it was the best of days, it was the worst of days....

hallo!

i am writing to you from cold, rainy Arnhem, where I am warm and happy to be in one piece. i have a little story to tell, so settle back in your chairs and i shall commence explaining how yesterday was one of the longest days of my young (but now much older) life.

so my dutch tour began on tuesday...i left castiglion, hopped a train to rome, hopped another train to the airport, loitered there for three hours, spent too much money on books, hopped on a plane, and at long last i arrived in amsterdam. I got my bags (no small feat, as collectively they weigh what I do - seriously) and I headed to the trains (electric green upholstery, very entertaining). arrived at the train station and walked out into a brightly lit evening (daylight here is over around 10 pm). after waiting for a while under a sign that i thought was for Tram 4, I realized I was in the wrong place. I asked directions and crossed the plaza to the other set of tracks. I found a nice looking gentleman in a suit and asked him if this was where Tram 4 stopped. He smiled and pointed at the 5 tracks in the nearby area and said that it could stop at any one of those - you just had to keep an eye out. I laughed and said, "well, that's rather exciting, isn't it?" He smiled that wry smile again and said, ït would be more exciting if"the tram actually came." I liked the Dutch already.

After successfully taking on the strippenkaart (the Dutch bus/tram ticket), I made my way to the Keizersgracht canal and to the apartment of one lovely Anne-Marie, who I met on couchsurfing.com. For those of you unfamiliar with that service, it's pretty freaking cool - a community of travelers, independently verified by other members (as to their normalness), who travel from place to place availing themselves of free couches (and offering up their own in exchange). It's kind of the coolest thing ever. During the course of our conversations, I discovered that AM had been an exchange student in Nacogdoches, TX, about half an hour from where my grandma lives in East Texas. It's a crazy small world we live in, folks. She even had Kinky Friedman books on her shelves.

I woke Wednesday morning in AM's sun-filled apartment on the canal and thus began the best of days. I found a scrumdiddlyumptious pastry shop and a fine cappuccino for breakfast, along with a strawberry muffin thingie, and I was on my way. First stop - the remarkable Van Gogh museum. Next - the Rikjsmuseum (The Masterpieces), home of many fine works by Rembrandt and Vermeer. Next - the Nieuwekerk (New Church). Stop for yummy salami/brie sandwich. Next - OudeKerk (the Old Church), built in 1306 and currently housing an amazing photography exhibit called World Press Photo. It's an annual photo-journalism competition and I passed an hour with some of the most striking (lovely and horrible) photos I have ever seen. It was so captivating that I nearly forgot to notice my surroundings (the 700-yr old church was no slouch itself). So after a morning of museums and lots of walking, I hurried back to AM's apartment, stopping for a cinnamon sugar croissant and a cranberry basil juice (whoa), and I grabbed my bags and headed for the train. I had a show yesterday evening in Amersfoort and I wanted to get there early so I wouldn't be stressed. Mwa ha ha ha ha....

And this is where it became the worst of days. I made it to Amersfoort more or less without difficulty, although schlepping that damn backpack and guitar around is not easy. I cursed my wimpy little frame on numerous occasions. My plan was this - because I was sleeping in Arnhem (not Amersfoort) after the show, I wanted to check my backpack and head to the show with only gig bag and guitar in tow, picking up in the backpack again as I headed out of town. But after much searching, I found the luggage lockers, only to discover that they only accepted Dutch credit cards. That is all. No cash, change, or begging. Sighly heavily, I resigned myself to my load and went to the bus stop outside of the train station, where I was completely baffled by the schedule. After asking around, I managed to get on the right bus, but I missed my stop - it was the very first one, and the only one "in town" - all the others were in suburban Amersfoort, and I spent half an hour looking at bleak little Dutch homes and watching the sky grow black.

Arriving back at the train/bus station (argh), I got off the bus, waited again, and got on the right one. Got off the bus, found the venue, started to feel a bit better. I explained to the owner that I had to catch the last train out of Amersfoort in order to make it to my hostel in Arnhem and he agreed to let me play first, though I was supposed to be the "headliner." Went in search of food. Everything quick had closed at 7 pm, and blast if it wasn't 7:05 pm. Finally I found a nice man serving falafel, and we chatted in extremely broken English while he lamented about how hard life must be for me, always traveling in strange cities. It was kind of funny because that morning I would have told him he was crazy, but around 6 pm I would have agreed with him whole-heartedly. At that moment, I was on the fence.

Fast-forward to the show. I played with Alex Akela, a Dutch bassist/violinist who was kind enough to find me many shows and offered to accompany me on some of them. We had never played a note together until we got on stage (a bit stressful in and of itself) but it went really well. The audience was extremely kind and attentive and they even laughed at my stupid jokes. The only bummer was that I had to haul ass out of there as soon as the show was finished so that I could catch my train. I didn't get a chance to chat with the many people who came up to me - sorry!!!

So I packed up like lightning, listening to the other band - www.myspace.com/sabinemusic - they are very good - and I headed for the door - and found it was raining. ARGH. I was told a taxi was out of the question (pricey) and OF COURSE I didn't have an umbrella, so I draped my parka over myself and my big backpack, and Alex did the same with my smaller gig bag, and we hoofed it to the station in the rain. I didn't even change my clothes, and my leather mary janes are not shoes made for hoofing-it. We arrived and saw that the train was 15 minutes late, so I thought I would change back into my Converse for the rest of the journey - only to find I had LEFT THEM AT THE VENUE. ARGH. DOUBLE ARGH. Luckily Alex was heading back there later that evening and said he would grab them for me - we play together tomorrow. But in the meantime, I am in wet shoes that have given me two large blisters, and I'm pretty cold and wet, AND my train is late, which is endangering my connection in Utrecht that I have to make to get to Arnhem. And did I mention that I was hungry? I had some peanut M&Ms from the vending machine.

Alex got me on the train - God bless Alex - and I got myself off it, just making my connection to Arnhem (which was luckily late itself). In Arnhem at long last - at 1 am in the morning, mind you - I caught a taxi, having just missed the last bus to the hostel. That 3 kilometer ride cost me 17 euro but at that point I would have paid 50 just to be out of the rain and in a horizontal position with the damn backpack off my aching back.

I stumbled 100% weary into the hostel, where I found a very kind lass behind the counter who informed me that I had my own room (hallelujah) but that they had no reservation for me for the following day. This was very very bad news. But she assured me that they would work it out, and she sent me off to bed, where I promptly collapsed. And they did work it out, and I have my same bed this evening, and I think I will head to it very, very early tonight.

And that is more or less the story of the longest day, my first in the Netherlands. I am happy to report that all is well that ends well, and I slept very soundly and dryly.
happy weekend to you, i will report soon on shows in Arnhem and Groningen.
little dutch kisses,
vanessa