An Adventure in Tayrona National Park, Colombia - published in Sidetracked Magazine April 2012

http://www.sidetracked.co.uk/edition-05/colombia.php

Interview with World Travel Buzz - published May 2012

http://worldtravelbuzz.com/world-travel-buzz-interview-joshua-bulpin/

Who needs reasons to travel?..... Re-Affirming some common myths.

This article is just a bit of fun, a pictorial poking of fun at some common held fears and opinions about travelling and it's pitfalls.

It can be difficult to know where the local food comes from? 

Cheap Local Accommodation is often grotty and in unpleasant surroundings? 

Can be stressful?

Local Transport is often crowded and uncomfortable?

Meeting People can be tough?

Independent travel is often lonely?

India really is this colourful - no, it really is.

There is no such thing as an authentic rural experience in a country anymore?

Father Christmas does not exist?

It is not at all about completing the adventure, but is all about the journey?

There is no ice in Africa?

Amsterdam in Pictures (WINTER/SPRING)

4 Amazing Amsterdam Eats

Amsterdam has literally thousands of places to eat, from traditional broodje bars, to highly expensive Michelin starred gourmet restaurants. Below are four of my favourite mid-range eateries. And yes, they are all, unashamedly, within a five minute cycle ride from home. But then so is almost all of Amsterdam.

Moeders,

251 Rozengracht, 1016 SX TEL: 020-626-7957 WEB: www.moeders.nl

It is actually relatively difficult to find “typical” Dutch food in the buzzing cosmopolitan city of Amsterdam. Vlaames Frites are as Dutch as a Windmill, and can be found on many a street corner or plein, but an actual restaurant serving up Stampot and other Dutch specialities is rarer than black truffles. Moeders, or Mothers in English, is a restaurant dedicated to celebrating those people who provide us with our favourite food in life – Mothers, and it honours their tradition well. On opening night the owner asked all guests to bring a plate and cutlery from home and this eclectic mix of provided tableware continues in use today, complete with provision of random wine glasses and candle sticks. Adorning the walls are pictures of what must be every Mother who has ever visited. The combined effect of these celebrated Matriarchal portraits and a motley collection of utensils, is a cosy homely feel that takes you back to the kitchen table of your childhood, and shows the visiting Mothers how well loved their day-to-day meal provision really was.

As well as perfect decor, the food is something to rival even the skills of your Mother (obviously don’t tell her that). Dutch food is hearty and wholesome, but Moeders raises famously stodgy staples to a new level. The tasting plate, Rijstaffel, provides bites of all Dutch Mother’s kitchen staples such as the famous Stampot Stew and Sudervlees. And the flavours are delicious. A lot of food yes, but all great quality and you won’t leave over full. Specials often involve seafood and the quality of the fish is outstanding, particularly the Cod. Kitchen skills are evident in their presentation of perfectly cooked fish with tasty accompaniments. Desserts too are homely specials and every dish is served by friendly, welcoming, and Mother loving staff.

If you are visiting Holland and are a little wary of diving straight in to a raw Herring experience to sample local food, a visit to Moeders will warmly welcome you into the Dutch culinary world. You will need to book due to it being a well known treasure, but you will not be disappointed, and neither will your Mother.

Cafe Schilders

1E Van der Helstraat, 1073 AC TEL: 020-670-4388 WEB: www.cafeschilders.nl

Around the Albert Kuyp Market in trendy De Pijp are a collection of interlinked small streets lined by bruin cafes, bars and restaurants. Evenings feel like a bar/street based community gathering as people move from one eat house or bar to the next. In amongst all these venues is a relative newcomer, Schilders.

Schilders means “painter” in Dutch and a huge self-portrait of the namesake painter of this bar, Ferdinand Bol, covers one wall of this 1930’s American-esque hang out. Green seats surround dark tables and along the back wall are raised tables partnered with high benches and stools. With a typically long Dutch bar one wouldn’t be surprised to see one of the rat-pack propping up the end with a bourbon and a smoke.

The Menu in Schilders is simple, but executed brilliantly. Half a Chicken (kip), Entrecote Steak, or Veggie Option (usually amazing quiche), all served with Chips, Mayonnaise and Salad. A brilliant Chocolate Torte or Apple Pie for dessert and all washed down with great Dutch beer or good, but slightly pricey, wine.

Stoop en Stoop Eet Cafe ,

Long Leidsedwarsstraat 82, 1017 NM TEL: 020-620-0982 WEB: www.stoopenstoop.nl

Situated on one of Amsterdam’s least appealing streets (unless of course you are a fan of touristic rows of neon lights advertising a world of Argentinean steak houses), Stoop en Stoop is a little unpretentious gem without a door tout and with little advertisement. If you spot it, and take a second look, you will notice that unlike its empty gargantuan neighbours, it is packed full of discerning locals. If they cannot sit you at a table, the two relaxed friendly and likeable brothers in charge will welcome you to sit and eat at the bar. 

Stoop en Stoop is a small Eet Cafe with around 8 – 10 tables. Low level lighting and traditional dark wood furniture add to the secretive yet warm feeling, and the brothers always have music playing while energetically keeping every customer smiling. In the kitchen two cooks turn out the best Dutch Steak in town, amongst other meat based dishes, and the drinks flow fluidly from their extensive bar. The skill of this Amsterdam Eat lies in its simplicity. The two young brothers are brilliantly welcoming, and they focus on a friendly atmosphere and the provision of a simple but well delivered Menu. You could wind up spending your whole Amsterdam evening here, and if you did, you would leave with a huge smile on your face brought about by good food, a great atmosphere, and a little alcoholic assistance!

Bar Moustache,

141 Utrechtstraat, 1017 VM TEL: 020-428-1074 WEB: www.barmoustache.nl

Another relative newcomer to Amsterdam’s streets, Moustache has been open for almost a year at the bottom of one of Amsterdam’s coolest streets, Utrechstraat.  This part of Amsterdam is famous for being the location of many of old Amsterdam’s merchant store houses and in one of them, resembling a slightly English town house, you will find the cafe named after that most ridiculous of facial adornments, the moustache.

Stepping in through the swinging saloon style door you immediately take a step-back from the rush you were in. Dark tables, exposed brick, comfy benches and candle light almost order you, in a fatherly way, to sit, relax - stay a while. It has two floors, both as welcoming as each other, and the tea selection is impressive.

In Moustache, aside from the uber-trendy staff, the cool ambience, and the great tea, there is one star which outshines all the other plus points - Breakfast. Not typically Dutch I know, but Moustache’s Croque Madame is the best you will ever taste. Large enough to share between two, the three layers of spiced ham, cheese, and great bread topped with a fried egg are a sure bet for a brilliant breakfast experience for any visitor, or local, to Amsterdam. Open every day for breakfast, lunch and drinks/dinner and wi-fi - Bar Moustache is fast becoming a local favourite for any time of the day.

Hot Water Bottles and Houseboats, Amsterdam

My Mother and Step-Father recently made the decision to visit our new floating home while Amsterdam was in the grip of its second cold snap of the year.  Gone were the usual trivialities based around visiting parents such as, what to feed them, where to take them, and how to kill every bit of time they were with us. These minor questions were replaced by the genuine concern:  “how do we keep them warm, and prevent pneumonia?” (Apparently the older you get, the more susceptible you become.... sorry Mum).

A peaceful idyll houseboat living may be. Waking up to crested Grebes diving in tandem pairs for breakfast, effervescent Coots chirping morning greetings to Moorhens, and aloof Swans silently preening and pouting on the mirror like canal, is certainly more of a privilege than witnessing the ordinary groanings of a city rising from its slumber. But make no mistake, these beautiful water based morning shows are best observed from a cocoon shaped, duvet and electric blanket based nest of your own. After the shows finale, usually consisting of a seagull squawk-scrapping with a fat mallard, comes the realisation that one of you must now leave the safety of your bed shaped nest and light the gas fire. If alone there is no debate. But alone or not it must be done. If not, you’ll freeze.

Keep the fire ON!

Land-Lubbers; those who have chosen to live within the more common brick and mortar based dwellings, may often look at houseboats with a pang of lust in the summer months, but it is fair to say that during the winter, this green-eyed appreciation of another’s home can often be reversed. Houseboats are drastically affected by the environment in which they float. When surrounded by cold water and cold air, they too are very cold. When hosting others as guests on a houseboat it is very easy to worry that they, who have not adjusted as you the Ship’s captain have, will suffer from a winter chill.

Despite the above, every visitor so far to our impromptu bird hide has appreciated the cosy romance brought about by the need to light the gas fire and cuddle up with a hot water bottle in the winter evenings. And mornings.  Living on a houseboat is colder than living in the houses that line the rippling green waterways. It does take a lot more effort and energy to keep warm in winter in a dwelling without central heating, in an abode wrapped in nature’s natural refrigeration system. But the necessity of enjoying battling the need to leave a cosy bed, the ritual of lighting the fire in the morning at the same time as flicking the switch on the kettle, and the shivering hop-step-jump to and from the shower, are part of what make living on a houseboat so special.

Breakfast View

Morning Visitor

My parents did not end up with pneumonia. They too revelled in the dance of the ducks in the morning, and cheerfully appreciated the simple joys of hot drinks by a toasty fire in the evenings. The night may look cold and dark outside as the canal laps just below the windows, but with a little bit of enjoyable effort, you’ll be warm and cosy on board... Until the morning dash to the fire again that is.

Two Wintry Days in Den Haag

Den Haag, on the coast south west of Amsterdam in the Netherlands, is the seat of the Dutch Government, the home of the Royal Family, and was until 1806, the capital of the Orange nation.

Boasting stunning architecture, wide tree-lined avenues, sociable town squares, hidden parks, canals, a myriad of restaurants, the UN, and a long sandy beach, it would seem this treasured little city has everything for the discerning visitor. In the winter however, despite all the above boxes being ticked, there is definitely something missing in the cosmopolitan streets of this centre of European activity.

Travelling by train from Amsterdam takes but forty five minutes, and Dutch trains being Dutch, they are on time, fast and ridiculously practical. Two floors of seating means there is none of that British style fuss over someone sitting in “your” allocated seat. The views from the train are quintessentially Dutch too; flat pasture land stretches far into the distance, dissected evenly by deliberately straight and perpendicular irrigation channels. The only breaks in this vista of man-made countryside are clapperboard windmills evoking romantic visions of a historical rural existence in these windswept flat lands. Thoroughly drawn back into the past world of Van Gogh’s romantic idyll one arrives in Den Haag with a comfortable grin and a slight reluctance at being thrust back into modern city life. This reticence is short lived however as the tram into the small centre provides stunning views of The Hague’s most famous building, The Binnenhof. By the time you step off the number 17, you are aware that this is a slower paced metropolis than Amsterdam, and will afford you enjoying city life, at a country pace.

The Binnenhof

Arriving at 9am on a Tuesday I expected to be met with the hustle and bustle of shops opening and people rushing around to their world government, or banking positions in this hub of European business and politics. I was pleasantly disappointed to find that its grand avenues were very quiet. Apparently shops in Den Haag don’t open until eleven at the earliest, and people are far more relaxed about their approach to being “on time”. I could almost feel London city suit types beginning to smoke from the ears with the thought that people didn’t arrive in offices at 5am and not leave until after 10pm at night!

I spent two cold February days in Den Haag. The old city centre has lovely small back streets. Crammed tightly with old book shops and antiques they are reminiscent of J.K. Rowlings magic streets in Harry Potter. I would not have been surprised to find little wizards purchasing their first wands from the multitude of old bearded men and wizened old ladies, marshalling their collection of curios and antique till registers with kindly smiles.

Even the stunning UN complex was at peace. The famous blue flag waved proudly in front of its grand Gothic home, and the World Peace Flame flickered silently outside the gates, while inside I imagined a buzz of activity in this time of huge unrest and difficulty throughout the world.

Wide Streets of Den Haag

The UN Flag

Den Haag is also famous for its beach, Scheveningen. In the summer thousands of Netherlanders flock to the resorts golden sands and seafood cafe’s, marking it as one of Holland’s most loved holiday destinations. This was not the case on a cold February Wednesday however. The sands were golden indeed, and provided a kind of desolate beauty in their emptiness, but the promenade was deserted, with flimsy hand written signs blown over by the strong northerly wind, rusty fairground rides lying empty and lacking in squeals of childish delight, and huge swathes of bike racks missing their bikes. Scheveningen in the summer may be the centre of tourist life, but in the winter the final tram stop at the end of the beach feels a lot like the end of the universe, and its apocalyptic greyness only adds to its beautiful desolation.

Lonely Bike Racks

Scheveningen

Desolate Promenade

The city of Den Haag is pretty and approachable and its beach in winter has an empty attraction. Despite many recommendations to visit in summer I found the wintry promenade beautiful in a lonely contended way and this is how I will fondly remember it. Den Haag’s difference to Amsterdam is the pride of its locals; their trams are red, not blue, their streets are wide, not narrow, and their restaurant seating stays outside, even in winter. Although all the tourist shops I saw paraded postcards of a sun drenched city bedecked in flowers, the February Den Haag I experienced was quietly going about its private life before the tourists of summer arrived. At first its peace and quiet was refreshing, but after a while there was a realisation that everywhere in Den Haag in winter is very very, very quiet. It did have an empty beauty to it, but it missed a sense of atmosphere, a sense of personality warmth. I am charmed enough however to give it a second chance, and will return in the summer to see if the postcard pictures really are true.

Does Social Media Aid Social Action?

Social Media seems to have become the modern “Speakers Corner”,  except with Facebook et al no one makes the effort to come and listen to judgement and opinion, they simply have it imposed upon them by “friends” or “followers”.

I am connected to a number of people through Social Media, (though possibly not after this) who seem to delight in passing judgement on all of society around them. Usually these judgements are accompanied by some link to a media story based around humankind’s ability to inflict itself upon fellow humanity whenever it sees fit, usually at the expense of minority groups/ peoples.

It is clearly very important and I am all for, being made aware of social phenomena and activity throughout the globe, and of our own individual position in world society. This is something social media can be applauded for, never before have so many people been able to so easily gain access to contemporary information on events happening around the world. However, before we simply pass around these photos and stories of events, and “share”  collective "ooh's", "aah's", "isn't that terrible!”, and “isn’t he a bad man” (he probably is); Before we simply mount high horses and judge others from our privileged saddles, let us take a moment to think "what do I actually do to affect positive change" - we can all comment, we can all sit in our computer desk swivel seats and judge... How many of us act? Really.

In tandem with this, the majority of these stories seem to aid whoever reads them in feeling a shared sense of guilt, like they are in cahoots with the “bad guy”. In most scenarios, this is not the case. It is important to remember that no one should feel guilty for their position of privilege (privileged being not starving to death, not that you attended private school), as long as we lucky few are aware of our good fortune, and of our responsibility to not simply turn a blind eye and judge others, but to do something, however little, to positively affect the lives of those who are less lucky than ourselves.

Social media is a great tool for information sharing, but let it be the catalyst for action rather than simple opinion voicing. Let it help us understand our position in society, whatever that position is, and actually “do” what we can, instead of talking about what others should do in our stead. Now, back to my easy chair to read others opinions, and to throw forth my own...

Amsterdam's Frozen Canals - Ice Skating and more...

It is the middle of winter in Amsterdam, and while bicycle and strolling tourist numbers are down during the big freeze, there is another activity drawing people to the city’s famous canals.

Amsterdammers have been ice-skating on their beautiful water-ways ever since they were constructed in their concentric semi-circular fashion.



 

On the way to work











They are serious about it. It’s not fluke. If the temperature drops below -4C for three consecutive nights the authorities take the decision to declare it “skating season”. On the 3^rd February 2012 a large number of canals were closed to boat traffic to enable significant ice to form. Since then locals have been sharpening their blades and gliding and sliding their way along large tracts of Kaizersgracht, Princengracht and Lijnbaansgracht, dreaming of recreating the feats of their four-time gold medal winning ice skater, Sven Kramer.



Heavy Traffic on the Frozen Canals



While many are closed for the ice fanatics, some are not. These are prized by the now profit losing tour boat companies and are kept clear by the port ice-breaker. Even in -7C it appears tourists want a canal boat cruise and the hardy few captains who skipper them do so muttering prayers to the sun Gods. They are the only Amsterdammers who do though. Skating on the canals is a rite of passage to the locals and the winter freeze is anticipated by many across the city. 


Quiet, Calm, and Frozen Lijnbaansgracht



Families in hand-me-down home sharpened skates, couples in matching white boots, and serious singles in long bladed racing attire arrive at the canal side at the first hint from the authorities that skating may start soon. People take it in turns to test the ice, some stamping with feet, some dropping bricks from the height of a bridge. When a canal is deemed safe, the few short evenings that stay cold enough, protecting and forming thicker ice, are filled by the community arriving after school or work and enjoying a past time as important to them as cycling in the summer. It is not uncommon to see a table and chairs brought out onto the ice, or groups of friends simply meeting on the canal for their evening drink, stroll and a chat. As with all things Amsterdam, skating, or sliding without blades, becomes a way of life.



An open canal, kept so by the Ice-Breaker's



This frozen world is a much-loved time by houseboat inhabitants too. For a brief period the canals are free from boat traffic. Calm and quiet descends over the community, broken only by the smoke streams from wood burning stoves, and the laughter of skaters outside on the boat dwellers liquid gardens. It may be the middle of winter here, but unlike Londoners who fear the cold snap, and whinge and moan about the consequences, Amsterdammers use their indomitable spirit to find a way to look forward to it, and to embrace it for all the opportunity it affords them.



Meetings Make Travel

There are certain landscapes, buildings and events in the world which are enough as a lone traveller to generate a special travel memory, to create the atmosphere you imagined when planning and setting out to see what now stands before your eyes. But, however hard these beautiful visions try, they cannot chat with you in a mix of local dialect and sign language. They cannot invite you into their homes and feed you local food. They cannot share a beer and discuss what they as the image mean to you as the travelling observer. In short, as travellers, we visit new places to see things sure enough, but it is the people we meet in our adventures that provide depth, and bring an experience to life.



"Meeting" - Being welcomed into Nepali Family



I have just finished reading Ox Travels, a collection of well known travel authors describing poignant meetings with fellow humans throughout their travel careers. The book was written in aid of Oxfam and Barbara Stocking, Chief Executive of Oxfam, herself describes her own meeting in the affecting afterword. It is a book full of beautiful description and great illustration of the point made above; the people we meet in our travels are what make time and place something a little more than just a place, at a certain time.

By no means do all of these meetings have to be hugely significant. For example, while in the small enclave of Boudha in Kathmandu, Nepal recently, I felt uncharacteristically nervous about pulling aside the common eat-house curtain and entering the world of locals drinking tea and getting their daily dose of gossip.  An elderly woman from the hills, seemingly dressed for the onslaught of a Himalayan winter (I was in jeans and a t-shirt) in her full fur outfit and hat, saw me standing outside procrastinating. Using that most human of qualities, intuition, she seemed to perceive my internal predicament; Smiling at me she swiftly pulled aside the curtain, waved me towards a seat at the communal table  and ordered me a hot tea. She then simply turned on her heel and left.  After a warming cup of Chai while enjoying the sounds of the temple’s novice monks practising debating outside, I pulled aside the curtain and stepped back onto the street. My intuitive old woman was standing in the same place as before. Smiling at me again, evidently noting the subtle improvement to my inner health, she turned and shuffled away up the street, back towards the bustling bazaar.

Technically, I hadn’t actually met this woman, but our brief encounter made a simple daily occurrence a more significant experience. In its simplicity it introduced me to the world in which I was resident for a short while, welcomed me into the culture, and is one of my fondest memories of my time in the peaceful Buddhist centre.

Boudha's back streets

In her article “The Fourth World” in Ox Travels, Jan Morris refers to this shared human intuition as a trait shared by those who believe in the simple human value of Kindness. She describes the adjective as “hazy”, but her argument rings true:  “For consider the potency of kindness. By definition it cannot be a force for evil, but it constitutes an incalculable force for good. If it can instantly bond total strangers to one another in empathy, whatever their religions or their loyalties, even a Welsh agnostic and a guru meeting near the top of the world – if it can do all this piecemeal, so to speak, just think what it could do if all its disparate energies could somehow be united!” . Taken on its own this statement could be seen as overly idealistic, but Morris is acutely aware that human beings are usually neither good, nor bad, all the time, but that we all have within us the ability to use and share simple kindness. “Places can often be bloody, and God knows so can people – but to my mind, never all of them!”

When you walk into any cafe/restaurant/eat house in the world some may say it is pot-luck whether you are met by a surly old maid who has no interest in conversation, or by a smiling gentleman eager to talk about the place he calls home. I would argue however that Morris’ argument above applies to oneself as much as to others. Even the grumpiest of barmen can be chivvied into a grin and a joke if you yourself display the fundamental characteristics of kindness. In essence, as much as it is the people we meet who make our experiences of travel, our own approach to those interactions have just as much influence on the experience.

The following day from my encounter with the fur clad woman in Boudha I returned to the same local eat-house. Pulling aside the curtain with a smile I was greeted by the owner. Feeling more confident I sat and asked a few questions and ended up sitting in the same spot for the next two hours. Pasang Llama, his wife and their two daughters were from the hills (mountains) to the East of Everest. He had worked for years as a mountain guide (hence his excellent English) but, for his children’s schooling needs, they had moved to this peaceful enclave of busy Kathmandu five years ago. They were doing well selling Thukpa soup, Roti Bread and Massala Chai and Pasang seemed to get as much enjoyment from what became regular conversations as I did. He taught me a lot about the hill people of the Himalaya, discussed the politics of his beloved Nepal, and gave me hints and tips on cultural specifics of the Tibetan Buddhist community I was staying in.

Boudha is undoubtedly a special place, with stunning architecture, hill people in similar dress to that of a hundred years before, and Buddhist Monasteries resonating in the sounds of ancient chanting, crashing symbols, and bellowing horns. All of this is wonderful to see, as proved by the tour coach loads of tourists who arrive every morning at 11am for a one hour walk around the stupor and its surrounding temples. I too took joy from seeing the beauty of the community, but it was my two “meetings” with the people who lived here that brought the place to life, that stopped me standing outside and observing, and welcomed me in to their world as a participant as well as a visitor.

A brief history of Amsterdam's Canals

Up until the late 13^th Century, Amsterdam was but a small fishing village. By the 17^th Century, the Dutch East India Company was the piratical galleon based version of the modern US Government, dominating and manipulating world trade. Their home port was Amsterdam.

With such global success and economic boom came a huge increase in migration from all over Europe, and a dramatic increase in wealth among the middle classes. This period in Amsterdam’s history is known as “The Golden Age”. With so many people, and so much money pouring into the city, some deliberate planning was necessary, the Singelgracht Moat around the old port town boundaries had long been broached, and the population was spreading over the surrounding swamps.

What followed was the largest deliberate city planning scheme yet witnessed in the world. The work begun in 1613 led to what we now in 2012 still get to see and love, Amsterdam’s famous canal belt.




CITY PLAN

 

UNESCO state that the reclamation of swamp land and systematic city development of three concentric half circle canals allowed the “creation of a homogenous urban development”.  By constructing the canal system the city authorities created nearly ninety islands, on which Amsterdam’s famous Gable ended houses were constructed. I agree, these may look similar, but the effect of ostentatious 17^th Century Architecture built alongside narrow canals, overhung by leafy trees and dissected by over 1200 little hump-backed bridges feels anything but homogenous.

CANALS of AMSTERDAM

The canals we have chosen to live on are known as “The Venice of the North” and throughout the year tourists flock to this city of bikes and barges to cycle the streets or take a boat tour along the famous waterways. From the old central port and the Singelgracht the first of the concentric canals is called Herengracht, which translates as the Gentleman’s Canal. Second is Keizersgracht, this is the Emperors Canal. It is the widest of the three and is named after Maximilian I of Rome. The third is called Prinsengracht, the Prince’s Canal. There are many interlocking waterways between these three and others have since been opened up around the former working class area of Jordaan and in the East of Amsterdam. But, it is these three main canals making up central Amsterdam, which most people flock to enjoy.

The Golden Age of The Dutch East India Company may be long gone, but the economic boom which forced the most ambitious city planning scheme of that period produced one of the world’s prettiest cities. The 100 kilometres of canals and 1200 bridges of Amsterdam are being enjoyed every year by more and more visitors and residents. And for 2,500 lucky people, they get to live on the canals themselves, in one of Amsterdam’s famous Houseboats.

Renting in Amsterdam

So, we knew the reasons why we wanted to move to Amsterdam, we had made the commitment to try, and now we needed somewhere to live. We were firmly set on living the dream of a Canal Life, on one of the ‘Dam’s famous houseboats. Many people advised us it was incredibly hard to find one as an ex-pat, but we were determined, and ultimately successful. Below is my experience based advice on how to go about it.

Firstly, find temporary housing, and then take your time to look. Many people say that London is a difficult and expensive place to rent. This is true, but, Amsterdam is even harder. As a non Dutch speaking ex-pat you can feel trapped into using one of the city’s Makelaars, or Estate Agents. In London the Landlord is responsible for paying the commission to the agent for renting their flat. In Amsterdam, ex-pat tenants are charged, on top of their rent and deposit, one month’s rent as a commission. If you do not have time to look at, and learn the other options as an outsider, this may be the only way to find your home in Amsterdam. It will usually mean you compromise on what you would like to live in, pay over the odds for a home only targeting ex-pat tenants, and incur the ridiculous commission levied by the Makelaars. Privately you will find somewhere nicer, you won’t have to shell out a month’s rent to the upstarts who open the door for you, and invariably the monthly rent will be cheaper.  To achieve this we rented a room in a shared flat while looking – these are easy to find on line at Craigslist Amsterdam, it may take a little more time and effort, but it will be worth it in the end.

After making some great friends with local knowledge we were directed to a few local websites used by the Dutch; rooftracker.nl and elynx.nl. These sites are used by private landlords to advertise good accommodation, and very often the prices are far less than the properties targeting the ex-pat community. Elynx.nl is particularly good for houseboats, which are few and far between (there are only 2,500 in Amsterdam). Amsterdam really is a city that works on a “who you know” basis, get to know people, tell them what you’re looking for and you never know what might turn up.

The above advice focuses on how to find any home in Amsterdam. When you find the one you want, and you like the landlords (as a private tenant you need to like and trust your landlord), sign your contract and pay your deposit, any delaying will cost you, as if you like it, so will others. At this point I should mention a couple of points on Dutch tenancy agreements. 1. They automatically renew unless two months advance written notice is given and 2. There is no such thing as a break clause.

Houseboats are far less common than flats in Amsterdam and for this reason the first thing you must do to find one is keep your eyes and ears open. Rarely do houseboats become available on ex-pat websites as most owners know of many people who will rent it from them without them having to advertise it. The houseboat community is strong and, as alluded to above, word of mouth is the tool of choice in Amsterdam. With this in mind make sure you talk about your search. The Dutch, as a rule, are a direct bunch, and they will have no problem letting you know if they do, or do not know of anyone who may be able to help.  When you are walking the beautiful canals of Prinsengraacht etc. Keep your eyes open for “Te Huur” (for rent) signs hanging on the railings on in the windows of boats.

When you see one advertised on line or on the street, or find out about one from a contact, go and view it asap, it may be the only one that comes up for a while. We were very lucky, we missed out on one by delaying for one day. Clouded in our disappointment we learned of another one only twenty four hours later. We viewed it the next evening and having learned once the hard way, agreed to rent it there and then. By the next night we had signed the contract and paid our deposit and celebrated our time and effort paying off.

Now, all there is to do is enjoy life on an Amsterdam Canal. More to follow....

Why Amsterdam?

“Gui Dag”, “Astublief” These  are the morning words of habit in the new city Michelle and I have decided to call home. “But why?” many people ask, and “what’s it like up-rooting and changing everything?” There is no quick answer. As newcomers to the specific environment of Houseboat living on the Canals this blog aims to look at what it’s all about.

Six months ago Michelle and I decided we were finally ready to try something new. We had lived in our flat in London for three years, and both of us were ready to take the opportunity to make a real stab at what we wanted to do with our lives, to find fulfilment before we did the whole marriage, kids and a house full of Kath Kidson thing.

Very quickly we quit the rat race, rented out our London home, and four weeks after making the decision and some tearful farewells to well-loved friends, we filled a rental van with our worldly belongings bound for my Mother’s loft in rural Suffolk. A couple of days later we boarded a plane bound for Croatia – Europe is hot in the summer so we decided to check out some of its treasures before ending up in our European city of choice; Amsterdam. Having visited a few times already we both loved the canal/cafe culture of the bicycle based society and we had decided it was here we wanted to try living.

What followed was a series of reality checks, and a few difficult moments. But, sat here with the beautiful power of hindsight, we know it could have been much harder. By making decisions positively and together our life is blossoming in the flat lands of Holland, in the Netherlands unique mix of liberalism and innate conservativism.

Alluded to before, the first thing one needs to purchase to begin your cultural assimilation in Amsterdam is a bicycle, something every Amsterdammer worth their salt uses as an extension of their body. It is amazing what people in this city can do while riding a bike; talk on a mobile phone, use an umbrella, transport multiple children, gesticulate wildly at pedestrians/motor vehicles, and dress immaculately. These feats are not done separately either; they do all these things at the same time!

Locals call “The ‘Dam”, as it is affectionately known, the best village in the world, and it does feel like that. Away from the tiny central zone which is dominated by stumbling, mumbling, legally stoned, Brit parties of young men transfixed by hot young ladies in red windows, Amsterdam is a place loved by its residents. Tall gable ended houses line up jovially along slow moving beautiful canals, the lines broken only by picturesque humped back bridges spanning the narrow, relaxing waterways. When the sun comes out tables and chairs cover all available space and people stop to chat, enjoy a good cold beer, or an equally good coffee, and watch the world go by on its plethora of bikes. When it rains Amsterdam is served by a myriad of local eat houses, and people congregate to warm themselves with Chocomel, Cake, and company.

It also feels different to other cities because of the proximity of very rural countryside. From Central Station you can take your bike on a free ten minute ferry crossing to Ijmeer, cycle for half an hour along the dyke, and soon you are in rural flat-land Holland, complete with Windmills, oldy worldy pubs, and locals looking at you strangely through half-closed eyes.

It’s for all the reasons above that we chose to live in Amsterdam. We also made a conscious decision to pursue living on a houseboat.

This blog aims to offer insight into the world of Canal dwellers in Europe’s village Capital, and to look at life in Amsterdam in general. Tune in for eating recommendations, exhibition info, photos, stories and advice through experience!

My next entry will focus on tips and advice on how to navigate the tricky rental market in Amsterdam, and particularly on how to get a houseboat without being fleeced by agents who are far more Sharky than their London counterparts!