life on planetm

the boullibaise of religion

Sonia’s style is exclusively focused on the trees so trying to find the forest a bit of an intellectual puzzle.  I know there were a bunch of Pharoahs from different dynasties, the Greeks and Romans (Alexander, Cleopatra and the gang) messed things up and the Hixus (sp?) were an evil mob from the Middle East.

It’s complicated when you are confronted with one of the oldest, most complex civilizations of all time.  One of my big takeaways so far is the impact of religion on Egyptian society.  That fact really hit home this morning when Sonia said the Greeks have no religion.

I think what she meant was that they were pagans.  They had whole bunch of gods, one for everything, if I have my primary school education correct.  Their gods were pretty glamorous but kind of mean – The Real Housewives of Olympus…  I guess religion means one god – even if it seems a lot of people get killed every day trying to sort out exactly who he is.  It’s like The Dating Game and there are three mystery suitors.  You ask some inane questions and then decide it’s god number 1, 2, or 3 that seems like the best prospect.

Last night I had an interesting discussion on comparative religion with a family from Chicago.  The punch line of the conversation is that the children are named Rachel and Noah – but they didn’t seem to be very pious 🙂

The Chicago family are my favourite people on the trip.  I also have a fondness for Suzanne and Chuck.  They are all from Chicago… what that means I am not sure.  I would venture perhaps the answer is that they are interesting and cosmopolitan yet down to earth.  Some of the others seem a bit inexperienced with the world and I feel a bit nervous I might state an opinion that will get me in trouble.  Despite the crap state of their economy and the humbling effect you might expect that to have, most of the Californians seem a bit haughty.

As expected, it’s the Egyptians that I enjoy the most.  They are warm, gracious and charming.  Everyone noticed today that I wasn’t at breakfast.  And Tito was worried he had done something wrong cause I didn’t say “hi” yesterday but I didn’t know his special spot by the obelisk when he wasn’t in his shop.

I think we were talking about religion… believe me, I am no expert on religion in Egypt at this stage.  I gather it started with the Pharaohs who mostly worshipped the sun.  They discovered that many of their systems and beliefs were very similar to the early Christians so they embraced Christianity at an early stage.  Then there were the conquerors from other Arab states and from Greece and Rome so it got all mixed up.  It wasn’t said out loud but I think “deface” came from the habit of one of the groups to scratch out of the faces of the previous groups.  The Pharaohs each have a kartouch – and they would wipe out the kartouch of the original guy and overwrite their own.

It’s fascinating but there is so much writing on the wall in most of the tombs and temples we have been to that it is very challenging to figure out what is going on.  Today we went to Edfu Temple.  It’s for the falcon god.  I’m not quite sure what he was god of but there were a lot of falcons so I got some photos – and could at least recognize some of the stuff on the walls.  Edfu was fairly recently discovered buried in sand and is very well preserved.  The carvings are incredible.

I think the praying to the falcon god is from the religion of the Pharoahs.  Yesterday we were to Luxor Temple and there was a church and a mosque on the same property.  We were even in the right time to hear to call to prayer.  But not everyone was headed for the entrance to the mosque.  It’s a fascinating country – religion has always played a key role in society – but the religion of choice – and the mix of religions has always been changing with the shifting of the sands in the desert we get to experience every day.

the imagery of life

Right now I am sitting in chaise lounge on a luxury boat floating gently along the Nile sipping guava juice brought to me by a super cute Egyptian guy with a killer smile named Allah.  Not an image I would have expected in my childhood as being part of my adult life.  I am not big on mystical self-help theories… and I think it would be boring to visualize what you want and then have it come to you like clock-work.  It is much more fun to hop on a plane having barely read the itinerary and wake up every day to some unexpected adventures and delights.

It is now day 4 of our official touring activities. Days 2 and 3 were packed like one of my regular 13 hour work days so there has been no time to write about anything that I have seen or experienced.  The overall feeling has been one of being pampered.  I am not as well looked after as I was in Tanzania but it is a close second.  What has been most enjoyable is meeting certain staff members and establishing a bond so I am not just some random tourist.

Back in Cairo it was Emad at the bar.  I couldn’t understand 100% of what he was saying but he was so charming and gracious it didn’t matter.  Here on board the ship I have Mohammed, who has taken the role of my personal server.  I get the best Chardonnay (there are 3 choices) and he makes sure I am looked after at every turn.  I will have to purchase something from Tito (a nickname) before I leave the boat.  He runs the shop and has the same charm I encountered in Turkey.  These Middle Eastern guys really give the Italians a run for the money 🙂  Everyone keeps trying to plan my NEXT trip to Egypt!

So… what have I been doing besides flirting with gorgeous Egyptian guys you ask?  Well, I saw the Pyramids!  So, one childhood goal ticked off.  I was a little worried they might not live up to the imagery of my childhood dreams.  But when you see them close up, they are astonishing.  Apparently it was religious fervour that built them.  Egypt’s history is so long, rich and complex and I am approaching it in such a haphazard way that I won’t be able to enlighten you much.  I definitely need to read up when I get home so that I can put all the astonishing things I have seen into context.

Right now I only have a few basic facts.  There was an Upper Egypt and a Lower Egypt and originally they had separate Pharoahs but there was a joining of kingdoms under one Pharaoh for a while, which was Egypt’s golden age.  I think Ramses II was a really important Pharoah.  But they were a whole bunch of Ramses – and they had a ton of wives so I think one of them had 200 children!  I should likely be paying more attention to Sonia instead of wandering off trying to get better photos.

It’s not that I don’t enjoy listening to her and learning about Egypt.  It’s just that there are 23 of us and usually a few other tour groups as well so getting a photo that looks like I am in Egypt alone is a challenge – and wandering away from the herd and trying different settings on my camera and playing with the light the best way to get a photo the rest of you might want to see.

And Sonia is Mediterranean.  I really like her – but the instructions are kind of vague and the timetable far more flexible than she seems to think.  Yesterday we were at the Temple of Karnak.  You may have heard of it.  I definitely had.  But all these things are just random names.  I don’t know any details.  But apparently the “Hypostyle Hall” in the Temple of Karnak is an incredible forest of giant pillars, covering an area larger than the whole of Notre Dame Cathedral.

So far everywhere that we have been is astonishing.  Hypostyle Hall was incredible but we were there midday, not a photographer’s delight.  I WAS listening for quite a while but so was everyone else and it was hard to get a photo without a bunch of random heads in it.  So I got obsessed with trying to get the right photo and figured it would be easy to catch up to the group.

I spied a couple of other people from our team also taking photos so figured it was fine… but then I looked up and they were gone.  Earlier Sonia had stressed we had to leave by 11:35 and it was pretty close to that so naively I thought if I wandered out the temple to the entry point I would catch up with the group.  Having been abandoned in Pompeii some years ago, I knew it was possible.  But it didn’t seem A&K’s style.

But I believed Sonia’s timetable so thought they must be ahead of me, not behind.  So I was running through the midday sun in the desert (it was about 43 degrees!), fighting off aggressive merchants and hoping I remembered the way back to the bus (it was a long, circuitous route).  I arrived at the bus unscathed at the time we supposedly had to leave for the boat.  But I was the only one there!

I realized this might be a bad thing – and Sonia might be looking for me back at the temple.  I asked the driver to call her and tell her I was on the bus.  He assured me he would.  Then I waited… and waited… I asked him to call her 4x – and by time 3 I brought her contact sheet from the A&K info (with her photo :)) and my phone and gestured what to do as I was pretty sure he didn’t speak English and was just agreeing with me without understanding what I had said.  I did eventually get him to call her but he just said she wasn’t answering her phone.  And wouldn’t call again.

It all seemed pretty silly to me.  I gather a search party had been organized – and I think I messed up the schedule a bit.  BUT if we had BEEN on schedule, it would all have been fine.  And why wouldn’t you train the guide to call the bus FIRST – or the bus driver to call the guide when some random passenger showed up early?  The difference between Africa and North America…

At least I think my photos are pretty good and once I have proper internet access I will post them so you can see if you agree 🙂  More African adventures to come…

living like a pharaoh – or Mubarak…

I have arrived in Egypt!  And I am living in a palace!  It looked like a palace… and then I finally read the tour info.  And, yes, a getaway spot for Empress Eugenie.  The world is a pretty mixed up place.  You see these places from the past built for monarchs and you really wonder how someone could think that was even remotely fair. 

I feel a little guilty and displaced in a setting like this.  I can see the Pyramids from my room!!!  But you just have to be yourself and treat everyone respectfully and you can be part of the economic development of the developing world.  It’s all about jobs.  When people have jobs, they have a life.  So while it feels a little evil living like a princess, there are a lot of staff here and I expect this is a good job if you live in Egypt.  I still remember standing with Alex at the Ngorongoro Crater as he was chatting with friends and he stressed how they had a good life cause they had jobs.

I spent the afternoon photographing like mad so there will be photos too once I upload some.

I arrived around 2am.  I usually try NOT to arrive in developing countries in the middle of the night but apparently it is the norm for flights from Europe to Cairo.  I am booked on a tour with Abercrombie & Kent.  It really pays to spend the big bucks when you are going to a developing country for the first time.  I knew I needed a visa and figured I would have to sort it out on my own but my guy found me immediately, I slipped him 15 euros very quickly, we moved to a different line – and we had cleared customs in no time.

That’s when I saw Mubarak’s house… my god, these Africa dictators are a piece of work.  It looked like a palace too.  Arriving in the dead of night in Cairo actually has its benefits I discovered!  Normally the traffic is a nightmare (this is a city of 25 million people, the third largest in the world apparently) but at 3am you can drive through the city.  So I got the free “Cairo by night” tour.  It was fascinating.  Lit up mosques like in Istanbul – but many were modern, not ancient.  Lots of incredible old architecture.  Buildings from the 12^th century. And lines of vehicles. And people milling about.  The 24 hour shops.  People stumbling out of nightblubs.  At 3am Cairo is alive! 

It is not the Africa that I know.  It’s very modern.  There are poor areas for sure but it is such a different arrival to Arusha last year.  And now I am in my gilded cage 🙂  I am not sure how much of the real Egypt I will get to see but the concept for this trip is old Egypt in its glory days – and I think that is assured.

As I type this I am waiting for my dinner reservation at one of the best Indian restaurants in Cairo apparently.  The hotel group who owns this property is based in India so I am assuming the intel is likely accurate.  While I wait I am listening to amazing classical music in a bar that comes from a completely different century.  Most people look like grubby tourists but I think my carefully chosen Egypt wardrobe fits in really well.  And the new dress I bought at Esprit really does work in the heat – and was a great bargain.  They closed all the Esprit stores in Canada before I got to use my $27 credit so I was on the lookout for an Esprit store in Amsterdam – and it worked!

I spent the afternoon roaming the property and snapping photos.  I saw a little bit of Islamic architecture in Spain and in Istanbul but mostly it’s new.  First I tried to capture the grandeur of the palace and the amazing shadows created by the elaborate lighting fixtures and the low lighting.  Then I went outside and played with the reflections in the pool.  One of the gardeners was keen to take photos of me so I have a bunch of tourist photos I don’t normally get.  Once I get the photos up, you will see me in front of the Pyramids! 🙂  Everybody is eager to help.  There are golf carts to take you around the property.  You have to make a point of stressing you would like to walk!

Back from dinner now… listening to BBC World News and talk of the Arab Spring.  Means more being here.  Ricardo from A&K organized for me to have dinner with some Americans who are also part of my tour so it was a lot more fun than anticipated.  Dinner was good – but I am so spoiled coming from Vancouver.  It’s no Vij’s 😉

The bar was more fun… although very quiet since it is Friday night.  But this is not exactly the real world.  I did establish a connection with one of the bartenders though so we had a lively discussion about what it means to be Coptic, why they built the Pyramids and the role of religion in society among other topics… my life is never dull… so no need to liven up the trip by hitting Tahrir Square.  Today is protest day and Egypt isn’t in the news so apparently things will be pretty tame.  My first day in Egypt has been wonderful.  The people are quite formal but really warm and excited to have me here – exactly what I expected 😉

Internet in Africa is wildly expensive so I will try my best to keep writing the posts but they may appear in groups as I decide to buy a little internet time…

glory days

Perhaps Bruce Springsteen had to settle for a boring middle age when his glory days were back in high school but I seem to be creating my glory days in middle age – and even able to recreate recent glory.

Again we must time travel back a few days – to when I actually scribbled this in an old-fashioned notebook…

As I write this “catch up” post I am sitting in a local brasserie I found on my Wolford shop scouting mission on P.C. (the real name is Pieter Cornelius Hoofstraat – you can understand the diminutive – but made my map a bit useless so I just went with my memories and I found it).  It’s  dinner time, just prepping for tomorrow, so also spied this place.  The menu came without a translation and everyone is speaking Dutch.  Very cool…  A 25 euro menu.  Tomato soup to die for.  Argentinian steak cooked to a perfect medium with great flavour.  Even some veggies!  Excellent wine.  A real discovery…

The period since the last post was rediscovery.  Last year I was in Amsterdam en route to Tanzania since you could fly directly from Shiphol to Kilimanjaro and avoid a trip to Dar es Salaam.  I had planned the trip to find the optimal blend between work not being too crazy and – fingers crossed – arriving in the middle of “the migration” when the zebras and wildebeests move from the southern Serengeti into the Masi Mara is one of those top ten National Geographic moments.

Since the timing was decided with an eye to migrating wild animals, not playoff Canucks, I arrived in Amsterdam just as the Canucks were about to play game 5 of the Stanley Cup final.

The Olympics had brought back all my fond memories of watching Hockey Night in Canada with my dad.  Ironically back then I had a mad schoolgirl crush on Bobby Orr and my team was the Boston Bruins.  I didn’t live in a city and the NHL was at least 90% Canadian so you were cheering for Canada no matter the team name.

I had happened to be having dinner in a sports bar the night the Canucks went into the Stanley Cup playoffs so I decided I would commit to watching them.  As many of you know, they made it to game 7 of the Stanley Cup Final so it proved to be a major commitment.

I watched game 5 and 6 in Amsterdam, starting at 2am!  And managed to at least listen to game 7 on CBC Radio in the middle of a coffee plantation in Arusha, Tanzania.  Another story for later.  The bottom line – I put more effort into WATCHING that game than the Canucks put into PLAYING it!

But game 5 was special.  I’d done some research pre-arrival.  And I met some other hockey mad Canadian at my hotel who was going to another location.  I had already confirmed with my location just after the plane landed that I could watch an ice hockey game that didn’t start until 2am and not get kicked out at 4am when the bars close.

My option was in the Red Light District, a part of Amsterdam I had always avoided, so I checked out the other option first.  Apparently some lame Canucks fans had promised to stay until the end and make it worth the bar’s effort but when they were losing they had reneged on the deal so it didn’t sound promising I would see the end of the game.

And fate has a way of working but… It started pouring rain so I took a taxi to the youth hostel with the sports bar attached.  It was dead – and almost creepy.  So I confirmed the arrangements.  I couldn’t leave after 2am and get back in but as long as I was in by then all was good.

At that stage it was a bit late for dinner but not hopeless.  I found a street that looked lively but would be easy to find my way back for the hockey game.

Most of the bars were full by then so the concept of a seat at the bar for dinner was impossibility.  I finally got to the end of the street.  I spied some empty seats at the bar so went in hopefully…  But the bartender told me I was sitting beside the chef so it looked like I would be channeling the Germans and pretending “beer is food” 🙂

Martin (the chef) and Peter were lively conversationalists and Stefan (the bartender) held his own so I finally left for my hockey game with a plan to come back the next night so I could have a personal escort to some cool whisky bar in the Leidseplein instead of going alone with my map drawn on a napkin.

It’s way more fun to hang out in a bar where you know the bartender so I showed up a bit early the next night, content to just wait for Peter to finish his shift and show me the whisky bar.

The evening started on a quiet note.  Then I spotted some guy coming up from the toilets sporting a cowboy hat with an arrow through it.  In Amsterdam, you just shrug it off… but shortly after a group of guys in cowboy hats came to order drinks.  And when they spoke it all got a little surreal – SCOTTISH COWBOYS???  Hard to ignore…

And they were equally interested in me.  I soon felt like I was a bewildered gazelle surrounded by hungry lions but it certainly made “waiting for Peter” a lot more entertaining than I was planning on.

There were at least 15 of them.  It was obvious they were a tight knit gang.  One of their favourite hobbies seemed to be taking the piss out of each other.  It was like watching a free improv comedy team.  I was the “straight girl”.  I could have ignored them – but engaging with them was far more entertaining.  Apparently they leave their wives at home and come to Amsterdam once a year to “bond”.  Each year they have a theme – so that year they were cowboys.  The previous year they had been “colours”, each dressed in a different rainbow hue.  They showed me the photos on their iphones.

They were quite determined I should go dancing with them and abandon my whisky date with Peter.  The idea that I was sitting in a bar waiting for some guy I barely knew was fuel for their comedy act that was irresistible.  They were obviously behind the times up there in Scotland cause they started composing the personals ad that I must have placed to be in this situation.

It was Saturday night so Peter was very busy.  The pressure from the cowboys to abandon Peter and come dancing with them just kept escalating…  They started asking everyone who passed us on their way to the bathroom if their name was Peter.  Needless to say, both people’s reactions and the cowboys’ commentary were keeping Stefan and I highly entertained.

In an effort to increase support for their point of view they started polling people in the bar as to whether I should wait for Peter or go with them.  I held to my commitment – even if the Austrians thought I was wrong 🙂

By the time Peter finally arrived he was a celebrity.  The crowd cheered.  He was crowned with a cowboy hat.  The cowboys have him the “thumbs up”.  No casual effort to drink some whisky had ever begun with such fanfare.

I knew I would never duplicate the cowboy experience but I decided I should drop by just in case anyone remembered me.  At first it didn’t look hopeful.  There was a new guy (Tony) behind the bar.  But he was friendly and it was freezing outside so a beer before my commute back to the ‘burbs seemed a good plan.

Then I saw Peter walk in to get a bottle of wine.  He didn’t seem to recognize me but he wasn’t exactly expecting me to be sitting at the bar.  I decided to be bold and send a message via another guy standing behind the bar who confirmed he worked there.  Apparently at the same time Peter was in the kitchen trying to figure out why I looked familiar… but being a redhead helps!

First Peter came to say “hi” and pour me another beer.  Then Martin sat down to chat.  Peter finished a bit later.  And the past was repeated with great success.  Amsterdam felt like a place where I was reconnecting with old friends.  Proving you CAN relive your glory days.  And have a delicious free lamb early dinner the next day, courtesy of Martin! 🙂

finding my tribe

sorry, I am still playing catch up so pretend it’s May 5th 🙂

I am hiding in a pub that apparently has 70 different beers on offer, partly to avoid Heineken, but mostly to escape from the cold.  Apparently it is still winter in Amsterdam and my suitcase is packed for Egypt!

This has made my usual habit of wandering the canals late at night in a short skirt and heels sound like a lot less fun than normal so I am going to spend a much less decadent Saturday night than originally planned.

That’s not to say no fun is being had.  It really pays to read the airline in flight magazine.  That’s how I knew May 5^th was special in Amsterdam and I should be on the lookout for “Go Back to the Zoo”.

This morning was a write-off – cause last night turned out to be a lot more fun than expected.  Since this is my fifth trip to Amsterdam, I decided to be a bit adventurous and stay at a hotel called CitizenM.  In this case, the M is for mobile.  The hotel is very modern and highly entertaining.  For example, on my room key – citizenM says: travel light but carry a big smile.  My travel motto summed up!

The interior design is both functional and witty.  Wi-fi is free everywhere and simple to use.  There is a 24 hr canteen/bar and hotel staff are called “global ambassadors”.  The price is good (<C$200).  The only drawback – I am living in the ‘burbs.  But the goal this trip was to try and see Amsterdam like a local rather than a tourist.  (The other drawback – people keep chatting to me while I try to type my blog posts in the canteen – why it is taking so long!)

And apparently one can have fun in the ‘burbs 🙂  Last night I was freezing and a little under-dressed (less than in the afternoon when I left the hotel dressed for spring and was worried I’d end up with frostbite!) so went over to the train station but saw a lively bar so thought I would start there and see where things went.

Travel always offers the opportunity for memorable moments.  Just after I arrived, everything got very quiet and serious.  All the talking was in Dutch so the “why” was unclear but just stood quiet and still like everyone else.  Based on today’s research re: May 5^th I think it was the two minutes of silence for Remembrance.  May 4, 1945 was the day the Germans surrendered and Holland was liberated.  So May 4^th is the Day of Remembrance.  In the evening there are two minutes of silence and then the “Liberation Party” begins and lasts through May 5^th.

So yet again I stumbled into a great day to arrive in a foreign city!  Had the weather cooperated I would be partying in Dam Square until 11pm but my Egyptian wardrobe just can’t cut it.

It hasn’t been as exciting as normal.  Next time I’ll be staying on the canals.  But last night provided enough excitement for two days.  I figured if I got bored I would sort out how to take the train into the city…  But boredom and Amsterdam just don’t seem to be a mix… Fortified by an excellent chicken satay in the lounge area (these people did colonise Indonesia after all :)), I wandered into the bar proper.

There was a DJ and the music was really great.  He even played “Walk Like an Egyptian”.  I had to smile.  And smiling in bars can change the course of the night.

The first change not so great.  I am pretty sure he was Polish because he kept including Poland in all his references… not sure if he is representative but he definitely needs to work on his bar skills.  It was loud and he was yelling into my ear so much that it literally began to hurt so I had to end it as politely as I could manage.

The adventures with Dutch guys were far more pleasant.  I revived the tradition of tipping Dutch bartenders.  (Apparently the Dutch are very cheap so the equivalent of C$1 will have the bartender blowing you kisses).

Going to the bathroom can also prove entertaining.  Not my first bathroom story 🙂  Generally the toilets in Amsterdam are always at the top of a narrow, wildly steep staircase (a deterrent to drunkenness I think 😉 When I was heading down from the bathroom last night, I saw two guys coming up hugging both stair rails so waiting at the top seemed a good plan.

The first guy was hauled up the final steps by the attendant.  His friend seemed more sober – until he kissed me!  I don’t really know the details as his explanation was in Dutch but being kissed unexpectedly by a cute Dutchman definitely a bit of an ego boost 🙂

I was happy to just listen to music and dance a little in my own space but some very tall Dutch guy decided I was lonely and that I needed to be dancing and brought me into the circle with his friends.  At one point we decided I wasn’t tall enough so he picked me up off the floor to put me on the same level with Dutch people.  A tad disconcerting but does make for a lively night.  The night ended with me trying to get out the door and encountering problems.  The cute Dutch guy on the other side just taunted me.  I finally got out and he showed me the easier exit.  But I was laughing and smiling through it all so he told me he loved me and gave me a thumbs up.

One would think that would be enough.  But then I went down to the canteen to try and put my blog on-line and met Altin, an articulate and entertaining guy from Nepal… and somehow it was 3am before I got to my room.

Between jetlag and such a late night, my body wasn’t sure this morning whether to be asleep or awake.  Nevertheless, I managed to get the train to Centraal Station – and the Amsterdam I know.  Centraal Station and the Hotel Prinz Hendrik a big part of Amsterdam 2011…

Found my way to Dam Square without a map, just in time for “Go Back to the Zoo”.  Would have loved to spend the whole day watching bands for free but it’s just too cold.

It’s now official – the Dutch are my favourite national group 🙂 It’s like they are a mix of the best from the Germans, the Scandinavians and the Latins.  They are efficient and get stuff done.  They are a small country so don’t take themselves too seriously and have a sense of humour.  They are oozing with charm and love to drink and party into the wee hours.

And only in Amsterdam do you see a group sporting gold glitter cowboy hats, some random witches and a parade of girls all dressed in bizarre gear making their way through Dam Square – the vixen with the stuffed leopard got my attention 😉

Amsterdam is a special place.  Unique like the Dutch.  The French might have coined “joie de vivre” but the Dutch teach you what it means…

You might not fall for the guy but that doesn’t mean you won’t fall in love with his city…

We are playing catch up tonight.  I have been in Amsterdam for a few days and have been writing stuff for the blog – but sitting in coffee shops or bars writing long hand so now I have to type it up!  A little time travel will be required… back to May 4^th…

I just woke up from my nap and am out exploring Amsterdam.  Another of my favourite cities.  It may even have toppled New York and Paris to become my fave.  But cities are like children.  Each brings something different to the mix and you can love them all equally – but for different reasons.

Amsterdam is playful.  It’s a youngest child 🙂  It’s stylish.  It’s gorgeous.  It’s entertaining.  This is my fifth visit so I have my routine.  Apparently once I start riding a bike everywhere I will be officially Dutch.  Paris and New York have their routines too.  Each city has a different focus.

Here I spend my days overdosing on culture and architecture – the past and the future are equally celebrated, a pretty mean feat 🙂  In late afternoon I nap… because one of the most brilliant aspects of Amsterdam is the nightlife.  I have always enjoyed dancing so on visit #3 I was determined to go dancing.  That’s when I discovered you can dance til 4am but no one is there until about 1am – hence the nap 😉

I think I may have already mentioned my first trip to Amsterdam.  I was too poor to day in Amsterdam proper but it was in Haarlem, the town I was staying in to commute each day to the tourist sites of Amsterdam, that I found out the Berlin Wall had fallen.

Because I wasn’t able to stay in Amsterdam proper and Scott was lame and we never did nightlife, I never really “saw” Amsterdam on my first visit.  But I wanted to go back someday…

In 2007 I took my mom and niece to Europe.  They each got to pick a city.  My niece chose Paris without hesitation.  My mom thought about it for a while and decided on Amsterdam.  Canadian troops liberated the Netherlands in the Second World War so, as I had discovered on my first visit, for people of her generation there was this wonderful link between the countries.  I understand tomorrow is the anniversary of the liberation so could be an interesting day.

Coming back to Amsterdam almost 20 years later reacquainted me with its charms but it still remained a place I had already “done” so a third solo visit (a first) became part of the future travel planning – but without a date attached.

And then I met Engelbert in a bar in New York City.  One of those random encounters with a stranger.  It was January and freezing outside so the hotel bar seemed as far as I was willing to venture – and I had two free drink tickets!

I had just arrived, jetlagged and exhausted from my work schedule as usual so the plan was one drink and an early night.  But then this handsome European guy sporting cufflinks asked if the incredibly young bartender dressed like wench #3 from the set of Pirates of the Caribbean had made my Caipriñha correctly.

A bonding moment for people of the reading glass set 😉  It turned out Engelbert had a big thing for Caipriñhas… and when I guessed his accent as Dutch or Flemish, I scored a lot of brownie points 🙂

The hotel bar consisted mostly of us so by the time we got to round two I had gone upstairs for my coat, he had spoken with the concierge regarding bars in the neighborhood that stayed open late and we were off to an Irish pub…

When it closed, we found another.  The bartender seemed to like us and it was one of the most interesting conversations of my life.  His mother was German so a Dutchman marrying a German woman not long after the Second World War definitely not the norm.  He had worked for several years in Taiwan.  And he had run a start up in the heyday of the Silicon Valley.  He had been in DC helping his youngest daughter get settled at Georgetown but – like me – loved NYC so was spending a few days there before flying back to Shiphol.

It was a fascinating conversation and he was an interesting man but the kind of alpha male who is not a natural pairing for me.  Despite my reservations, we started a romance of sorts via email.  Internet dating when you have actually MET the person seemed a better option.  And some of his emails were devastating – the stuff of romantic novels, not real life.

At that point, however, I was making an attempt to meet someone in MY OWN CITY so was going on more conventional internet dates while I tried to figure out who Engelbert really was…

Things were fine until I met someone local I actually liked on an internet date.  It was July.  And Engelbert had decided to stop in Vancouver en route to a business destination elsewhere.  Awkward…

I decided the solution would be to use some airmiles and fly to Amsterdam to figure out WHAT was going on with romantic email Dutch guy and if I should be choosing him over local prospects.  It was high season so all I could get was a very restricted itinerary for August.  Engelbert was busy at work and I said I didn’t have to come then but he started planning my trip to the entire country – complete with making out in front of a windmill… so I got on the plane.

The start was brilliant.  He had worked for Phillips so was a technology guy so the emails and text anticipating and announcing arrival, planning our first meeting on Dutch soil – it was pure cinema, much grander than normal people ever experience in daily life.

And the first two days (Tue and Wed) were brilliant.  It was so fun to be in Amsterdam with a Dutch guy – and really opened me up to the city in a new way.

Thursday was disappointing.  He had to work unexpectedly so our evening together got cancelled but the weekend was supposed to make up for it.  I wandered the canals in the dark alone… but I also discovered how incredibly romantic Amsterdam can be.  It is a city where you can take yourself on romantic dates and be totally content…

In the end, it was great that I had discovered this.  Will get more into details of that fateful trip as I hang out in Amsterdam but the bottom line is this… Scott was beastly to me in Berlin – and a lot of timeI spent in that city on my first visit not such fun memories.  But Berlin seduced me – and it’s an affair that just gets better with each visit 😉

Engelbert proved to be a class A jerk.  But HE got me to Amsterdam!  I fell in love.  I went dancing!  I got to be part of an incredible sailing weekend that happens every five years (I have Aeroplan and the dates I could get to thank :)).  I have never been so popular in my entire life.  I went from the girl who went to Amsterdam to go on a date to the girl who got mysteriously dumped by a random jerk to the girl who recovered from a breakup in record time and lived enough in 10 days to equal the high points of many people’s entire lives.

As Liam and I agreed – the Engelbert Amsterdam trip wasn’t just a screenplay – it was SEVERAL screenplays!  So, Engelbert, thanks for luring me to Amsterdam and thanks for dumping me without any semblance of manners or style – so that I could have a WAY better time than if I’d stayed tethered to you…  Sometimes getting dumped is what makes the trip fun!!! 😉

walk like an egyptian

I can’t quite remember how to “walk like an Egyptian” but the song still haunts me.  These days though I am haunted/daunted by the prospect of trying to be respectful and dress in some Muslim-esque fashion in 40 degree heat.  I don’t know – it strikes me that this Muslim penchant for clothes and hair just doesn’t jive with the climate in which Islam flourishes… I must be missing something…

Nevertheless, I am not planning to be in Egypt long enough to change the dress code so am just trying to figure out how to blend in without spending a fortune – and completely abandoning my personal style.

I have dubbed it the “hot Muslim challenge” – double entendre intentional.  Mostly I have been shopping the sales racks, scanning the labels for cotton or linen and feeling a sense of victory when the label says “made in India.”  The wardrobe is now close to complete.  I think my $9.50 sunhat is already starting to come unstitched but it cost $9.50 so expectations cannot be too grandiose.  I also scored two cotton shawls for $15.

Despite the size of my wardrobe I am not really a “shopper”.  When I hit the streets, the point is to buy stuff – as quickly as possible.  So having to troll through all sorts of stores and scour the sale racks is not my idea of fun.  But I think I now have a reasonably stylish, clever, light and thrifty trousseau to see me through my honeymoon with the Pharoahs.

I even managed to score a few items of clothing I am not even planning to leave in Egypt!  Today I had an interesting conversation with José at the brand new J. Crew store on Robson Street (those who know my wardrobe well will appreciate how exciting that is for me 🙂   I had been trolling on the website and had paid a fleeting visit to the store on an early “dress like a Muslim” recognisance mission.  Featherweight 100% cotton cardigans seemed a great way to be covered without breaking into a sweat – and something for my Muslim wardrobe that would actually fit my personal style.

It’s a concept that I’ve only really gotten a handle on in my last decade or two.  I grew up in the bush, I was a tomboy and then I put on clothes  – I was a hot mess – and didn’t even know it.

I’m not quite sure how my personal style was acquired.  I think it started at Benetton.  Colour.  A little preppy good taste.  A little Italian flair.  There was the time I moved back to Vancouver from Sydney and tried to buy a pair of boring, comfortable loafers at Stephane de Raucourt – and they had changed their business model!  Being someone who hates shopping and had found a store with comfortable, fashionable shoes, I was loath to go elsewhere so was convinced a pair of suede loafers with a Gucci buckle and a 1 ½” heel would be as comfortable as my old boring ones.

It was a life changing moment.  All of a sudden people noticed my shoes!  And complimented them.  My fame for cool, interesting shoes was born.  And using shoes to jazz up old clothing.  Or catch the attention of young men in bars.  Or score bicycle rides on the canals of Amsterdam.  This has become a trademark of my personal style.

It’s going to be a challenge to maintain any sense of style – personal or not – in Egypt.  But one should always be clever and put one’s best foot forward.  So I will have some boring, conservative lightweight cotton shirts that I will leave behind.  But I will also have some pretty featherweight cardigans in purple and green.  I will have my new lighter than air purple sneakers from Sketchers.  I will have some Brown’s loafers in beige patent – my black ones were worn 19 days straight on round one and are the stylish dream travel shoes.

And – most importantly – I will bring the critical elements of my personal style – my smile and my attitude.  As José said today at J. Crew, “are you this friendly to everyone?”  I replied, “if I like you and you treat me well, I return the favour.”  The kind of personal style that won’t get you a spread in Vogue but will make your life worthwhile 🙂