Canals, cheese and cycles

And a kak load of that I got with the Christmas visit to Amsterdam and the surrounds recently. Such much of cheese. And canals. And bicycles. Every. Where. You. Look. My lovely friend Little Miss Gerbil was sweet enough to loan out her flat in the lovely Spaarndammer area of the dam, with yummy Moroccan bakeries and veggie/vegan restaurants in the area (one being Zaal 100). She left us 2 trusty bicycles to explore with (this is usual apparently for Hollanders to have more than one bike..!), and off we went. The dam pretty much looks as it was since my last visit many moons ago, with streetart, millions of bicycles, Rembrandt masterpieces still as breathtaking as ever, with a few new additions of romantic couples dancing to street buskers, pesto cheese, even more design studios, and a lovely light show across the city added to it over Christmas.

Cycling away from the city is super easy (once you manage to find your way out of Amsterdam that is). The Dutch are amazing that way, they have clearly marked out cycle routes linking their cities together, so really, you could explore the whole country on a bicycle. So off we went towards Marken, a little island to the north east of Amsterdam, as well as Monnickendam,Volendam and Edam (because I have an obsession with cheese and it felt fitting to go there). Like so many of Holland's lovely towns, Edam has authentic 17th century architecture, gables, squares, bridges and monuments, old streets and quiet canals, one can easily imagine what it was like centuries ago. Big on shipbuilding there too. I'd recommend stopping off at the local pubs and having a chat with locals. Dutch people are nice that way.We met a man warming up on gluwein, who just caught a fish for his supper.

A 15 minute train ride to the left of Amsterdam is Haarlem, tulip bulb-growing district for centuries bearing the nickname Bloemenstad (flower city) and owner of De Adriaan, one of the many windmills we were to see! Yes we even went to Zaanse Schans, the somewhat Disneyland of windmills. Some of them are still in working order too, the ultimate environmentally-friendly factory, some still saw wood and press oil. We met one of the workers of the mill at a little granny's place along the windmill stretch, selling gluwein for €1, the best bargain we had found to date. He mentioned that the moment the mills 'retire' they rot, so it's best to keep them working.

And to top it all off, we were invited to a Christmas lunch by a pair of little Miss Gerbil's friends, where I met the prettiest snow leopard named Lux. Yes, total strangers invited us over for Christmas. That's how awesome Dutch people are.

Christmas away from home

Yessir, it's been a year since moving from South Africa to London, and with that comes the first Christmas away from the family, over-indulgent Polish meals, warm December holidays by the coast, and quiet Gauteng streets. Instead I got the madness that is Oxford Street during the festive season, GIANT-ass baubles in Covent Garden, Winter Wonderland carnival rides in Hyde Park (which is a seasoned highlight for the capital every year apparently), vomiting elf lights (as part of this year's Marmite Christmas lights in central), an excursion to see Harrod's window display, a Christmas tree made out of whiskey barrels, but no snow. Sigh. Still a much colder Christmas than I am accustomed to...

Górki Wielkie

As I have some time on my hands in the New Year, I can post some more pics from my Poland trip from last year. I got to meet up with the mama, where she reunited with friends she had not seen in 30 years. They live in Górki Wielkie, in the province of Silesia, Poland, where I was born, and staying there in their home filled with trinkets from their Indian travels and beyond, I came across beautiful painterly portraits done by their one daughter, saw quiet photos of the pope, met a boy who loves to walk with his owner every morning through the woods to get fresh milk from the diary nearby, stumbled upon tucked away tree alters, picked blueberries fresh off an obliging hill,and ate wonderful home-cooked meals including first, second and third śniadanko (breakfast) every day, cycled through quiets forests and towns, visited a snow slope waiting for winter, and watched the seasons slowly change. As Thoreau always eloquently puts it, we can never have enough of nature.

Belgian type porn

Not that I am a fan of grey and rain on any given day (I get my fill from living in London), but visiting Brussels and Antwerp on a rainy November weekend with Mr Handsome had its fair share of visual treats. Namely typography. Lots and lots of sexy retro typography. Who would have thunk that chip/frituur shops could look that classy?

You can travel around these bite-size cities easily on a bike (Antwerp has city-run bike schemes similar to Boris's Barcleys Bikes), I would ask the hotel to stay at to rent one out for you, much cheaper than going through a private bike company. Unless it rains. Then you dash into a coffeeshop and order a hot chocolate which you make yourself (yes, they give you blocks of Belgian chocolate and a steaming cup of milk and off you go!). Albeit the weather wasn't the best, but the buildings are old and lovely (and skew), Belgian beer is sublime, the streets are cobbled and echo, and if you are lucky, you can wander into the main square with a lone flutist playing up from one of the windows to passersby. Just for the hell of it.

Back to Motherland

A few weeks back I was lucky enough to see my mom after 10 months since the grand move to London. We met up in Katowice, and where I saw some rad typography (especially like the flag allusion on the blinds).

I ate some things I shouldn't have (they're called rurki, wafers stuffed with cream)

I saw the usual decrepit, soot-covered buildings that I see every time I go back to where I was born.

We went to a puppet show, where we were the oldest parent-daughter combo there.

 I nom-nomed on my bestest, fresh blueberries every day.

We also went to Górki Wielkie, where my mom reunited with old family friends she hadn't seen for 30 years. That balcony is their view of the mountains, enclosed with sweet grape vines.

 I came across some eye-brow-raising memorabilia and caved taverns in the mountains.

 In Poland I realised all you need is beer and God (and fruit juice).

And that you get soup in loaves of bread.

I walked in forests whose trees were getting ready for winter, reveled in the beauty that is Polish folk art, and ate mushrooms picked from behind our house. 

Back in Katowice, I also sifted through some old family photographs. Found some old ones of my sister and me, and my mom and dad looking uber-trendy with their shades. What a treat.

London in black and white

There's really something about film that captures the spirit of a second that in my mind that digital can't. It's that spirit of waiting to see what you tried to capture a while ago, it's about not getting what you want immediately.. It's about putting thought into the creative process, and looking forward to the end result. It's a good tool to teach patience and curiosity.