Where in the World is Marta Senn-Diego? The 22nd: Orange Boven!

My first weekend in Amsterdam did not disappoint.

I moved into my home for the next two weeks: an apartment courtesy of AirBnB. Definitely check them out if you're going to be traveling. You can stay with someone, on their couch, in a guesthouse, or a whole apartment! People just rent space for travelers and you get the nice homey touches that hotels lack. The apartment I'm in is in the Jordaan district, the Jewish district, of western Amsterdam. It's a quiet, residential area, but I'll get to all that another time.

For this is about King's Day!

Two years ago, April 27th was actually Queen's Day. But now there's a king. Clear? Good. Let's move on.

It's a national pride day a week before their regular Liberation Day. People come from all over the world to wear orange, drink copiously, and sing and dance in the streets. People take advantage of the sidewalks in front of their homes and turn the city into one giant garage sale.

Children become little entrepreneurs and sell everything from old toys to orange juice; they dance, paint nails, sell home-baked goods and play instruments.

 Because William of Orange. GETTIT?

Many people even set up carnival-like games. There's one game where the goal is to hit an orange with a club when it comes out of a pipe: you can't see the orange in the tube, you just have to time it from when the kid drops the orange at the top to when it comes shooting out the bottom. It sounds simple, but the endless flow of beer and wine all day makes it much more difficult than you would think.

Another game I saw was apparently a common one up north. There's a large log full of nails. You have to hit a nail with a hammer and get it into the log with three tries to win a cup of wine. It's great fun! The woman wanted to get rid of her excess wine by the time I came around and generously gave me four tries with the hammer and a well stocked cup of wine at the end!

Basically, you walk around, browse people's goods, dance, sing, eat, drink, and then collapse at the end of it all. The Dam Square in the middle of the city is mobbed with people and set up like a small carnival with a few games, a ferris wheel, a giant swing and the kinds of rides that don't mix well with alcohol and sausage.

But Dam Square isn't where all the life is. It's all over the city. Down every other street is another stage playing more loud music and more people pressing tight together, laughing and singing. And everyone is covered in orange! In a word, it's amazing!

So. Much. Orange.

Where in the World is Marta Senn-Diego? Part 21: A Long Dam Day

Since having to sacrifice a trip to Pai with the other members of my Thailand wolf pack, I decided to leave myself a few unplanned days after Paris. It gave me more flexibility to move around Benelux. I thought I might take the train early to Belgium and explore Antwerp or somewhere, then move on to spend a night or two in Rotterdam before finally arriving in Amsterdam.

But oh, the whimsy of Fate.

I bid adieu to gay Paris bright and early. And because I'm so delightfully cliche, I did it with a coffee and croissant at a cafe before heading into the train station to buy a ticket to Rotterdam.

Turns out, life just wasn't going to be that easy. There had apparently been a strike in effect in Belgium since Monday and all trains going through there were delayed or canceled. I was a bit dismayed to hear about the strike, but glad that the service counter could still help me out. I felt like I was making some difficult and dangerous exodus the whole time.

I was given three tickets: one to Lille, one to Brussels, and one to Rotterdam. Getting to Lille was easy and uneventful. I rode a nice train and had a lovely little nap. Then things got a little dicey. At Lille, I had to find another train station that would connect to Belgium. After finally finding it due to some rather inaccurately placed signage, I found the trains were all canceled! Fortunately, a bus would leave soon that would take me there and I wouldn't have to buy another ticket: I just used the one meant for the train.

Finally on the bus and inching my way out of Lille, things were smoothing out again. I was nervous, though, because the bus was moving so slowly through Lille to get to the highway and I was panicked about making the next connection.

Ah, but not to fear: that train was canceled too! I'll tell you something: there are few things in life creepier than an empty building that is supposed to be bustling with life and chaos. The station was nearly deserted! A few station masters milled about and service people gathered around kiosks and chatted. Small individuals and small groups echoed through the large empty station. We were provided water and waffles-to-go while we waited for our respective buses to arrive.

I spent a while just walking around the station, feeling like I was in another, much creepier dimension, like something out of a Stephen King novel.

Eventually the buses came, and eventually, I arrived in Rotterdam and checked into my hostel. It was large, clean, and most importantly, it had free coffee.

Markthal in Rotterdam! Basically foodie heaven.

Calm down: it's a Christmas tree!

I was only spending the next day in town, so I went to bed early and the next day, just wandered and enjoyed the parks, architecture, and weather.

 And I got my first taste of classic Dutch architecture!

Two deer enjoying the...ahem...season

 Go home, Art. You're drunk.

The parks were lovely, and they gave me plenty of chances to check out the birds!

Where in the World is Marta Senn-Diego? The Twentieth One! Street Art is Street Life

 Paris is full of art and full of life. It always has been. It always will be. We're so lucky that it was spared during the past world wars. It has survived burning and revolutions. And through all that, the art has endured. It has changed, too!

That goes for the people as well.

So to close out my time with Paris, I want to share some of the beauty and life I saw for four days.

 (Look, Corey! I found a beezer!)

Along the walls were green boxes that could be opened and turned into little shops.

Filipa was right: always go around the back of every church and museum. You won't be disappointed!

I'll miss Paris, but some day, I'm sure I'll go back.