I've landed, and after a few days with Anne-Marie and Juriaan in Neuwegeim, I'm starting to settle in. In fact, I've been utterly coddled: set up with mobile phone (complete with 15€ credit and a 5 MP camera!), a new bike, and an abundance of good food, good coffee, great conversation, and new friends, it's quickly starting to feel like home. A quick run-down, though, of the last two weeks:
11 August (Wednesday): packing, packing, packing; saying good-byes; lunch with Grannie (Molly) Cousineau in McBride. Debate staying in Dunster one more night; take 2 hours to leave the farm and visiting with dad. (I miss you!) Jasper by 8 pm to meet friends Claire & Dallas at the Winkler home; homemade raspberry wine (courtesy of Arlene), homemade venison sausage (courtesy of Terry Winkler), and garden salad (courtesy of Winkler garden). Go to Astoria to meet Sean (spelled properly) and friend... M*. Traditional on tap; Strongbows; wings; 'nuff said. Jasper comedy = watching local kids getting nabbed for blocking street traffic with pylons. More entertaining than it sounds.
12 August (Thursday): Home at Sean's by 3:30 am. Manage not to wake anyone. Leave Jasper at 2 after over-priced, over-rated, under-sized breakfast wrap at Coco's. Calgary by 7:45 pm.
13-15 August: Blur. Cleaning and emptying Grannie's house in Calgary. Move everything to Shelly's garage, which turns out to be just big enough, but not big enough to fit the car in the garage. Errands in Calgary. Sunshine and pouring rain in Calgary. Too much Calgary. Forgot how much I don't miss Calgary (but will miss Maruju Sushi in Calgary!).
16 August (Monday; final day): Errands in Calgary, Part II. Eye appointment is literally blinding; pupils dilated to the size of saucers, Kim intercepts me at the Helly Hansen outlet last-minute shopping a 70% -off sale. She tells me to go the car. My 30th birthday/going-away present is a beautiful, perfectly fitted grey-and-green soft shell jacket. I love it. My family is AWESOME. Dinner at Open Range; I have never paid this much for food. Snarky waitress. Great food. Free-form goat cheesecake with chocolate is fabulous, but not everyone agrees.
16 August Part II: At Superstore until 11 buying last-minute clothes, "Canadian food" for Sweden, and other things I forgot/didn't get. Electronics section closed so can't get what I came for: European electrical converter, and an alarm clock. Crucial items. Packing at Shelly's house until 2:30 am.
17 August (Tuesday): The Big Day. Awake at 5:30. Out of bed and re-packing by 7. At CIBC by 9 am; close chequing account, get euros, race to London Drugs for converter and alarm clock. Find both. Converter covers UK, Middle East, South America, and Asia, so I will never have to buy another one again. Good news. Back at Shelly's at 10:15; re-pack, final-pack, sit-on pack, and close up. Realize it's probably too heavy. Take out running shoes (I'll be biking, right?), and some other things. Ready to go when Kim arrives (early!) at 10:45. Load car. Realize there are two loads of laundry I forgot - one in the dryer, one in the washer. Wear wet bra and tanktop, pack two more, and say to hell with the rest. I'm already missing the short yoga pants that were in the dryer! Off to the airport. Breakfast at TH's; hugs good-bye (to Kim, Carlos, Rae, Mom and Shelly) and off to Toronto - Lester Pearson International Airport. Leave Calgary 40 minutes late.
17 August Part II: Toronto airport is cursed. Land 45 minutes late. 15 minutes to leave security, get my boarding pass (which couldn't be printed in Calgary), get back through security: you would think this would be enough (right). Am passing through security, in the handicapped ("faster") line-up, as they are calling my name. I am at gate 161. I am leaving at gate 179. I am dripping sweat, but make it: and there's still one more behind me. My seat-neighbours inform me they'd hoped to be seated next to someone from Iceland. As consolation I give up my window seat.
18 August: Keflavik, Iceland. 15 minutes to relax, and eat+drink for the first time in about 12 hours (although I've lost track through so many time zones). Love airport washrooms. Safety in stalls. No paper. Warm water. Back in time for boarding. Finally: my seat neighbours are a lovely pair from Minnesota, off for their first trip to Europe. Collapse into a groggy coma in my aisle seat (no longer a window fanatic; I'm converted), I wake occasionally to let them out. They practically have to physically shake me, but we all laugh about it afterwards.
... And at last! Arrive in Schiphol. Delirious, and barely recognize Anne-Marie and her friend Mickey waiting at the end of the Arrivals line. I am strongly inclined to make a mad dash for the doors: there have been no customs, no security checks, no strip-searching or interrogations or threats thereof. Yes, they inform me: welcome to the EU. I suppose their ''laissez-fairitude'' arises because everything invasive in other parts of the world (plants, animals, colonists) came from here in the first place.
... Knowing this is long already, I'll try to summarize even more briefly: 18 and 19 August are spent on catching up with Anne-Marie, who I haven't seen in a full year and half; and with her husband Juriaan, who I of course don't know as well (yet) but has had the kindness, generosity and naivete to welcome into his home another of AM's extended friends-family. Finally a teapot has been found that is sufficient for our appetities; much tea-drinking ensues, some grocery-shopping, and general very focused hanging-out. On Friday we spend the day doubling on the bike to the city hall (residency permit issues; boring) and then entertaining guests that she's invited over for me to know a few more people in the country. Mickey brings port. Lots of fun and good discussion ensues, then everyone goes home, except Mickey, who is staying. Juriaan retires to bed (wise move). The last three standing - AM, Mickey, and I - are up until 4:30 am before acknowledging, reluctantly, that we should call it a night if we are to function the next day. I discover to my delight that Anne-Marie can still be scared out of her wits by leaping out from behind a door.
21 August (Saturday) and 22 Sunday we've spent at Juriaan's cousin Jaco's house in Sauwerd, a 10-minute drive north of Groningen. His lovely tricolour collie Laika is an absolute dear, such a treat, and obedient to the nth degree. Wonderful companion.
Sauwerd is a lovely small town of about 1500 people, surrounding by countryside and even - gasp! - rolling hills, and bands of perfectly spaced poplar trees; flocks of Texel sheep and regal Dutch warmblood horses, hemmed in by canals choked full of cattails and duckweed. This afternoon we took a few hours to go into Groningen proper, see my new apartment (sadly, no one home), check out the city. It reminds me of Florence, Italy, with a more laidback sense of down-to-earth livability and functionality; less tourism and more day-to-day. O
It's all quaint in a very livable, quiet way: I recall writing once after arriving in Argentina, that anyone who goes south must ask, "Why go back?". After a few days, it seems that the same could be said here. Life seems more civilized, less rushed (this is confirmed by both residents and ex-pats alike); more geared towards living than surviving. I'm looking forward to getting started.
Tonight it's off to the Klubban Biological Station in Fiskebaeckskil, Sweden; Jaco and I will go by train to Haren, from where a group of students and our coordinator, Irma, leave on the bus at 9 for Gothenburg Airport.
More anon; I think that's enough for one (or 12!) days.
It's all quaint in a very livable, quiet way: I recall writing once after arriving in Argentina, that anyone who goes south must ask, "Why go back?". After a few days, it seems that the same could be said here. Life seems more civilized, less rushed (this is confirmed by both residents and ex-pats alike); more geared towards living than surviving. I'm looking forward to getting started.
Tonight it's off to the Klubban Biological Station in Fiskebaeckskil, Sweden; Jaco and I will go by train to Haren, from where a group of students and our coordinator, Irma, leave on the bus at 9 for Gothenburg Airport.
More anon; I think that's enough for one (or 12!) days.
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