So, firstly after a couple of years I intend to actually pump out the blog of my travels. So, over the several days in Eindhoven a diverse outdoors experience was central to the experience.
Joran was busy with his final research project, which actually got him a round trip to Tenerife for a conference. So, while he was hammering out the practical side of his industrial engineering project I would start from his place and spend the day walking. The aim of walking for day one was to try and see every single major green space. Have you ever had an idea that seemed like it was going to easily work out? From the city centre to a radius of about 10km out was the approximate radius of walk. I think there were over 20 parks that were bigger than 5 acres that I came across. The good thing about Eindhoven is that the lower socio-economic areas do not seem to attract the more dangerous individuals, I didn’t feel like a potential voodoo doll candidate for knives.
That was the Saturday. that night was experiencing of the street of streets. With Eindhoven being a flat city that is 1950s bike friendly place, we rode into the single street containing over 40 night spots. The locals knew where the free spots were, but apparently there was a few worth paying the 5 Euro for: Like the one with the room resembling the Victorian Period ballroom. The night was fairly typical of a Melbourne night life, with the bar hopping and mulling around on the streets drunkards. Instead of the souvalaki stands and shops open until dawn, Eindhoven has the hot food vending machine. On one side are the people constantly cooking the food, and on the other side people slip in their coins and get some “night food”. I think Amsterdam had the same thing as well, funny Dutchies.
Talking about funny Dutchies, a guy was talking to his girlfriend in our last club, when a guy walked into him and talked to him harshly. The non-drunk must have said something slightly insulting because the drunk went for the swing. In 1 minute there was pushing, punching, scuffling. The girlfriend tried to intervene, while security came along. This literally happened 1/2 metre from me, so close it was that Joran actually got bumped and spilt a bit of his bevvie. He said something, which was along the lines of “”You can spill blood but don’t spill beer.”
With a 4am finish we ended up getting back in and the guys realised their other housemate had come back home. The three of them jumped on him (and his girlfriend), after seeing the funny side of it I went back downstairs to which I heard a huge bang. Someone apparently doesn’t make beds that can accommodate 4 full grown Dutch guys and a girl, with 3 of the guys jumping fervently. I think wake up was about noon, with the house still being dead. The housemate had left early to try and get some work done and the other guys lumbered out with the aim of checking out the local market. I didn’t realise, when they said local market it was similar to the movie “Nottinghill”, the market was basically out the front of their door. Now, if Dutchies are reading this ever in their life they would know what the deep fried pastries sprinkled in casting sugar. There were several similar in style, but apparently this was the deity of hangover food.
You would think if a hangover was a part of your day, the last thing one would want to consider is to get back into the routine of the drink. How mistaken. Only a few late afternoon drinks. This would only make the unfamiliar wonder: What about all the used bottles? Well, the supermarket was also a bottle recycling store, a return of maybe 1 Euro per crate of 12 was a government policy. I think there were over 70 crates at the place: 5 high, 5 long, 3 wide. The aim was that every 100 they may do something about it. After getting some simple food, it was time to visit the club rooms. The what? Select people from the university are accepted into a special club room. Similar to a man’s club, but not based on gender. I think it was based on liver strength. Several rules were incorporated as a part of the policies and mission statement, excluding designated drivers: For each non alcoholic drink one must also consume an alcoholic, a full drink must be presented to each person within a 30 minute period, no one is allowed to have their backs to the bar, all people must seat at the bar, unless there is overflow, every X number of drinks (I forget the number) will imply the next to get a drink also buys a bar person a drink. If any of these regulations are not followed then the person in question is to buy every person a beer. Now, this was also included as a part of the mission statement where it aims to have all members friends with those providing the beverage and permitting drinking and working members interact on a level plane. Oh yea, people volunteered at the bar on a rotational basis, where a contract has been signed to work X days per year. There are plenty of other rules to understand, but not really that important.
Early night due to Joran’s uni start the following day.
Monday was my architecture day: Walk around to all famous spots, and then looking through some back streets. I think the picture of the bowling pins are up on my photo album page. I think the places I ate at had English speakers there, but the menus were only in Dutch, meat pie was on the menu. The aim of a dutch meal was to provide one with the bare essentials, minimal herbs, spices, etc. That night was actually a stay at home, play cards and eat in. I think Squirrel won the poke and got to keep the Skittles.
Tuesday, while being the last day, I ended up meeting Joran at his uni and eating at the cafe there. Post consumptions the goodbyes were done and I went and checked out the exhibition on photos that travelled around select cities of Europe. The winner was a photo in the Palestines of a bombed out town and a group of girls were dressed in Prada with Gucci glasses and driving around in a sports car probably worth a minimum of $200,000 AUD.
Back to the train and to Schipol airport. I think the airport was designed with the intention of being innovative and aiming to become a trend setter… with minimal success.
To the homeland of the richer European countries. The flight was to Oslo, where I didn’t realsise that due to the cheap flights, this actually meant 150km away. less than 1.5 hours later I was in Oslo city.
