This blog is a bit different. I am going to try and pen down an experience, one that I am so boastfully proud of that it gets my heart racing even eight years on. Every now and then, on occasion I recount snippets of it to friends and family, and my stories have always been met with such delight and surprise, that I felt compelled to do something bigger with it.
I know amazing experiences are best felt in your head and probably lose their magic when put down on paper, but I fear time would fade away some of the finer details of the trip and more importantly, the experiences and feelings at various points. Just eight years on from the trip in 2012 – I find myself straining to remember dates, places and even names of most hotels I stayed at. This trip has really defined a lot of what I am, and how I feel about myself. I’d like to put it down for me to come back to, say ten years later, and refresh and rekindle the amazement of the experience. More importantly, it dawned on me that while one may not be in this world forever, written text can. This piece of digital journal could be a wonderful reference for my kids (possibly future gens to) to get to know a different side to their mother đ
Chapter 1: Get set, Go!
So, rewind back to the year of 2012, month of October, Day 26. Its a Friday and we are wrapping up the last day of the CDP training in London. We had a pretty early finish, i suppose it was around 12pm. Everyone is saying their goodbyes, or are most probably in a pub (oh yeah, the strong pub culture in London!), while I am back at my suite at Think apartments packing for my week-long travel in Europe ahead. I recollect there was some confusion until the last moment as to where to store my main luggage as I was going to travel light with a school bag. I had fixed up to leave it at Manmitha’s friend Malavika’s hostel room, who was studying at a university in London. But something gave me the idea of just checking with the Think Apartments concierge if they entertained luggage storage, and it turned out they did. I still remember the sweet disposition of the British lady who replied pleasantly saying “Sure, No problem. We can store your luggage here until you are back”. She escorted me a second room behind the reception. It wasn’t a proper locker, just a corner of the room where I could leave my baggage. But the good news is (and I am just doing a straight fast-forward’ to the end of my trip), my luggage was exactly where I had left it, with no signs of tampering around when I got back to it a week later.
It was 8pm as I got off the Buckingham Palace tube station and walked towards the Victoria coach station. I was to board the 9:30pm Megabus that would take me from London to the other side of the English channel (yes, the bus crosses the english channel and I will get to that in a bit). I remember two things from my wait at the station; buying a sandwich for dinner, and recharging my Lyca SIM card with 25 pounds (hoping that would last me the week ahead in Europe).
Boarding the bus, I found my seat and we departed as per scheduled time. As the wheels moved, bouts of excitement and nervousness hit me together. I remember this feeling ‘Oh god, I am on my own now’, interjected by self-assuring thoughts ‘Its okay Kalyani, you managed to get by fine until here’. Right about then I got a call from Pavani (fellow grad in London) asking me about the Bombay Sapphire gin bottle the grad bunch had bought at Heathrow on the day of arrival, but had been transported to my room mistakenly by the bell boy. The grads wanted it now to celebrate their last night in London, but I had checked out of my room absent-mindedly leaving the bottle behind. I remember saying my sorry and suggesting she check with concierge if house-keeping had found it. The disappointment was evident in her voice but I couldn’t care less. I had a whole adventure ahead of me and I had to stay focused. It may all sound dreamy now, but it was a week of butterflies-in-the-stomach and being on-my-guard every waking moment.
So, whats a Megabus? Its this super economical way to cross over from UK to Europe across the English channel in under 15 pounds. The next best option would be Eurorail which would cost you a minimum $80 pounds for a one-way trip. I remember the moment as the bus slowed down when we were nearing the port where the bus then boards a ship-vessel. Once it parks, all passengers alight and go up to the ship’s cozy lounge to relax and catch some sleep. The lounge was pretty nice, with a 24/7 cafe that sold hot chocolate drink and coffee, along with some souvenir shops and gambling machines. By the way, this was not my first time on MegaBus. If I am not wrong, my grad friend Pavani and I had taken the bus to Paris and had been through the whole drill before. I was familiar with the ship now. I recall taking a stroll around, doing some window-shopping and then finally settling down on one of the tables with my hot coffee and my book (I think it was ‘The Mistress of spices’. Its amazing how these finer details are just surfacing to my mind while I am writing this blog. I might be even wrong, but i am getting these visuals in my head. So I going just going with the flow). It was 1 am in the middle of the night and the view outside was pitch dark, that of the english channel.. barely anything to keep anyone excited. I probably dozed for an hour, and woke up to find my book gone (Well, the book ‘mistress of spices’ is still here with me, someone returned it to me later on in the bus!).
Anyway, cut to the next scene. We are all boarding the bus again, but this time to enter Europe. It was a quaint French city with a very cute small name. From there on, the bus drove into the night onwards to Brussels, where I was to alight. I still remember how cold it got at night. Let’s picture this- Late October, Coastline Europe, 3 am in the morning, in a bus driving on a deserted road in the country side. There was no heating within the bus ( the trip costs you 15 pounds for a reason!). I tugged onto my knees to keep myself warm until the dreary weather and moving bus finally pulled into a sound sleep. Waking up, I found hippy-looking black woman with dreadlocks sitting next to me, knitting. By now, the sun had risen and there were some nice country-side views from the window. I distinctly remember feeling very aware seated next to her and thinking I should keep to myself and not make conversations with such people. But after a while, she initiated a conversation by enquiring in a very nice friendly voice, where I was heading. I kept my response short and told her I was going to Brussels and then taking a train to Amsterdam. She said “Oh, why you not taking the bus directly to Amsterdam then?”. I go “What? This bus goes to Amsterdam? I thought its last stop is Brussels!”. She clarified that the bus goes on to to cover a whole lot of places through the course of the day, and stopped by Amsterdam too. She nudged me to walk up to the coach conductor and check if I could top up the fare and continue till Amsterdam. I remember walking the entire length of the moving bus up to the front of the coach to check with the conductor. He replied, checking his reservation chart, “I am sorry. We are fully booked from Brussels to Amsterdam”
Back at my seat, the lady and I continued our conversation. She told me she lives in Brussels and her son lived there too. As we were closing in on the city, I mentally prepared myself for the quick sprint to the train station from where my train for Amsterdam would depart. Brussels has two different train stations (or maybe more). My train was booked from the station that was a 15 min walk/ bus ride from the coach center where Megabus would alight me. I turned towards the lady and asked “Can I confirm I turn left once I alight and walk towards … to reach xxx train station?”. She replied looking confused “Umm…yes, but trains for Amsterdam depart from Centraal station, its the one right by where the bus will alights us.” We had a couple exchanges debating this but she kept pressing (like a motherly figure) that Centraal was where I should board my train. I finally acceded, and hurriedly alighted from the bus to go racing into the terminal. I checked the digital board and sure enough, found a train to Amsterdam approaching the platform shortly.
Boarding the train, I settled into my seat thinking how wondrously I was steered off an unpleasant situation thanks to the stranger of a lady. And as the train started moving slowly out of the platform, I caught the kind lady scrambling down the staircase, straining to peer through the departing train’s windows to see if I had managed to board.. It was one of those moments when it sinks on you how wrong you were about a person. The lady, who I had misjudged unfit for a conversation just a couple hours ago, had turned out to be an angel in disguise! This was after-all my first leg of the journey and a screw-up such as the one would have been such a confidence-killer. All of that saved due to this woman who, by some good fate of mine, happened to land a seat right next to me on the bus. I regret not noting down her name (though some inner consciousness tells me it was Reeta).
Chapter 2: Amsterdaam
After a good one and a half hour train ride, I set foot in the city of Amsterdam. Spotting a tourist information center soon after walking out of the Amsterdam Central station, I made a sprint for it out in the drizzling morning. The room was filled with brochures, pamphlets and some customer reps to talk to. The crowd in the room was overwhelming (even by non-covid standards.. ha!) and it wasn’t long before I exited the place, but not before buying a 40 euro combo hop-on hop-off ticket. It gave me 3 day cruise and 2 day bus pass. I was bubbling with excitement! How often do you visit a city that can be explored on canals?!
With a plan in hand, I then headed for the Meiningar Hotel where I was to check-in by 12pm. The hotel was one station away, at Sloterdijk which was ok because the options in central had been not only expensive, but low value for money. Anyway, I headed to the ticketing kiosk, and learnt how to purchase a round-trip ticket (4 euros!) to Sloterdjik and back. Those were the days where learning to use a ticketing kiosk also gave me the jitters. I remember asking a customer service assistant for some help. 20 min later, I got to my hotel which turned out to be pretty chic looking. My room, however, turned out to be a disappointment in terms of size. For 60 euros a night (the most expensive stay for the entire trip), the room was just a narrow rectangular space, containing a bed with a reading light perched by the side, and an attached table that was just barely fitted my Dell laptop.
27th Oct 2012 – Day 1 in Amsterdam
About two hours later, I was back to Amsterdam Central, that now had a lovely crisp sunny weather post the morning rains. Boarding my first cruise, I settled into the comfortable and cozy closed-top ferry boat. It wasn’t long before the charm of the waters and the city totally took over me. There was something about the clean, beautiful waters, strewn with floating yellow red autumn leaves, along with ducks and birds swimming by. I got my camera out and started clicking. I captured some beautiful shots of the waters with the mid-day sun dancing on the ripples created by the moving boat. On one of the turns as we passing a bridge, three white swans came into our view. Anticipating the right moment as the moving boat brought me to an oblique angle in which the swans appeared to be swimming in a line equidistant from each other, I captured the transient moment with one swift click of my camera. The photo remains one of my prized possession, one that I take a lot of pride in showing off to family and friends. I was in my element, catching every delight and surprise in the knick of time, as if it was all happening just for me. The beautiful morning spent on the cruise ride left me feeling like I was meant to be here, and that there was a higher power getting the universe together to give me this surreal experience. My sixth sense told me this was the start to a very fulfilling trip ahead.
A few stops later, I got off the cruise and walked along a scenic road parallel to the water. There were some chocolate shops and cute boutiques running on my other side. Entering one of them, I tried a dress I liked but shied away from spending the money and soon exited the shop. After five minutes, my gut brought me back to the boutique where I paid the 40 euros and walked out of the shop with the beautiful blue knee length dress. It was impulsive, but I am glad and dress served me really well up until this day. Coming out to the street, I met with an interesting sight as a flurry of locals rode past me on their bicycle, that I later found out to be such a quintessential aspect of the Dutch locals life in Amsterdam. As I walked ahead leisurely taking in the local sights, I saw a line forming in front of a building. Intrigued, I walked ahead and found it was the Anne Frank Museum! I had ready snippets of Anne Frank diary as a teenager, and had known the Frank family spent years in hiding in their Amsterdam house. Here it was, in front of my eyes! Without batting an eyelid, I bought myself a ticket and joined the growing queue on the street.
Seeing the Franks’ house, Anne’s room, parts of her diary and the secret Annex, etc all preserved in its original state, to best effort, was a subdued and memorable experience. There were wall-projections about the history of the house while the Franks inhabited it, and circumstances leading to their departure. Integrating with the house was a museum hall, where I bought some beautiful Anne Frank postcards in the hopes I would post them over with handwritten notes to my loved ones (dad, my best friend Sruthy were the first to come to mind). I never got around to doing it, but I suppose it is the thought and intention that matters. I still have the beautiful postcards tucked away in my 2012 Europe-souvenirs packet, that I have carried from one house to the next over the years.
With an afternoon well-spent, I was back on the street planning what to explore next. Frustrated by the long wait at the canal hop-on hop-off station, I soon realised that canal cruises, as scenic as they were, were a bummer as far as time-effectiveness was concerned. The cruise frequency at any stop was every 45 min, and not to mention the leisurely pace of the cruise that took forever to get to the next stop. So very early on, i took a call that the hop on hop off bus service would be a better if I want to make something of this trip. Not saying that I didn’t cruise for the rest of the trip. In fact, I did a lot of cruising on my last day, to some remote corners of the city that brought me to some quaint and scenic spots.
Later that evening, I walked past Leidesplein where I happened to catch a street performance. There was this impressive water-fountain I crossed, and I requested a fellow tourist (a North Indian girl on her honeymoon) to take my picture against it! For dinner, I think I grabbed a sandwich on the go and then ended the evening at a night carnival fair in Central district. I know it sounds crazy to go to an amusement fair all alone, but I did! and made quite a thing of the experience.
28th Oct 2012 – Day 2 in Amsterdam with Vahdett
The next morning, my earliest memory is coming down to the reception area and finding a little information placard on hotel’s breakfast spread for 9.90 euros. Not thinking too much into it, I paid and went digging into the Dutch spread of breads, different types of cheese, fruits and cereals. There was also a hot skillet-kind of surface where one could prepare an omelette, or egg scramble. I picked my breakfast and settled into an empty seat. These were long white tables with chairs on each side for hotel guests to sit and eat. Very soon, a gentleman took the seat right across me on the table. He greeted me with a smile and a ‘Bon Apetite’. I returned the pleasantries and we began to eat. In the course of the conversation that ensued, I learn his name was Vahdett and he was from Istanbul and a fellow traveler like me.
He asked me what my travel plans for the day were. Frankly, I didn’t mind the question as this is common among travellers. I remember telling him I wanted to do the Van Gogh museum, Hermitage and so on. Excitedly, he said “So do I! We should cover the places together”. Now, before I proceed – this is a man in his late 20’s, with a pleasant smile and a somewhat dignified disposition. But the offer took me by shock as I really wasn’t expecting (or ready) to share my day with a second person. I tried hard to deflect, but he was persistent (in a nice way), and I think I gave in eventually after one or two attempts in vain.
The day turned out pretty eventful and enjoyable. We covered a lot of ground; the Van Gogh museum at the Hermitage, a glimpse into the impressive building of National Opera & Ballet. Later in the evening, while walking along one of the roads, we crossed a Gulluoglu. Vahdett explained its a very famous chain of cafes from Turkey. We entered it on his insistence as it was a trademark restaurant from his country and in his words ‘he felt obliged to treat me’ haha. We ordered a baklava and mint tea. At that time, I had never heard of the dish before, but looking back, I feel privileged knowing that my first bite into a baklava was in the company of an authentic turk! How often can one have such an experience handed down to you by fate.
Later in the evening, we walked into a flower market that sells dutch curios, tulip bulbs and seeds. It was really colorful and exactly the kind of place I’d enjoy. Vahdett was probably tagging along out of niceness. He was really a sweet guy. Very decent and polite. I actually learnt a thing or two about Istanbul and his life there. He had (and still does) an impressive job at Mercedes Benz, and even though Istanbul falls within Europe, people living there looked forward to visiting European cities just like us lot in Asia. He shared that his he and his ex-fiance had decided to visit Amsterdam together after marriage, but then the relationship didn’t work out and they broke off the engagement. Four years on, here he was finally visiting the city for the first time.
As dusk turned into night, we joined a group of people walking towards Amsterdam’s famous Red Light district. I will be honest – I had no clue that the city had one (was too naive and uninformed those days!) but also didn’t think visiting it was such a big deal. I ,along with my university friends, had walked through Singapore’s red light district before and except for a few provocatively dressed women in excess make-up, there wasn’t anything different about the areas from the exterior. But later as we entered these historical red light streets of Amsterdam, and saw the row houses on their sides lined with glass windows behind which stood gorgeous women in exquisite lingerie, I won’t lie – I was in a state of shock and amusement. I just walked along awkwardly smiling at one semi-nude lady after another. I suppose I must have thought smiling (instead of staring, as if they were objects) would make it more respectful as I looked at them. Its hilarious when I think how my mind was fumbling with ways to make my presence more dignified. Vahdett walked ahead of me, enjoying and beholding these rare sights, I suppose. But the entire set-up was still very dignified as compared to the ones in Asia. Here, one indulged if they wanted to. Men signalled their interest to the ladies behind the glass windows and walked into the house. None of that ugly business of hookers on the streets luring or haggling prices with prospective customers. Looking back, I find it hard to believe I said yes to visiting a red light area with a guy I hardly knew. But to me, it was just like visiting any other part of the city to me, partly because Vahdett made it to be so.
We walked back to Central area, looking for options to dine at what was 9:30pm by now. We came by an Italian place across the road, that looked like they were closing for the day. Desperate for a meal, we rushed to the restaurant letting them know we were keen to dine. After a moment of thought, the manager went back to the kitchen and came back to inform us know they will be happy to restart the kitchen to serve us dinner. I am not sure if it was our good luck, or just that business was running low for the restaurant that they accepted our order beyond kitchen closing hours. Thanking them plenty, we enjoyed a meal of pizza before taking the train ride back to Sloterjidk.
Back at the hotel, we said our goodbyes as Vahdett had an early morning flight back to Istanbul. In the lift, he gave me his Mercedes Benz pen as a gift and leaned in to give a peck on the cheek with a big smile saying ‘Bye Kalyani’. And that was it. I never saw him again, but we keep in touch once in a while over facebook now.
29 Oct 2012 – Last Day in Amsterdam
I had a third half day left in Amsterdam, and was by myself again (yippee!). This turned out to be a rainy day. I recollect starting the day early with a canal ride that covered some remote corners of the city. I think we had reached the very end of the cruise, a beautiful suburban area where I alighted. I still have this visual of a hammock sort of swing hanging from one of the tree branches very close to the canal. It was an amazing sight.
A couple minutes later, I crossed a bridge and reached a small dutch windmill. Turns out the windmill was decommissioned long back, but the base of it served as a brewery now. I spent a few minutes admiring the structure. I think universally, Holland and windmills go hand in hand, and here i was staring at one. Later that day, I manged to catch a hop on hop off bus that took an interesting route covering a diamond factory, the Hieneken beer factory and a street bazaar. I did all, except the Hieneken factory. While I was on the bus (top-deck, it had stopped raining by then), I got a call.
It was Appa (dad). I paused for a bit before picking the phone, being very aware that I was just two days into the trip and my cell was on roaming. I picked up and was greeted with Appa’s comforting voice ‘ Hi molu! Whats happening?’ It struck me then that I had missed keeping him in the loop about my post-training travel plans. I replied ‘All good Appa, I am in Amsterdam right now. I am travelling for a week before heading back to Singapore’. I had firmed up my travel plans only in the penultimate week of my training and Appa and I hadn’t spoken at length since. Mind you, neither Appa nor me had whatsapp those days. So international calls weren’t such an easy thing. Contrary to what one would expect, Appa was delighted and pleasantly surprised to know I was travelling alone! I remember he said something like ‘Beti badi ho gayi’. Its just one of the reasons that make him the coolest and encouraging dad there is. Anyway, we spoke for a minute before I had to end the call to alight at my upcoming stop.
Through the light drizzle that had set in, I made my way through a busy street market with a heterogeneous mix of shops. There were food stalls, clothing, antiques, and several others. The rains made it inconvenient to traverse the whole scene, but I managed to sneak into a couple boutiques and bought myself two elegant & classy dresses. Running a quick time check then – as I had a 7:40 pm flight to Prague that evening, I gathered I had just enough time to afford one final stop before heading for the airport. Taking a city bus, I headed for the Rijksmuseum. I got there around 3:30pm to realise the museum was closed for a decade long renovation (aah if only I had a smartphone where the google search would have instantly advised me about the temporarily closure). But the disappointment was short-lived then I turned to see the iconic ‘I Amsterdam’ structure with the stunning olympic pool length water feature in front. I turned all touristy for the next half hour, posing for pics by this famous Amsterdam landmark and posting them later on Facebook đ Well, its a good thing I didn’t have a smartphone, otherwise I would have missed one of the best moments of my time in this city.
Click below on Page 2 for my Prague travelogue..
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