Amy & Deb's Visit

Last weekend we had the pleasure of hosting Amy, a friend of mine from back home, and her friend Deb, for a few days. We took the opportunity to do some touristy things, show off our knowledge of walking routes, and go back to the delicious Chinese restaurant we discovered a few weeks ago.

Amy arrived on Friday evening, having left Deb to spend some quality time with her family back in Wales. We did our usual Friday night tradition of heading to the local pub and then home for Toby's homemade pizza in front of a movie. I always apologise to guests that they have to follow our Friday night routine (pretty much unchanged for the past 4-5 years) but funnily enough no one has ever complained.

The next morning Amy and I headed into the city for some proper shopping. Unfortunately Amy had left all her T shirts in London which sadly meant she needed to re-stock. I had to buy a new Edinburgh friendly coat and we absolutely had to buy the sparkly red shoes with bows on them that were only 5 pounds. We decided it was ok to buy the same shoes, because we live in different countries. (And did I mention they were 5 pounds.) We met up with Toby for lunch at Chocolate Soup where we had to try the Chocolate Dunk - essentially a little tub of thick chocolate served with a wedge of shortbread which you dipped into it. You could feel your teeth rotting on the spot. Although it had rained all morning it began to clear up after lunch, which was lucky as our next stop was Edinburgh Castle (via the Royal Mile and the fudge shop of course).

Me and Amy in some box outside the castle. Note the new coats. The castle proved to be less a castle and more a village of very impressive buildings dating from the 1400s onwards.

The thing that really hits you about the castle is the incredible views, all 360 degrees of them. It's all very strategic (although as Toby says, considering there's a Union Jack flying on the roof, it didn't work very well).

This is the cemetery for officers' dogs, on a terrace above one of the big squares.

We also got to see the Scottish Crown Jewels (which Amy assured us were much less impressive than those she'd seen at the Tower of London a few days earlier), the Royal Hall, the room where King James was born, and the cellars where hundreds of soldiers hid during a months-long siege (a lot of them died, unsurprisingly).

After the castle we headed home to rest our feet and sample some of the fudge before making ourselves beautiful for our night out, which I had planned with the help of one of the party girls at my office. First stop for the night was Chop Chop, for the dumplings and other delicious things. Then we walked into the city to Tonic, a bar which had been recommended to me for its amazing cocktails. And it absolutely delivered.

Amy drinking a Bellini, one of our favourite cocktails which we had to have in honour of our mates back home. The thing about this Bellini that was so special was it was made with MOET. Amy decided this was definitely a highlight of her trip. It was really delicious. The next one we tried was a Silver Mercedes, a vodka cocktail made with orange sorbet that was brilliant. It was around this point that Amy fell in love with the cute, flirty barman who I thought was Irish but apparently he's Glaswegian.

Toby was less impressed by his cocktails (and the bar staff).

After Tonic we headed to Lulu, where Toby decided it was time to go home. It was a fantastic club full of beautiful people, with enough seats for everyone and a very funky dancefloor where the ceiling was only about 6 foot high and covered with tiny lights, and the floor was very Saturday Night Fever. The music wasn't daggy enough for us (no singing possible) but we had a good boogie anyway.

Note Amy's fab new shoes. I bought the same, as well as another pair in grey. After we'd had enough at Lulu we decided to head back to Tonic for a nightcap and so the barman could fall in love with Amy. Unfortunately it was shut so we headed home for hot chocolate and toast, because we are nanas at heart.

The next morning we slept in, spoke to parents on the phone, ate pancakes cooked by Toby, and went for a wander through the Meadows, Greyfriar's Kirk churchyard, and the Grassmarket which are some of my favourite spots in Edinburgh. After a coffee we headed home to rest and await Deb's arrival. Sunday night we ate Mexican food and watched plenty of TV, because we were all tired from our big night before. On Monday I had to get up and go to work, while the rest of the house took the train to Glasgow and then visited the Botanic Gardens. After work we met up for yet another drink at Tonic, where the barman was on duty but perhaps didn't recognise Amy without all her finery. Since Tuesday was Deb's birthday we celebrated with greasy Chinese from the local takeaway, Irn Bru (Scotland's national drink) and chocolate mudcakes. Poor Deb had a cold and probably didn't feel like eating any of it, but she was a very gracious guest.

Very quickly, the following exciting things are happening for us in the next 2 weeks:

• Toby starts his new job tomorrow, doing IT for Scottish Gas. After 4 months away from work I think he is somewhat daunted by the idea of having to get out of bed, get dressed, and properly interact with society.
• I start a new job myself on Tuesday. After weeks of feeling unchallenged, unappreciated and lonely in my job I decided I couldn't take any more and started looking elsewhere. I have been offered a long-term position at Scottish Widows, which sounds like a punk goth band but is actually a financial investment company. It's not a reception position, it's a bit more money, and it's close to home and the gym so I'm feeling quite positive about it. Also I'm starting with 2 other temps which I figure gives me an immediate support group. It's meant to be quite a social area. I'm looking forward to the change.
• We are going to Paris for 3 days, for my birthday. I feel like the Beckhams (sans the private plane and suite at the Hilton of course).
• I am going folk dancing, and to some other meeting for something, thanks to Elle who I went to high school with and have since discovered (thanks to Facebook) is also living in Edinburgh. We had a coffee yesterday and she confirmed that Edinburgh is a place where it is difficult to get to know people, and it is expensive to live here. So it's not just me. It was nice to see a friendly face and chat with someone who really understood. She had some great ideas for things to do and has also inspired me to look into an evening class I could do, rather than relying on work to meet people which is never a good idea.
• We are going to plan a Highlands trip soon.
• We are starting to plan Christmas, and our trip to Berlin for New Years.

Well that's about it from us. It's been a really quiet weekend, to recover both physically and financially from the excitement of last weekend. It's time to clean the bathroom, iron clothes, and do other things to get ready for the week. Lots of love to those at home who are sweltering in Canberra's unseasonable hot, dry weather. I promise we would send you some of this rain if we could.

A Day At The Seaside

2 weeks ago we got the bus out to Portobello, Edinburgh's seaside village. We got the bus from just outside our house and it took about 40 minutes to get there. It's a beach in the same way Glenelg or St Kilda are beaches - rather flat, unexciting surf, but proper sand and definitely a nice spot for a weekend walk. Here's Toby looking rather chilly.

Along the promenade. There's far less pubs than you would expect (and hope for).

There are some cool old buildings though, I assume left over from the days when Portobello was the playground for Edinburgh's wealthier residents (until post World War II when they realised they could go to Europe cheaply).

The funny thing that happened at Portobello was when we decided we were hungry and that only fish and chips would do. Surprisingly enough we could only find one place on the promenade, staffed by a Chinese family. They also sold plastic beach equipment, like kites and buckets and spades. It was all very British. Considering their shop was about 10 metres away from the water, they had a rather limited choice of seafood (haddock, deep fried - and that's all) but we ordered it anyway. When it was ready we were asked if we wanted brown sauce. This is a very British thing, it's basically brown and runny and salty. I'm not sure what the point is. I said no sauce but I'd take some lemon. The man serving me told me that you only got lemon in the restaurant next door. I couldn't help it but I burst out laughing. I didn't know what to say, this British fish and chip shop run by Chinese people on the beach with only one kind of fish and no lemon? They were either insulted by our laughter or realised how ridiculous that rule was, but they made a special exception for us and we were both blessed with a single lemon wedge each. Oh, bliss.

A Day In Photos

Before I do an entry to update everyone on all the Edinburgh excitement we've been having lately I'm going to put some pictures up that I promised my father recently - an idea of the views and buildings that I've been seeing every day, as I go about the usual business of working, lunching, gymming, etc. Just something a bit different to the usual tourist snapshots.

This a shot of the roofs of the New Town all the way down to the Firth of Forth, as seen from the top of Hanover Street near my work. The photo absolutely doesn't do this amazing view justice...I really love it and always take a moment in the mornings to appreciate it.

Thistle Street, where my office (with the dark grey doorway) is (complete with a couple of colleagues taking their early morning smoko). If I'd taken this photo 6 weeks ago it would have been free of scaffolding and industrial waste bins. Oh well. Considering we live in a fairly new development I love that I work on such an old cobbly laneway. In the other direction Thistle Street is full of pubs, restaurants and some very fancy boutiques. A nice spot for window shopping.

One thing I truly love about Edinburgh is how you can walk past the same building or spot day after day and then suddenly you see it from a different angle and it takes your breath away. This building here is one I walked past at least twice a day for weeks, always thinking it was a fancy kitchenware shop (which it is). Then one day I happened to look up as I was coming out of a deli on the opposite corner and realised that it's actually the old Society of Edinburgh building, and quite magnificent even without the fancy silicon muffin tins. Cool.

The two places where I normally buy my lunch. Henderson's is an Edinburgh institution, a vegetarian place that's been around since the 1970s. I'm pretty sure it's still the same menu - there are some very daggy things like spinach burgers and felafel in there. Next door you can get brilliant soup for the bargain price of 1.60 a cup.

Once I've bought my daggy lunch I normally walk back down Hanover Street to the Princes Street Gardens. The day I took my camera I had this little thing for company which was just too cute for words.

This is my usual spot for lunch, if it's a fine day, where I can eat and read the paper and (hopefully) finish the sudoku as well. When there are no benches left I usually sit on the concrete steps under the statue. I have featured in several tourists' snapshots of the statue, trying to keep myself nice by not flashing too much leg or having a big mouthful of sandwich.

After work I generally get the bus to the gym. This is the view from the bus stop on Princes Street, down into the gardens. Beats Civic bus interchange, that's for sure. You can also see the castle from this spot (well, from almost anywhere in Edinburgh really).

We might have shown this one before...on the way back from the gym we pass Dalry Cemetary, a lovely old overgrown place which I still love the look of. I don't know who lives in the house, it could be caretakers but from the look of the graves they don't take a whole lot of care.

Next installment will be a bit more newsworthy, I promise.

Amsterdam photos

Patience is not my strongest virtue, and because it takes a really long time to put together nice, good-looking entry complete with photos, I've done it separately. And chronologically backwards.

De Waag, originally built as a city gate in the 1400s. It was later used as an execution site and holding cell for criminals. Now it's - what else - a restaurant.

People probably thought we were odd, taking a picture of a kebab shop. But hey.

Amsterdam is full of crooked houses, apparently so that stuff could be dragged up from the canals on ropes without knocking into walls. But this house was crooked in a different way - the left side almost looks folded.

Canal house boats. Cool.

Our hotel room opened into a little courtyard. Then you could take the stairs up to a big wall that overlooked the junction of canals by the hotel - this is one of the views.

Me being a stupid tourist, getting ready to buy some clog slippers.

A good idea of what the red light district is like - bright, garish and unapologetic, but surrounded by cute typical Amsterdam ideas, like red shutters over attic windows.

Another canal shot. Amsterdam is a really colourful city, especially compared to Edinburgh which is basically a city comprised of different shades of grey.

Amsterdam was full of tempting bakeries, something we took full advantage of. This was the most impressive one we saw.

The concert hall, just across the road from the Museumplein. I was particularly taken by the gold harp on the roof.

Toby outside the Van Gogh museum, embarrassed because I made him stand in front of the murals like some kind of tourist.

A giant chess set that's actually being used.

Amsterdam, Day Two

After the excitement of our Saturday night we slept in on Sunday morning, then checked out of the hotel and went breakfast hunting. We went to the bakery from the day before, but it was shut. Everything was shut, even the Aldi. Things were getting hungry, and cranky, and we finally found a corner bar/café a bit like Tilley’s which had a single breakfast dish on the menu (cruesli with fruit and yoghurt). And Twinings tea. So we sat in the sun and ate cruesli and tea, and apple cake with whipped cream which for some reason Toby felt the need to order. Sitting in the sun was an important part of this, because the day before it had rained non-stop for 12 hours. It was nice to be dry and not avoiding umbrellas all the time.

After breakfast we hopped on another tram until we started getting paranoid about ticket inspectors, because we hadn’t figured out how to buy tickets. The plan was to drop our luggage off at central station so we didn’t have to lug it around all day. We found the station ok, and we found the lockers ok. They were all full. Hundreds of them. Full. We wandered around for a little while until we realized we looked as stupid as all the other tourists with their luggage, wandering all around. What were we waiting for? The five Contiki tours to come back and empty their lockers? Luckily we’d taken small backpacks so it wasn’t difficult to carry them around.

The next stop after the station was Anne Frank’s house, our 2nd museum choice and my number one priority for Amsterdam (Toby’s number one priority had obviously been fulfilled the night before). The walk from the station was through more lovely streets, across more lovely canals, to a fairly swish residential area in the west of the city. There was a long line to get in, as expected, and a few moments of frustration when we noticed a sign saying that there was no cloak room in the museum and large backpacks were not allowed. The sign very helpfully suggested leaving your luggage at central station. Not being particularly keen on seeing the museum (and not really even knowing who Anne Frank was), Toby thoughtfully offered to wait outside with our backpacks while I did the tour without him. Luckily that wasn’t necessary – we put our massive backpacks on our fronts and were let in with no troubles. After negotiating the tiny stairways and rooms of the museum I could see another reason to leave a backpack behind. Considering the museum had room for a large gift shop and restaurant I think they could spare some space for a cloak room. Anyway.

We got some brochures and read through them first; Toby figured out who Anne Frank was and got a bit of the story before we went in. The museum had been really well put together and it was an incredibly moving experience to be in that space with such an extraordinary story. Well, it seems an extraordinary story; in reality it’s just one story out of millions. Amsterdam’s Jewish community did not do well in the war; something like only 1 in 16 actually survived. I read a quote in the museum from someone asking if it was a shame that people felt so connected to Anne Frank’s story when so many other stories were unknown or forgotten; their answer was no, because so many stories would be too overwhelming.

The museum started at the doorway that had been covered up by a bookshelf to keep them all hidden, up the tiny staircase to the tiny rooms. It was incredible to think of those families sharing such a small space, not making any noise or breathing fresh air. They had some videos, including of interviews with people involved with the Frank family. One was one of the women who worked with Mr Frank. When she told the story of how he had called her into his office early in the war and told her his family was thinking of going into hiding in the office building, and would she help him, I was so struck by what a huge ask that was of your employees, and by her complete, unquestioning generosity when she said ‘yes, of course.’ She can’t have been older than I am now.

On the walls and the glass cases showcasing items connected to the story there were quotes from Anne’s diary, which wasn’t on display although they had a facsimile of it. The room Anne had shared with one of the others was still decorated how she had it; covered with movie posters and pictures of the royal family. It was a stark reminder that you were in a teenager’s room. In Peter’s room, which was also a corridor, they had the board game he’d been given for his 16th birthday while they were in hiding. There was one of the yellow stars that Jewish people had been forced to wear. It was big. They hadn’t been allowed to ride their bicycles either; anywhere else that might not have seemed such a big deal but Amsterdam is bikes. There was no real furniture apart from the items on display – it had all been removed when the family left, and anyway the space was so small you wouldn’t want there to be furniture anyway.

Moving out of their hiding space the museum showed the photos of all the people who had been there – only Anne’s father survived. They had other photos of ‘round-ups’ of Jews in the streets of Amsterdam, and a book of over 100 000 names of people who died, opened to the page where Anne was listed.

Coming out into the lovely sunshine, the street was as normal as ever. I was so glad we’d bothered to find the house and line up, and I think Toby ended up glad we were allowed in with our backpacks as well. It was a whole other side to Amsterdam.

Then it was time for lunch, which we had in a pub nearby. It was all well and good until the entire family who worked in the pub took a smoko at the same time, sitting at a big table in the middle of the room. Grrrr. Toby had another pancake and I had a burger, and a half pint of Amster beer which I assumed to be a local brew. After lunch we decided to look into getting a canal tour; we’re not normally ones for organized tours but it seemed a good way to see the city from a different view point and rest our feet at the same time. Unfortunately the ticket options for the canal bus didn’t suit us. The options were a day pass for 18 euros each – a bit much considering we only wanted a couple of hours – or an hour pass for 11 euros each which seemed cruel when all the trips lasted at least 90 minutes. In the end we decided to do some shopping since I wanted a pair of clog-slippers I’d seen around the place. A terribly tacky thing to buy, I know, so unashamedly touristy, but I needed a pair of slippers anyway, because I’m a nana, and these seemed a good option. I found it extraordinary how many tourists were milling around the shops; all those lovely canal streets had been practically empty, except for the locals walking their dogs and kids and having Sunday lunch, and yet here were all these British and Americans buying exactly the same stuff they buy at home. And we were right there with them. We also went to visit De Waag, which we had seen in the dark the night before without realizing what it was. We had an early, very ordinary dinner at a Chinese restaurant (that didn’t even serve spring rolls) in the red light district (yes, Toby had to have just one more look) before getting on the train back to the airport.

We were on a bigger plane this time and managed to walk almost straight from the arrivals hall onto the bus, which dropped us a few minutes’ walk from our house. We were home 45 minutes after landing. The whole trip felt very easy and manageable; I barely struggled at all to get out of bed the next morning and head to work. It was an excellent reminder as to why we uprooted our Canberra lives and took up residence in this chilly, dreary place where you can’t even buy Milo or a decent can-opener.

Amsterdam: Day One

Our Amsterdam adventure started on Friday afternoon. I left work at 4:45 and walked a whole 5 minutes down to the bus stop for the airport bus, which goes past our house on its way. The idea was for Toby to jump on it later, bags in tow. Of course such a simple plan was bound to go astray as it did when Toby went to the wrong bus stop (on my advice). We arrived at the airport only 5 minutes apart so it was a small error. We were 2 hours early - I had envisaged a Friday night crush at the airport, full of Scots trying to escape for the weekend. I was pleasantly wrong, we hardly lined up at all and had time for a usual Friday night drink at the bar before the flight, which was delayed as they always are when you're early. The plane was tiny, like what you get on a Sydney to Canberra flight, and it wasn't a very nice trip. I only like flying as long as I can forget that I'm in a plane, and I was constantly reminded on that flight. We were glad when we finally arrived in Amsterdam, where the air was around 5 degrees warmer than what we'd left at home.

Surprisingly enough, although English is widely spoken and understood in Amsterdam, there was very little English signage at the airport. We had some trouble figuring out the train into the city but finally decided we were too tired and hungry to waste any more time, so we got on the next best one. We got off at a random stop which was meant to be near our hotel, and then wandered aimlessly a little wondering whether to walk or not. In the end, the idea of walking through a park at night time in a city known for its crime was not tempting and we opted for a taxi. A Scottish bloke checked us in, asked Toby about the rugby and the weather and told us there was a reduced room service menu this late at night (11pm). Our room was a smoking one but Toby, being the bloodhound he is, went around sniffing everything and declared it to be tolerable. We had to request a room service menu and a fourth pillow (3 pillows for 2 people?) and by the time they didn't arrive I was too tired to think about food, and cranky about the strange Dutch method of putting sheets on a bed (two overlapping sheets which you're supposed to lie on). So it wasn't a great start to the holiday but the bed was comfy and we'd made it in one piece.

Having missed a proper dinner the night before, on Saturday we woke up hungry and ready to explore. Our first mission was to get a map, and then some breakfast. A girl behind the counter gave us a map and some directions which were to later prove very unhelpful. She told us to get the tram into the city which is where we'd find all the breakfast we needed. But we didn't have the patience or the energy to tackle public transport before food and thought we were certain to find something edible within walking distance. It took some time and some wrong turns and a fair bit of oohing and aahing at the canals surrounding the hotel, but we found a good-looking bakery not far away and feasted on ham and cheese croissants and cinnamon donuts. A nutritious start to a long day.

Our first stop was the Van Gogh museum, one of two we'd agreed on beforehand. The walk there was lovely, along canals and peering down the gorgeous tree-lined streets, always having to keep an eye out for the locals on their bikes. They were everywhere. There was a line outside the Museum, but it was moving quickly and we got inside which was lucky as it was starting to drizzle. (It didn't stop until the next morning, so from now on, assume we are always damp.)

Inside the museum was really crowded, but it was still a really good way to start our trip. Since reading the chapter in 'The Art of Travel' about Van Gogh I have been intrigued, so this fit the bill perfectly. I don't know if Van Gogh's art appears sad because you know he himself was sad, or because it really does have that quality about it. My favourite painting was probably the Potato Eaters, which he worked really hard on and no one liked. But something about the ugly peasants sitting around their ugly starchy food just hit me. I really liked the idea too that someone could just wake up one day, as Van Gogh did, and decided he could be an artist from now on, with no training and no natural ability that he was aware of. He just wanted to help people through art. The other thing that was surprising about the museum was its claim that it didn't often get to add to its collection because Van Gogh articles are so expensive. And yet the museum was full of proof that its staff are spending thousands of hours figuring out things that in the grand scheme of things don't seem so important (like was this painting completed in 1882 or 1883? Was this done using that kind of ink, or this?). I couldn't help but think that maybe if the museum got rid of some of those academics they could afford to add more art to the collection which seemed to me something Van Gogh would have approved of.

After the museum we spent ages in the gift shop because I couldn't decide what souvenir I wanted to buy, and then headed into the city. The area the hotel girl had directed us to was a big square full of pubs and restaurants and nothing much of any interest so we went further afield and starting exploring the shopping district towards the Dam. For lunch we found a cafe in an alleyway and had pancakes. Considering Dutch meals are based around at least one of cheese, pancakes, bread or potatoes it was surprising that Amsterdammers did not seem the least bit tubby. We put that down to all the cycling. The pancakes were huge - the size of a dinner plate - and thicker than a crepe. They are served with a sweet or savoury topping - the ones we got, which had cheese, were grilled and ended up looking like a pizza. Delicious, artery-clogging lunch. Other odd things about Dutch meals were that everywhere served alcohol and they are still allowing smoking in restaurants. This was definitely our least favourite thing about Amsterdam.

After lunch we explored some more, ending up quite taken with the colours and canals of Amsterdam, and had a quick stroll through the red light district. It's a surprisingly pretty area in the daytime; it was full of tourists and even with all the sex shops and what-not the buildings, alleyways and canals are still lovely. Toby got his first glimpse of some ladies through the windows; it was a little strange to see near-naked women displaying their bodies like that. On the other hand, this was Amsterdam and so entirely expected. We headed back to the hotel to rest up for a night out, via a bakery of course because we were surrounded by them and needed something to have with a cup of tea to replenish.

After tea, baked goodies and a nap (on my part) it was time to doll ourselves up and head out for a night on the town, Amsterdam style. This consisted of getting super confused about Amsterdam's tram system and taking too long to find a restaurant for dinner, by which time Toby was dizzy with hunger. We ate a meal like something you'd get at the Labor club (chicken schnitzel, chips and salad) to fortify ourselves for what lay ahead. We left quickly because there was an Indian bucks night on right next to us, complete with lots of smokers and flirting with the waitresses.

After dinner we went back to the red light district and did some night-time exploring. It was absolutely packed, mostly with men but with enough women that I didn't feel out of place. Unlike the afternoon where most of the windows had been empty, now they all displayed lots of women, most young and attractive with the occasional older lady thrown in for some variety. There were also lots of drug dealers who for some reason took a shine to Toby. Of course we had to see a live show, so we chose a club and paid an exorbitant amount of money for a ticket. Inside it was a tiny room, very smoky and full of people. As this is a family blog I will say no more. Suffice to say, like other first-time experiences, it was oddly unerotic, disappointing, and came to an abrupt and unexpected finish. This was because of some audience members to whom one performer took a dislike; they were American and very loudly complaining when the lights went on and we all had to leave. After that I wasn't much in the mood for any more red light district fun, so we went to McDonald's for a McFlurry and then got a taxi home. Toby was very understanding.

And so our first day in Amsterdam came to a close. Tomorrow I'll post our second day, and some photos.