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!