Into the Neverlands

Went to the park yesterday to kill some time. As I was walking into the shadow of a chestnut tree a cock walked right into me. Two of them, actually. I haven't seen one for a long time. Some cultures believe a cock is a symbol of luck, while others are convinced this is the symbol of the devil and all things satanic and the only thing that can save you if you are facing one is a rake . Those two guys were sporting crimson combs and colourful attire and I had no rake. Then I saw a peacock, the family of Bambis, a bunch of parrots, ducks, geese and I felt like Noah about to board the boat before the flood and save the world. I didn't save anybody. But I got a room after the encounter - so it must be a symbol of luck. Worked for me.

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There hostels were people stay and there are those were travellers and backpackers live. Hostel Utrecht happens to be the latter one. Some stay because they get trapped (or lost shall I call it?) in the Neverlands.

There is a sweet Finnish boy who gets all excited just by the mention of the magic words pot, weed, chocolate you name it.

Then there is a talented American guy who despite speaking Dutch and Spanish (haven't heard other, but it is possible) actually works for a bed and food. Previously he was living in Yemen, but once the civil war started his family and friends asked him to leave. He says despite the war and the news he felt safe there and made many friends. I was trying to convince him that 400 Euro for a room is reasonable (anything will be reasonable after Dublin to me) and he told me he used to pay 80 Euro for a house in Yemen. I encouraged him to look for something in Amsterdam, but it is his life after all and his decisions.

There is Spanish looking guy who sleeps in the bed below me and that's exactly what he seems to be doing all the time - sleeping. Maybe he is waiting for a princess to wake him up. But how can you sleep all day long when it is 28 degrees?

And there are hordes of other all kind of people, who regardless of the filthy state of the hostel and intimate 16-bed dorms are here to explore the Neverlands. Until today I thought I might have to volunteer in exchange for the bed and food as well, but luckily I met a fantastic landlord Sjon and I have a place to live! Yey!!!

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It is ROASTING.

Sitting on your own in a park with a wok to go in a paper bag is a bit depressing.

On the happy note - getting a lift from one of the guys whose place I was viewing today on the bike was what's that Dutch word - gesellig?

An observation: there are no Spars in Utrecht. Which has its pros and cons. Pros: I prefer small local merchants than gargantual brands. Cons: getting a bottle of water at around 8pm on a Sunday evening seemed to be impossible. Fortunatelly, came across a few hot (as seems to become the rule in the Neverlands - no wonder that's the title of the country) guys sitting on the steps of a wine shop who were kind enough to give me a bottle of wine filled with tap water. Bless your souls!

Didn't succeed with one casting, another one is tomorrow. If the one tomorrow doesn't work out, it is possible I might have to live in Maarssen for half a year - the landloard is a bubbley Spanish guy. If I cycle to Maarssen and back to Utrecht five days a week, I could be fit to participate in the next year's Giro d'Italia.

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A friend of mine ensured me that I would love living in the Netherlands.

Arrived here safe and sound and I am enjoying the town already. Enjoyment might be a bit too big a word - after spending half a day in Utrecht I'm still recovering from 6am flight to Schiphol. Not doing anything crazy or mad, just getting the things up and running: the mobile number, Lonely Planet's Dutch conversation guide (and learning to pronounce that kh), flip flops (it's roasting here!),etc. People are very helpful, the hostel is not exactly the tidiest one I have seen, but there's beer, tea, coffee and breakfast. Staying with another 15 people in the dorm. Actually people seem to be communicatng within the groups they have arrived in rather than getting in touch with strangers, but maybe it's me scaring them off. Probably.

Seeing a few apartments tomorrow, fingers crossed. The town looks fantastic - the buildings, the people, everything. Unlike the Irish it seems that the Dutch know how to have fun without getting pissed and without pulling huge shopping bags with them around the city. I might be wrong as well - false first impressions perhaps, yet I am very and it is hard to believe I am moving to the Neverlands.

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A friend of mine thinks that "The Netherlands" is a euphemism for "Denmark". It doesn't really sound like the name of the country, does it? Besides, for most of the foreigners it does seem somewhat surreal: they smoke dope without the fear of getting caught and one of the main attractions of the capital is a Red Light District, where again everybody can wander and wonder without the fear of getting caught. Overall it sounds like the ultimate island of liberty. Hence the title of the blog.

My experiences of the past few days only serve as a proof that it will not be as easy as I was expecting.

Starting my Master's studies in Utrecht in September, moving from Dublin. The International Admissions Office is on holidays. Just in time I'd say - when everybody is looking for accommodation. So do I. Thus I'm coming accommodation-hunting for a few days in the end of July.

Charming 26-year-old.
Female.
Enjoys W.Wender's movies, N.Simone and a peace of mind now and again.
Has a soft spot for lomography.
Loves big Aussie reds.
A night owl rather than an early bird.
Currently reads U.Eco's "Foucault's Pendulum" and ponders whether to finish A. Burgess' "Clockwork Orange".
Pays on time, cooks well and to her knowledge doesn't snore.
Has reservations about the success of this ad (in the accommodation hunting department).

For any questions please contact me at lina[dot]zigelyte[at]gmail[dot]com

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