinking lots of water in the hope of warding off the threatening hangover headache, Mark and I headed off towards the hilly Hambach area on our way to Hohe Log, a lovely walking track with chestnut forest that leads up to a nice restaurant at the top of the 623m hill where Mark's father was working. We were going to try the local Neustadt specialty cuisine, leberknödel and sauerkraut which translates to Liver dumpling and pickled cabbage respectively. So as you can probably forgive me, I wasn't exactly looking forward to this cullinery adventure with springs in my steps.

So Mark's friend, Christian played chaffeur of the day and took us to a certain point along the way and then we walked the rest. The trip was mostly uphil on a gradual ascent with beautiful chestnut trees right and left and ocassionally, you see other visitors but it wasn't crowded. I was able to draw in a lungful of fresh clean air for a change and it was delightful being entertained by Mark and Christian's stories of Germans, their childhood antics, their voices often interrupted by the cheerful cacophony of callings from the dwellers of the forest.

Then, we went to Hambacher Schloss (castle) where on 27th May 1832, the first demostration for unity freedom and democracy in Germany took place. After a super quick look around, we had to go to another friend of Mark's place, who was also called Christian. This Christian was taking us to a Germany's top division badminton game in a nearby town. I know I'm suppose to be here in Germany sightseeing, but hey, I also love badminton so why not. It was a good afternoon and I must say that the skill at that level in Germany is quite comparable to that of NZ's top division.

The walking track on the way to Hohe Log

From left, yours truly, Mark and Christian

Hambacher Schloss

Adelina came, saw and conquered Hambacher Schloss *roar*

26th September

Mark and Tanja had to work as it's now Monday. I decided to take this opportunity to visit the information centre and be a real tourist for a change. Armed with my camera and phrase book, I located the centre easily and sighing with relief that the people working there do speak English, I quickly collected a series of tourist pamphlets, albeit most of them in German. It is interesting to note that although one would expect tourists visiting Germany would not be able to speak German and accordingly, one would think the pamphlets would be in English, but that would be too easy, wouldn't it? Anyhow, thankgoodness maps and pictures know no language barriers and soon I found my slight annoyance with this fading away with the early morning clouds. Walking around the small town noting various beautiful attractions, made more beautiful in the sunny light was simply delightful. The highlight was seeing The Stiftskirche, Neustadt's main landmark which is an old church, consisting of two unequal sandstone steeples towering over the town for more than 500 years now. The 57 step church's tower is also the home of Germany's biggest bell made of cast iron, one of the many spared during World War II. Oh, the time flew when one's having such a good time and before long, it was time to go home again as I was playing badminton with Mark in the evening. Here are some of the wonderful photos taken on that day.

A narrow 'gossen' (small street) heading towards the town square.

Tudor style cafes and shops located at the town square, also known as the Markt.

The stunning Stiftskirtche, piece de resistance of this small town, located in the heart of the Markt.

27th September

Tanja had a day off and suggested perhaps we catch the 20 minute train to the nearby town of Speyer (sher-pa-yer). Lots to see and do in one of Germany's oldest town, established in 3 B.C by the Romans! Upon arrival, we first trotted off to Altpörtel (the Main City Gate), one of the highest and most important city gates in Germany. Lower sections were constructed between 1230 to 1250 and the top floor and the tower (all 154 steps to the top, I counted!) with its late-gothic balustrade and the arcades were added in 1512 to 1514. Tanja and I took some pictures at the top and also of the view of the city from the tower.

The Main City Gate from the outside

Pic of me taken at the very top of tower, at the background is the main attraction, Cathederal of Speyer.

Who's that poser??! More view of the city in the background, the rightful attraction!

Impromptu pics of Tanja, me and the wind!

Next,we headed off excitedly towards the main attraction, Dom zu Speyer (Cathedral of Speyer), the most impressive and stunning building I've had the privilege to see so far in Germany. It was found in 1030 under Emperor Conrad II. The crypt located in the cellar of the cathedral was well preserved and containing the tombs of 8 German emperors and kings, four queens and several bishops. Check out these photos!

View of the front of the cathedral and the nearby building.

Getting closer...

About to enter through the front door when Tanja got a call from work!

Few of the many tombs of the kings/emperors down in the crypt.

Walls of the Cathedral adorned with beautiful renaissance paintings of life of Christ.

View of the eastern wall of the cathedral with a nice pagoda of the 12 apostles.

Tanja and me to give you an indication on the size of the cathedral.

After ooh-ing and aahh-ing at the cathedral, Tanja and I decided to have lunch to recharge before tackling the local museum. We dined at a local cafe in the centre of town and Tanja ordered the saumagen, another local German cuisine, made out of meat, potatoes and finely chopped parsleys and other herbs and spices which are then cooked in 'pig's stomache' (thus the german name of the dish) but Tanja assured me that the pig's stomache only acted as a vessel for the food cooked inside. It looks and taste like burger patties. Couldn't think of a better way to wash down the delicious food with the 'new wine'. It's a wonder I'm not more sloshed than usual given how easy it is to drink the wine here. Here's an interesting anedote. Every taxi in Germany is a Mercedez. I mean surely, just because it's a German made brand, you don't think every taxi driver would drive one? You Porche owners can let go of your breath as I have yet to see their prestige eroded in such manner.

Once our physical hunger and thirst have been appeased, we realised our minds were equally famished for facts and history of this wonderful town.So we enthusiastically made our way to the Historic Museum of the Palatinate, built between 1907 to 1910. Inside, we learnt of the town's birth through Roman establishment, and its growth as a wine central and a favourite resting place during the winter for its rulers of the past.

The secrets of the land can be found here!

Just as knowledge was food for our mind, the Rhine river we knew would quench our optical thirst for natural aesthetic beauty. As you can see from the picture below, it is indeed a sight to behold, the remarkable Rhine that stretches from Switzerland, right through Germany and all the way to Amsterdam. Nearby from the river is the Sea Life Aquatic Centre giving Tanja and I a glimpse of what would be under the Rhine, fishes, sting rays, sea horses but we didn't find Nemo unfortunately.

Bridge over the Rhine.

Although Nemo was no where to be seen, meanwhile, who says Germans don't have a sense of humour?

By the end of the marine tour, we were quite happy to make our way back to Neustadt, but not before we got some ice cream from Tanja's favourite local ice cream parlour and 'onion bread' from the local bakery, apparently the perfect compliment to the 'new wine'. Luckily I had badminton again that evening with Mark to ensure my waist line don't get any funny ideas.

Germany, or rather, this part of Germany I've had the pleasure of sampling has indeed been that extra more special as a result of living with and experiencing it through the eyes of two of its locals, Mark and Tanja. I am forever grateful to both of them for the kindness, patience, hospitality and readiness in which they have welcomed me not only to their town and their own home, but also into their hearts. I believe I have found two more friends for life. Danke et Ich libe dich!

From Neustadt with Love...

AO rating: New wine, new discoveries, new and everlasting friends.

I gather it would take some time before I come to grip with the fact that it may only be an hour's flight from Amsterdam to Hamburg (and even less still to other countries within Europe), the fact is, all these flights are still classified as international flights, hence requiring the standard 2 hours before departure time checking in. I can see most of my friends back home reading this would by this stage start shaking their heads and think that they know what's coming.

Despite having past statistic going against my favour, I'm happy to actually announce that despite checking in about 40 mins before the departure of my flight, I actually made it thankyouverymuch!

I was not stopping in Hamburg however as through my many international business connection overseas (sounds better than saying from a geeky badminton website), I was only passing Hamburg on my way to Germany's wine region, Neustadt Weinstraße where Mark and Tanja live. Lucky for me, my visit coincides with their wine tasting festival and also Tanja's visit to Heidelberg, one of Germany's more famous region (aka tourist mecca). I must say despite warnings from my trusty Lonely Planet guide book regarding how Europeans differ so much in terms of personalities and customs based on their countries of origin, I certainly was still taken aback by how much this is the case. While most Dutch people speak fluent English and often on first point of contact, they would start a conversation with you in English, the more serious and proud Germans will address you in their native tongue first and upon receiving blank puzzled looks from you, they would then kindly switch to English, often much to your relief!

It was the problem with communication that saw my stress level suddenly shooting up at warp speed after 2 days of the leisurely pace and life in Amsterdam. It was with much difficulty before I managed to find a bus that would take me from the airport to the central train station in Hamburg. The next mission arrived when I had to explain to the ticket seller at the train station as to where I was heading. Neustadt means 'new city' and besides Neustadt Weinstraßen, there's all these other Neudstadts in the wine region which meant I had to say the full name of this place. After trying very much to get the right pronounciation and intonation right, spitting at the poor woman behind the ticket counter in the process, I wrote it down instead and much to both myself and the lady's relief, she nodded happily and issued me with my ticket, showing the train leaving from Platform 13.

Checked the time when I got to Platform 13, ahh, with 10 minutes to spare, excellent. Feeling relaxed for the first time, I began to look forward to my train ride and texted Mark to advise that I would depart at 18:30 (Germans tell time in 24 hour system) and arrive at 23:30. When the train finally arrived, I had trouble finding the wagen (car) number. After a few minutes of panic, decided to harass the impatient looking conductor who quicky waved me out of the train with a dismissive 'nein,nein, wrong train, nein!' I got off and went to ask what looked like the station staff (with red buret that made them looked more like first aid officers than train station staff). I was then informed that apparently, 5 mins before the train arrived, it was announced (only in German of course) that my train has switched from platform 13 to 14 and the train had just left, he said smiling at me, obviously not paying attention to my hissing and murderous looks I threw him. I was told to get my ticket changed to the next train (the last one for the day). So had to march back up several long stairs and dragging my backpack which was getting heavier by the seconds, all the way back to the ticket counter to get a new ticket. This time I was informed that the train will be on Platform 14. Got there and waited but this time, I was 'slightly' more cautious, checking every 3 minutes with the red buret rodents, err I mean station officers on whether there has been any more change in platforms. In fact, 2 minutes before the train arrived, that was what took place, another change, my train now arriving at Platform 13. This time thankgoodness I asked and was able to finally get on the right train. The rest of the trip remained uneventful which of course was a welcomed change.

Arrived in Neudstad at 12:50am and was so grateful to get off the train and meet Mark and Tanja for the first time. Within the first 5 mins of meeting Mark, I had to readjust my impressions of Germans as the serious and quiet type. Mark has more energy and life than the Energizer bunny, more so than even Steve Irwin (perhaps Mark got it from him when he and Tanja went to Australia for 3 months in a cycling tour). Tanja is more quiet and shy, also beautiful and sweet, with a welcoming smile that quickly put me at ease and my reservations of intruding on their lives at rest.They live in a very lovely one bedroom flat about 5 minutes walk from the town centre. We retired early as we were all tired and that night, I slept like a baby for the first time since my trip, perhaps partly due to exhaustion and jet lag, but partly also due to not sharing a dorminatory with 5 other party-crazy 'flying pigs' in Amsterdam.

23rd September

Mark took me into their local township for a quick look around of reasonably famous buildings, restaurants and the fountain full of lil statues of Elwedritsche-brunnen, these rather strange imaginary creatures that has a body of a chicken but with human heads and body parts. It is customary during wine harvest season for locals to have a party during the night where they bring bags and a special 'shiny' bait to try and lure and capture these creatures that are rumoured to be hiding between the grape trees. One group of the party will be walking down from one end of the vineyard,carrying lanterns and making loud noises to trap and move the creatures going towards the other end of the vineyard where another group of the party are waiting with the big bag 'trap' containing the shiny items to lure these elwedritsche-brunnens. Of course, the outcome#s always the same where everyone will boast later about this most mangificent and special brunnens that somehow 'got away'.

The Enchanting Elwedritsche-brunnen

A bit of background info. Neustadt is a wine town with nine neighbouring wine villages (about 5,000 acres of vine area) surrounding it and together, they are a home to a population of 56,000 people. It looks over the fertile valley of the Rhine (river) from an elevation of about 100-200 metres above sea level. The oldest town records date back to 1245 with the foundation stone for the first building in the town being laid in 1368. Of course I had to research this information myself no thanks to Mark and Tanja's "we live here all our lives, but don't ask us the history".

The locals were just starting to get ready for the wine tasting festival that was to start in a few days. It was really warm and balmy as we walk around and saying 'tag (g'day) or morgen (morning)' to the friendly locals. We had to cut our tour short to go meet Tanja who would be taking me to Heidelberg, which was about an hour's train ride away. This town by the Neckar River boasts of the infamous magnificent castle, Heidelberg Schloss built in the 12th century but never got finished and parts of the castle were constantly destroyed either in battles or due to poor building structure. Took some great pics, had an ice cream and then went back to Neudstadt to go watch Mark play badminton in a local league.

The garden located within the castle

View of one of the castle walls

View from another 'destroyed' portion of the castle wall

Views of the Neckar River from the castle's highest point

24 September

This was a nice lazy day for us. Spent a bit more time to get to know Mark and Tanja. Mark's currently studying towards his Electrical Engineering diploma and Tanja brings home the bacon working as a database administrator for a big beauty/healthcare store. Mark and I then went into the local town to see what the weekend Market has to offer. I offered to cook Mark and Tanja my famous Malaysian curry and so we went to the only local chinese grocery store to get the ingredients and for some reason, I tried hard not to crack up laughing seeing a Chinese guy speak German..hard to explain but really funny!
It's like watching a german dubbed kung fu movie or something.

The market was busy that morning with people getting their local fresh produce and stopping to chat with friends over a cup of coffee at the nearby cafe, very relaxing atmosphere indeed. Mark then explained to me the difference between Kiwis/Australian customer service vs Germany's. Basically, vendors in Germany don't always believe that customer's always right, in fact, they often go out of their way to make you feel like you're begging or being a nuisance for wanting something from them, this is more apparent within the civil service like in post office due to the state owned services of the past.

In the evening, Mark and I had a quick game of badminton before he played in another local league. I was cheering him on when I kept getting strange looks from the other people there. Mark later explained another German etiquette to me. Apparently, these are reserved people who don't like showing too many emotions and they frown upon others that do and in fact, cheering on your team mates in a sports context may be regarded as being rude and uncalled for, go figure...

Later that night (Saturday night), we all went out to the Market again to sample the "neu wien" of this year's harvest. There were all sorts but my favourites are two; the first was rather a sweet concoction that taste like any ordinary grape juice, so easy to drink, but whoa, underestimate its alcoholic potency at your own peril ladies and gentlemen. I was gigglish by the third or fourth sip. The other favourite was called Rieslingschorle which has 2/3 of Riesling wine and 1/3 of sparkling mineral water so it taste like a 'diet wine' and the bubbliness gave it that champange taste. It was a good night as being perhaps the sole Asian girl there, I was a favourite target for drunken marriage proposals and before you start having a cow mom, no, I didn't accept any......yet!

Since being here, I've been trying to learn a bit of German but I must say it's a language that is not catered for the short asian tongues. Each time I have to pronounce the words, it's always accompanied by spits and I often felt like I was trying hard to spew my guts out to get the gutteral sound right. Some of the words I've learnt so far:

1. Riesling miesling (german slang for drink up man and no worries)
2. Papa slumpch (Papa smurf and I refuse to divulge how this came about!)
3. Böser mann / frau (bad man / woman)
4. Tschüs (informal goodbye)
5. Briefmarke nach Neuseeland (A stamp to NZ)
6. Ich liebe dich (The 3 words feared by most men..I love you, surprisingly, though, many of them seemed to forget this fear on the wine tasting night)

Part Two to follow....

About 10 minutes before we landed at the Schipol International Airport, the sight of the beautiful Amsterdam (pronounced: Am-I-really-there,damn! ~the I-really is sillent) was indeed a welcoming balm to a weary traveller's sore and groggy sight. The wide and flat land of the windmills covered by a thick blanket of dark cloudless early morning skies carrying with it a promise of a beautiful day. I can see this is a city that never sleeps from the many sporadic speckles of city lights, flickering below, oddly enough, they give a sense of urban tranquility not expected from a busy European port and party capital.

After clearing the customs (surprisingly quickly and easily, no evil fat men with greasy moustaches with rubber gloves in sight), I gracefully and efficiently purchased my train ticket heading downtown. Ok,ok, you know me too well. I literally stumbled my way through it, almost buying the wrong ticket and leaving my Lonely Planet guidebook behind at the ticket counter. Thank goodness at least they all speak good English, ja!

The train sation at Amsterdam Centraal was a hustle and bustle of human activities, I mean after all, it was 6am already! Thought this was suppose to be laidback society?!! Anyway, trying unsuccessfully to blend in with the crowd (perhaps walking with such a large backpack that made me look like a human turtle may have something to do with my failure to remain inconspicuous), I made my way out of the station and after a few false turns and cursing, I managed to find the Flying Pigs Backpackers. Had to wait until 8:30am before they would allow me to check in. Luckilly, they had a storage place for my 'turtle shell'which I happily dislodged and began to...sit on the computer (free internet provided at this place, excellent, more money to spend on my museum tours). Well, what else was I to do so early in the morning, no respectable museum will open at this time, believe me, I checked!

I checked in soon after into a mix dorm with 5 other ppl. I was warned not to go into the room until after the official check out time for last night's visitors at 10:30, unless of course I wanted to be greeted by 5 drunkenly asleep men wearing nothing except smiles on their faces, gee, what to do, what to do..backpack getting sooo heavy :P

(Backpacker located on a narrow street)

Anyway, armed with the backpacker's cheesy guide to discovering Amsterdam (already made a few discoveries in Amsterdam myself *cough*), I ventured out like a girl on her first day at school, excited but also scared of the unknown..

Foreign would be one word I would use to describe my intial impression of this canal weaven city. As you will see from the pictures I have taken, the architecture, city infra sturecture, sights and scenes that are so alien to what we are used to seeing in New Zealand. From the tall and narrow brick buildings, many built even before NZ was discovered, right to the millions of bicycles of all shapes, sizes and colour, you are filled with a sense of awe of the foreigness of it all. Kinda expected, but not to the extent as I have imagined.

In my short walk around the city, what I saw is a historical city with its small, narrow but hecticly busy streets, houses and buildings strategically located along the many canals and efficient trams (not like the old fashion ones we get in Chch, but more modern mini-bullet train looking ones). The people are mostly walking or cycling, just as we are outnumbered by our more wooly friends back home, the bicycles similarly outnumber the motorised vehicles here! The road system's very cyclist friendly, sometimes on one side of the street, you have two cycling lanes sandwiching a car lane. Of course it's also odd that everyone drives on the *wrong* side of the road! Although also full of pedestrian and cyclist crossings, the traffic law must be reasonably relaxed around here. So if you're crossing the road on a pedestrian crossing, don't automatically assume that you won't get run over!

(One of the many canals in the city)

(Beurs Van Berlage ~ old stock exchange building)

(A narrow street in residential Amsterdam, see the interesting window design?)

(Paleis [palace] located at the famous Dam Square)

Surprisingly after my walk, I felt quite refreshed depsite the jet lag. So much so, I decided to go for a run to the "nearby" Vondel park (kind of like what Auckland domain or Hagley Park is to us). Ok, mental note, when a dutch tells you anything is nearby, bear in mind that these people cycle and walk everywhere and so, a 45 minutes walk to the Park is considered nearby. It didn't help when you've never been to the city before and constantly having to stop your run to ask for directions. The park itself is very impressive as you will see in the photos. The pictures although speak more eloquently than I can write to describe their beauty, nevertheless, fair to say even the pictures do not do justice to the real thing. It is hard to feel anything but impressed by the serenity and charm of this Park, the tired legs soon forgotten.

A visit to Amsterdam will be incomplete without taking one of the boat tours through some of its popular canals. So together with a big group of Chinese tourists, we set off to explore Amsterdam by water, bathed in the evening sun. My facination of the city deepened as the city's history and tall tales were slowly narrated to us by a voice recording tour guide, in 5 different languages, very entertaining. From the photos I took, you will see the kind of boats we were in and the views that greeted us as we glide over the water.

(Some of the houses by the canal, very cool aye?

I have taken for granted how smokefree NZ is until I got here. I'm not just talking about pot smoke either. Almost everybody smokes here. It is actually a rare nasal delight when you can discover fresh clean air while walking outside. This perhaps would be my only disatisfaction with the city. Then again, I suppose this is all part and parcel of visiting a foreign land, the views and indeed the smell will be foreign. As there's many and I mean many small eateries, you also constantly get a whiff of fresh baking, coffee, cheese and Argentinian angus beef steak (saw 12 such restaurants in one day - ok, possibly I would have seen the same on 3 times during my many wrong turns..but still).

On the 2nd day, I went for a nice breakfast. Thought I would easily find cooked breakfasts but surprisingly, this was not to be. Main breakfast food there are like cereals or toast but mainly if you eat outside, often its fresh baked bread and other baking delights like croissants etc.

Went for more walks during the day including visits to the more subdued small residential area called Jordan where you can see more of the real Dutch life and less of the postcard picture type sceneries. It is so easy in this city to walk, walk and do more walking as unlike NZ where most attractions are spread out, here, they are all within walking distance to one another.

Visited the famous Reijkmuseum which features history of Netherlands and also paintings by many of its famous artists like Rembradt and Van Gogh (the latter having his own museum dedicated in his honour).

On my 3rd and last day in Amsterdam, I rented a bike from the "Yellow Bike" company and toured the outskirts of the city, trying very hard to remember cycling on the right hand side and not left! Wearing shorts helped to distract many motorists, mostly males surprisingly, leaving them stunned quick enough for me to escape from either being hit by them for being on the wrong lane or from being yelled at for going too slow. Visited the beautiful Vondel park, a nice botanical garden with lakes and an old museum located inside the park. Also managed to take one picture of a windmill, what tourist will I be if I don't at least get one picture of the windmill!

Amsterdam I have come to discover, can be pronounced in several ways depending on what the city means to you. Let's see, there's Damselham (window display of all sorts of meat, some a bit stale, and some smoked). Then there's And-where,WHAM!(And that is what happened when you don't constantly look out for cyclists coming at you from all direction!). And finally, there's also the Am-stoned,man! Think that's self explanatory :P

I will be rating each place I visit in Europe so for this one, AO's rating: Lots of enchanting, surprising sights and scenes, full of dangerous (yet exciting for many) deeds involving pot,pleasure and pedalling. So, we advise discretion.

The end of the Slazenger Cup tournament (Division 2 badminton tournament between provinces in NZ) came quite quickly and suddenly I found myself having to shift into 5th gear in getting ready for the big trip with only 2 days to pack. The entire week leading up to the departure was already a stress level factor 10 not only because of the tournament, but due to the passport almost not making it in time arriving from being sent to Wellington for renewal at the Malaysian embassy.

Packed till 2am on the morning of my flight, constantly filled with that common fear everyone has during this time.. "Have I forgotten something and if I have, what is THAT something?!!" As a result of the stress leading up to this trip, the fact that I've quit my job (2 years as a lawyer in Auckland) to pursue a long lifetime dream of gallivanting all over Europe did not exactly dawn upon me until I finally strapped myself in and took a deep breath thankful for not being the last person on the plane (ok, 3rd last, but who was counting!). It wasn't my fault, it was custom, truly!

The flight to Singapore lasted 11 hours and I was conscious about every minute of it dragging ever so slowly by. I read, watched a few movies, do the things you normally do on a plane and sighed heck of a lot. It was great when we finally got to Singapore...but alas, that was only half the journey. After being in transit for 3 hours, we were off again on a separate flight to Amsterdam. 12 painful hours later and after failing to try and adjust to the European time zone, I finally arrived in Amsterdam, groggy, grumpy but also eternally grateful that the long uneventful part of the travel was at least over and the exciting part of my journey is about to begin... an ending before a beginning...

[Saying goodbyes to family and friends]