Holland: Part 1

Sunset over Salisbury Crags (Edinburgh)

I looked down at my passport picture and tried to imagine myself the day it was taken. Fredericksburg in May: biking everyday, eating right, drinking too much, but perhaps most definitively, locked in a paranoid spiral of impending societal doom. Energy sustainability, omni-corporatization, and a lost election had gripped my chest everyday. I looked tougher then, but older now. I look over at Charlotte. Her eyes are closed to off-set the turbulence: we'll be landing soon. We break the clouds and I can see canals carving through the muted fields and farmhouses. Touchdown Amsterdam. Virginia Tom, meet Dutch Tom...It's going to be a great weekend.

My friends Charlotte and Julia were returning to their home University in Utrecht to take some exams, but were able to spend a few days to introduce me to life in Holland. Utrecht is a small city about 40 km south east of Amsterdam. After a thirty minute train we arrived at Julia's house from the airport. Most of her roommates were drinking tea and studying around the house, swimming in the all too familiar pre-exam malaise. After making lunch, we cycled to the city center. After four weeks of being away from my bike, it was a dream to be back in the saddle, a slightly shorter less stable saddle. There must be twice as many bikes as cars in Utrecht; even the doctors and lawyers smoothly glide along the flat bike lanes. It's very peaceful and a general refelction of the Dutch disposition. They project an aura that seems to say, "if we all stay rational and civilized everything's going to be just fine." These people stand on escalators after all.

Julia

Central Utrecht certainly has its urban features: large department stores, larger crowds, garbage etc. But the absence of cars combined with the tranquility of the canals and stunning architecture stirred a voice inside me and said, "This is the way people should live." Every good and service is accessible and affordable. The people move about with efficiency and grace, not to mention the overall beauty of the scene.

Not exactly my Lemond

After exploring for a few hours, Julia and I cycled to Charlotte's house for dinner. She lives in a kind of a sorority in a townhouse with seven other girls and all but one joined us at the kitchen table for an incredible fondue with French bread, loads of fresh vegetables and of course a few bottles of wine. We talked international relations some, but the conversation mainly revolved around friends, parties, relationships, school, the universal youth interests. I made a lot of friends and they laughed at my jokes: pretty tough to beat.

Central Utrecht

We camped out at two tables in a small bar in the city center for the rest of the night. Remarkably, about twenty of Charlotte and Julia's friends joined us at varying intervals. I talked cinema with one, stereotypes with another. It was difficult to keep track of the beers as they're served in quarter-liter glasses, much smaller than the pints to which I'm accustomed. Even though I enjoy the comfortable weight of a tall pint, it seems slightly barbaric when compared to the cute glasses of Holland. Three a.m. came and went and it was time to cycle home. "It'll be good to get some rest," I thought to myself as I glided past the sleepy cottages of Utrecht. I crossed a canal bridge and noticed the lights wavily reflecting the streetlamps, their blurry beams rotating as I sped by. "I am going to Amsterdam tomorrow, after all."