Bikes

Duri Price

I spent the earlier part of the day sending out resumes to companies I found on www.jobserve.com, which has a lot of European IT work listed. I probably only sent out 8 resumes or so, and most of those were about a notch or two down from my last position. One at least was about a notch up, but I don’t have a C background so I’m not likely to be qualified.

In the afternoon I decided to start prepping for the bicycle trip. I went to a map shop and bought a map of all the bike routes in Holland (which is basically a second road net), then went to Vondel Park to read the map and figure out where I was going. I ended up sitting beside a Dutch guy who eventually asked me if he could borrow the map for a moment.

I think that’s what he said, because he said it in Dutch, but after I rewarded him with a blank look and something in pidgin Spanish about chickens he tried English and conversation flowed more freely. We talked for about an hour on social subjects and general trivia while we watched the stunning Dutch women wander around by the pond. Purrr…

I eventually got on the bike and decided to scout out the first portion of the trip route I was taking out of the city. The route took me by Amsterzeeduben (or something) Bok (which I think means ‘Park’, or perhaps ‘Lost’). This is a very large wooded park with a canal/lake along one side and bike paths all through the trees. There weren’t too many people there so it was a pleasant ride, especially cruising through the cool green woods or along the lakeshore. The park itself was quite large, and contained an old cathedral on the outskirts, a bird refuge, and a tulip growing thingy. The tulip growing thingy would probably be more impressive with actual tulips, but it wasn’t the season yet so it just looked like a bunch of really well laid-out bushes.

At one point I was going along a path that briefly went beside a small lake. I stopped and went out to the small foot dock that went along the shore. There I saw two big Great Lake … Swamp.. … Dutch…. um, Cranes…. or Mallards. Birds. Really big, pretty birds. With lots of colors and neat feathers and stuff. One had lots of blue, and the other was brown and tan. Both had a lot of feathers. They were big. And pretty.

So after my bird watching I continued on and made it home in about an hour or so. I decided that one way or another I need to ditch about 25 lbs of shit, so Thursday I have to go through my stuff and decide what goes.

I got back to the hostel eventually and settled in. I eventually settled in the Chill Room (a room with a TV, couches and all the things a stoned person could want except food). I was chatting with a few people and ended up talking with a woman who’d just graduated from Reed Collage in Portland Oregon with a degree in History. Her specialty was WWII, specifically the Holocaust and the social developments that lead to it.

Six hours later, around 6 am, we both staggered off to our respective rooms. She had to leave the next morning and I was getting pretty punchy by then. It’s rare that I meet someone that I can babble history to with wild abandon, and this person was quite worth talking to outside that topic range as well. This is one neat chick, and it’s been awhile since I met someone for the first time and had a six-hour conversation.

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