Sunrise comes up over two massive industrial gas tanks, I have just taken a devil shaped pill after keeping the coffee bar running all night. I say coffee bar, but it is much more wonderous than that. A motorbike with a wood oven, gas hobs and shelves that provide the most important fuel of a festival frequenter. Good coffee, organic lasagne, vegetable and cheese pastries and a direct standpoint to meet the creative and crazy characters of this squatted arts village known as Ruigoord.
Once upon a time there was a little village in the northern fields of Amsterdam, it had a church, a shop and all that a little village would need. The industrial occupiers of the nearby fields and factories decided to buy the land of the village and demolish it. So all the residents left their houses and settled elsewhere. Stumbling across this abandoned village, a group of 'hippies' set up home and around that very same time, for some unattached reason, the industrial deal was cancelled, and the village was not to be demolished afterall. 40 years on, it is one of the most respected arts and festival grounds in Amsterdam and I was there at the solstice festival....
The bass drum background never ceased to beat, as everyones hearts seem to beat in 150bpm unison and in the church a synchpated half time of 75bpm Dub slows things down. I was starting to feel the pill that I had just traded for a cofee and a cake, so I grabbed my guitar and drew myself to the morning campfire. Festivals attract people all with a different story and background, and it is a melting pot for all sorts.
'Yeah, I am a poet/Singer-Songwriter and only psy-trance goa core beatboxer in the world' says this young English boy from Stone Henge. He had a wispy virgin beard, and a know it all demeanor. When he wasn't spewing out stuff about himself, he was sputtering out this spitting eating noise that was supposed to represent 'beat boxing.' He loved talking about himself, and was quick to grab his pad of poems that he was itching to read to me. 'I am a shamanistic healer, with words you will feel yeah, I am the voice of my generation, Mr policeman, may I ask you this, why are you so lame, pig.' And other self worshiping. I talk to him about protest songs that nurture the seeds of thoughts in people, as opposed to a rhyming reporting of exaggerated bland information of semi facts. He sees himself as this shamanistic guide and poetic light, but is still a child with no wisdom or experience. Although he irritated me, and it was quick and ruthless poking through the holes of his philosophies, I can at least admire a fire in a kid that wants to make things right. Though how he was saying it was amateur and child like, he is still trying to express his frustration at what he sees as wrong. If he seeks wisdom, he will find it.
My beautiful friend Elaine, who is a big part of the Ruigoord festival family has her camper set up in the usual spot. We always seem to tune into eachother when it is Irish Coffee time, and as I arrive, the sunshine of Reinas and Peggy and the smell of a coffee brewing and a circle of friends enjoying sunrise in that golden morning light with a hazy headedness of a festival dawn. They show me the secret places of Ruigoord, the wooded hdden pathways, peacocks, turkeys, hand made houses out of wood. The men of the village love to build things, and I never thought wooden pallets could and would be used to build so much. The industrial powers are closing in further and further, and every year they lose some land to giant gas tankers, or wind farms. This year they made squatting illegal in Nederlands, and yet the oldest squats in Amsterdam are now the most interesting arts and festival sites, and also homes of artists, gypsys, mechanics, musicians, welders, orphans, sailors, nurses, acrobats and all the colourful types of creative and crazy people from all over the world.
Everything is shared, people feel it is a way of adding to the atmosphere of just enjoying a good time. You can go and sit next to anyone and start talking over a joint and a beer. I met two guys who love Ruigoord, they have a very calm and easy going way of talking about things. 'I love to paint old things, you know, breathe some new life into them. You see my camper here, it was so old and rusted when I got it, but look at her now with a little work and paint she is reborn. I really think machines have a kind of human element. They are alive in ways that they move and operate, and run on fuel like we do.' I fully understood, and related my love for the character of the bikes in this city. Peggy and Reinas were at the info stand, greeting everyone as they arrived with their warmth and a song, and a ringing of a bell. Again, wanting ever person who entered to have the best time possible. Gabriel, an American musician who settled here 20 some years ago, improvises this wonderful reggae song to welcome people in, and again, adds that sparkle to the place.
The church is now a true church of the people. It has a bar, visual projections, and the cross at the top of the spire has been turned into the symbol of Ruigoord. A smiling almost devilish face, it is a smile that says, 'Fuck you! We can make our own world' and they do. As you enter the village, it is written,on a window in words that make you think of the infinity of time and history, 'We are the ancestors of the future'.
Sunday, 12 August 2012
Tuesday, 31 July 2012
The Midget and The Cowboy
When I first came to this city last year, I could never hide my amazement and feeling that this city has so much to offer me. On my first day, I tipped about 4 great buskers I had heard as I wondered through this sunlit city of smoke with a smile on my face, I felt the atmosphere and quietness welcome me. My meeting point and H.Q is Rembrandtplein, like a mini stage, with seats all around and a water fall with a statue of Rembrandt not smiling, but disconcertingly observing the surroundings of his city. This area has some noisy bars and coffee shops dotted around that show the football and rugby. A place where Brits can go on holiday, but still feel they are in Britain.
You need amplification to busk there, but it is a goldmine that musicians can support themselves fully from. Two of the buskers there, Vince and Euginio make a very good living selling ten or twenty CDs a day at 10 Uros a pop, as well as their donations which are a lot on good days, and even on bad they make more in one go than I do in a few hours at my bridge. I have played there a few times, and at this moment, I feel ready to take a set to play there. The physchology is different, you need to finish songs to give people the chance to applaud and donate. I am so used to playing to passing traffic that I never finish a song, just medley it into the next one. You don't play any longer than an hour, so as not to over do it. The biggest drops come from when you announce it is your last song. I play to passing traffic 2 or 3 hours at a time, but this has been perfect training for me to really expand and master my repatoire. When I met a cellist and cajon player I had no fear whatsoever when playing with them, we hit Dam Square, Rembrandtplein, Central station and drew a crowd and great response wherever we played. Instead of being just one guy with a guitar singing, it became a real street show that increased the money made massively (Though it worked out about the same after it was divided 3 ways).
I spend a lot of time just riding around Amsterdam, and Rembrandtplein is my sitting and meeting point. One day this guy came up to me asking for money, and he had rats in his pocket and on his shoulder, he tried to creep me out by putting the red eyed rodent right next to me, but I wasn't scared and as I only had 5 cents in my pocket had nothing to give him except some of my bread to feed his rats. As this was happening a busking duo were playing, the midget and the cowboy. The midget is a blonde woman who looks beautifully viscous in her eyes. The cowboy is a keyboard player who parks his bike with a keyboard stand and they play cabaret, and unintentional comedic versions of all the classics. I was drinking my water, when the the music stopped. Aldous (The cowboy) had stormed off and was talking on his phone for about ten minutes, looking agitated and angry, the midget always the proffesional kept on singing while keeping an eye on why the cowboy was AWOL. She then reverted into an accapella version of 'Lord wont you buy me a mercedes benz'. And was asking a completely despondent crowd to help her sing it. Always the pro, the show must go on. When they had started Aldous had turned his keyboard right up, and her vocals right down, all's you could hear was this distorted keyboard sound mechanically murdering 'A whiter shade of pale'. They were here last year as well, and so I knew they had been doing this gig a while, still with the same songs and act. But now I sensed there was trouble in the partnership. She received some sympathy drops for her accapella rendition, and apologied for the 'Technical difficulties'. I set out again and returned the next day.....
The midget was looking sad and waiting for a cowboy that didn't look like he was gonna show. I started speaking to her and asked her about yesterday, she said it was just some 'technical difficulties' and all is good. Though I doubted her, as her eyes knew that this could be the end of their partnership. I set out myself for some bridge busking and when I returned a few hours later, I seen the cowboy sitting with this American duo of guitar and vocals (who are lame and cheese all over, and irritate the fuck out of me) practising together while Vince was busking. It was getting late and I figured they were now going to play together, as night time came they set up to play together and it was a very sad amateur music display full of wrong notes, and neither knowing where the changes were happening. As they played and murdered 'Everything in it's right place' I wondered if this was the end of the Midget and the Cowboy. They were always there at Rembrandtplein, last year and this year, and now I never see them. Yesterday I was waking through Central and as I turned around to look, I noticed a bike taxi driver that used to be the cowboy. I wonder what has happened to the midget, I think busking was how they supported themselves and now they are no more, I wonder how she is doing......
A heatwave hit us on Monday, and there was not a cloud in the sky! Amsterdam is golden in the sun, the canals sparkle, the colours of the buildings glow, the scenery can really melt your heart in the heat. I was expecting it to be a good busking weather and looked forward to starting my busking shift at my bridge. I was in a good musical mindset and confidently set up to play at my bridge. I had not a penny to my name and was hoping to make enough to buy some water in the first round. I played, and was in great form, my voice had a gravelly crackle as I sung my heart out and really expected to do quite well. The sun was shining, and in an hour I made nothing. I couldn't understand it! All the ingredients were perfect, but not one centime came into my hat. By this point I was so thirsty and found an empty bottle on the floor, it stunk of old socks, so I ducked into a coffee shop and filled it with water then set out again. I started playing and in the first 40 minutes earned a slow 4 euroes. At least it was enough for some bananas and water and chocolate. I carried on playing for another hour and a bit, and earned nothing during that time. Disheartened I rode around trying to find a different spot, but not feeling any. I went back and played for ten minutes, then thought 'fuck it I am going home'. Bart was leaving for Italy the next day, and I really wanted to get us some beers in, alls I could manage was 2 cans of warm Grolsch!
This was only a few days after playing and earning so great with the Cellist, so I was determined to find some musicians to busk with. I found a muso list of Amsterdam and there was a band on there looking for a singer, I couldn't resist getting in touch, and I went down to the musicians hang out the day after to rehearse with them. It was a pure and intense musical jam that made me realise how great being in a band is. In Liverpool I became quite disheartened with the band scene there. A thankless task to play a gig to your mates, with a shifty promoter not even giving you a few drinks. But jamming with this band, made me remember why it is worth it. When 6 people are all putting their musical energy into one big sound, it is magical and at the end your body aches with joy of expression. It made me really happy to find this band, and I wouldn't have found it unless I had of done so poorly at the previous days busking. For everything a reason hey. And finding the muziekplatz where all the bands of Amsterdam rehearse and drink and socialise, I felt at home! Crash studios in Liverpool was where I could go and taste the music of Liverpool, and now I find Amsterdams Crash. It is full of musicians and good people, and makes me think even more that I will be here for a while yet.......
I still felt I needed a new spot to busk, so the next day I went to Vondelpark, it is a glorious and beautifully green big park in the West of Amsterdam, the realisation set in, that when the sun shines this is where the people are. Playing at a bridge next to a road on a glorious day is not the right setting, but this place was just perfect. I set up at the entrance and in 20 minutes had earned five Euroes. I then played 'Five Years' by Bowie and some woman came up and gave me 10 Euroes! Yes! I had found my new spot. I gave my thanks to the tree I stood under and set out to meet my dear friend Audrey. There was a massive vinyl market at Niewe Markt that day, with mint condition bargains for a euro. Like a musical pro, Audrey found 11 albums with a few Beatles, a Dylan some vital Idol, Rolling Stones, The Who and paid only 40 Euroes for the lot. They feel and look amazing, almost as beautiful as they will sound once we get that right vinyl player.........
You need amplification to busk there, but it is a goldmine that musicians can support themselves fully from. Two of the buskers there, Vince and Euginio make a very good living selling ten or twenty CDs a day at 10 Uros a pop, as well as their donations which are a lot on good days, and even on bad they make more in one go than I do in a few hours at my bridge. I have played there a few times, and at this moment, I feel ready to take a set to play there. The physchology is different, you need to finish songs to give people the chance to applaud and donate. I am so used to playing to passing traffic that I never finish a song, just medley it into the next one. You don't play any longer than an hour, so as not to over do it. The biggest drops come from when you announce it is your last song. I play to passing traffic 2 or 3 hours at a time, but this has been perfect training for me to really expand and master my repatoire. When I met a cellist and cajon player I had no fear whatsoever when playing with them, we hit Dam Square, Rembrandtplein, Central station and drew a crowd and great response wherever we played. Instead of being just one guy with a guitar singing, it became a real street show that increased the money made massively (Though it worked out about the same after it was divided 3 ways).
I spend a lot of time just riding around Amsterdam, and Rembrandtplein is my sitting and meeting point. One day this guy came up to me asking for money, and he had rats in his pocket and on his shoulder, he tried to creep me out by putting the red eyed rodent right next to me, but I wasn't scared and as I only had 5 cents in my pocket had nothing to give him except some of my bread to feed his rats. As this was happening a busking duo were playing, the midget and the cowboy. The midget is a blonde woman who looks beautifully viscous in her eyes. The cowboy is a keyboard player who parks his bike with a keyboard stand and they play cabaret, and unintentional comedic versions of all the classics. I was drinking my water, when the the music stopped. Aldous (The cowboy) had stormed off and was talking on his phone for about ten minutes, looking agitated and angry, the midget always the proffesional kept on singing while keeping an eye on why the cowboy was AWOL. She then reverted into an accapella version of 'Lord wont you buy me a mercedes benz'. And was asking a completely despondent crowd to help her sing it. Always the pro, the show must go on. When they had started Aldous had turned his keyboard right up, and her vocals right down, all's you could hear was this distorted keyboard sound mechanically murdering 'A whiter shade of pale'. They were here last year as well, and so I knew they had been doing this gig a while, still with the same songs and act. But now I sensed there was trouble in the partnership. She received some sympathy drops for her accapella rendition, and apologied for the 'Technical difficulties'. I set out again and returned the next day.....
The midget was looking sad and waiting for a cowboy that didn't look like he was gonna show. I started speaking to her and asked her about yesterday, she said it was just some 'technical difficulties' and all is good. Though I doubted her, as her eyes knew that this could be the end of their partnership. I set out myself for some bridge busking and when I returned a few hours later, I seen the cowboy sitting with this American duo of guitar and vocals (who are lame and cheese all over, and irritate the fuck out of me) practising together while Vince was busking. It was getting late and I figured they were now going to play together, as night time came they set up to play together and it was a very sad amateur music display full of wrong notes, and neither knowing where the changes were happening. As they played and murdered 'Everything in it's right place' I wondered if this was the end of the Midget and the Cowboy. They were always there at Rembrandtplein, last year and this year, and now I never see them. Yesterday I was waking through Central and as I turned around to look, I noticed a bike taxi driver that used to be the cowboy. I wonder what has happened to the midget, I think busking was how they supported themselves and now they are no more, I wonder how she is doing......
A heatwave hit us on Monday, and there was not a cloud in the sky! Amsterdam is golden in the sun, the canals sparkle, the colours of the buildings glow, the scenery can really melt your heart in the heat. I was expecting it to be a good busking weather and looked forward to starting my busking shift at my bridge. I was in a good musical mindset and confidently set up to play at my bridge. I had not a penny to my name and was hoping to make enough to buy some water in the first round. I played, and was in great form, my voice had a gravelly crackle as I sung my heart out and really expected to do quite well. The sun was shining, and in an hour I made nothing. I couldn't understand it! All the ingredients were perfect, but not one centime came into my hat. By this point I was so thirsty and found an empty bottle on the floor, it stunk of old socks, so I ducked into a coffee shop and filled it with water then set out again. I started playing and in the first 40 minutes earned a slow 4 euroes. At least it was enough for some bananas and water and chocolate. I carried on playing for another hour and a bit, and earned nothing during that time. Disheartened I rode around trying to find a different spot, but not feeling any. I went back and played for ten minutes, then thought 'fuck it I am going home'. Bart was leaving for Italy the next day, and I really wanted to get us some beers in, alls I could manage was 2 cans of warm Grolsch!
This was only a few days after playing and earning so great with the Cellist, so I was determined to find some musicians to busk with. I found a muso list of Amsterdam and there was a band on there looking for a singer, I couldn't resist getting in touch, and I went down to the musicians hang out the day after to rehearse with them. It was a pure and intense musical jam that made me realise how great being in a band is. In Liverpool I became quite disheartened with the band scene there. A thankless task to play a gig to your mates, with a shifty promoter not even giving you a few drinks. But jamming with this band, made me remember why it is worth it. When 6 people are all putting their musical energy into one big sound, it is magical and at the end your body aches with joy of expression. It made me really happy to find this band, and I wouldn't have found it unless I had of done so poorly at the previous days busking. For everything a reason hey. And finding the muziekplatz where all the bands of Amsterdam rehearse and drink and socialise, I felt at home! Crash studios in Liverpool was where I could go and taste the music of Liverpool, and now I find Amsterdams Crash. It is full of musicians and good people, and makes me think even more that I will be here for a while yet.......
I still felt I needed a new spot to busk, so the next day I went to Vondelpark, it is a glorious and beautifully green big park in the West of Amsterdam, the realisation set in, that when the sun shines this is where the people are. Playing at a bridge next to a road on a glorious day is not the right setting, but this place was just perfect. I set up at the entrance and in 20 minutes had earned five Euroes. I then played 'Five Years' by Bowie and some woman came up and gave me 10 Euroes! Yes! I had found my new spot. I gave my thanks to the tree I stood under and set out to meet my dear friend Audrey. There was a massive vinyl market at Niewe Markt that day, with mint condition bargains for a euro. Like a musical pro, Audrey found 11 albums with a few Beatles, a Dylan some vital Idol, Rolling Stones, The Who and paid only 40 Euroes for the lot. They feel and look amazing, almost as beautiful as they will sound once we get that right vinyl player.........
Saturday, 14 July 2012
One More Cup of Coffee Before I Go.....
The last 5 weeks have been crazy! 4 festivals on the run, and I feel my head is gonna explode with all the rich experiences I went through at them. It's quite a story to tell and I am not sure where to start. Perhaps the start? Ok........
After being in Amsterdam for a month I received an email from Dani whom I met last year at the Magneet festival. She makes the greatest Sicilian coffee, carrot cake and muffins! She tells me that Robodock is at the squatted ADM terrain this year and is sounding like a good one, would I like to come and help her make some coffee and cakes? 'Yes, I would'. I told her.
I had spent the last two weeks at Barts house, Bart is one of those guys you just easily get on with. Last year at Magneet, he was one of the first people I spoke to and helped out at the Magneet terrain. The first thing he asked me was weather I want some food and a beer, he has one of those care free smiles and a razor sharp wit, I liked him immediately. When I was coming to Amsterdam this time, I messaged him and he said I can stay at his place for a bit and look after it while he is away! This made me speechlessly happy. Last year when I came to Amsterdam, I would look around all the market stores at the junk treasures and wish I had a home in Amsterdam to be able to decorate it with all the bits and pieces they sold. I only had a tent though, but that tent had some Dutch touches! Now I was staying in an amazing apartment and had my own little room to decorate and make my own a bit! I put some posters up and some chilled lights, got a box for my clothes and Colinified the room a little. Life is beautiful I thought. I am a very lucky person. One evening when I popped back to the flat to pick up some clothes, Bart was waiting for his girlfriend to arrive, he was checking his phone, looking out the window, pacing around, and then when she was at the street and rung the buzzer, this smile and excitement engulfed him as he kissed her hello. It is very heart warming to see two people so much in love. Eva, his girlfriend, is a tall, curly haired, very energetic and beautiful Dutch girl, she has one of those perfectly happy smiles, when she talks to you, you feel you have known her forever. I have many great memories with them at the Magneet, but that moment will always stay with me and make me smile. Perhaps because it reminds me of when I was in love and how wonderful a feeling it is...
Bart had helped fix up a bike for me, she was an orange sticker refugee and she wobbles when she rides. I gave her the name 'Jelly Roll' and we set off to the festival to meet Dani. I finally found the terrain which is hidden in the industrial North of Amsterdam, a squatted village that has a big building in the centre and a massive hanger workshop where all the great engineers, builders, carpenters and artists of the ADM terrain work, building whatever they want or need. Not for a company or a deadline, but for themselves and the parties that they throw there. I could taste the festival atmosphere as soon as I got in. I have felt that these festivals are like bubbles. Inside them no other world exists, time is measured by sunrise, sunset and the weather. When you feel like a coffee it is coffee time, when you feel like a beer it is beer time, when you are hungry it is dinner time. You never look at a watch, you just get caught up in the festival flow. It felt good to be back in this atmosphere, but the one thing that was going through my head is that I am too overdressed. I should have bought a pair of jeans with me instead of 4 suits that I bought from a charity shop! (They are just so comfy though!) I found Dani and the coffee bar and it was great to see her again. Last year at Magneet, we spent 7 weeks in the bubble and had incredible highs and lows, all of us who were there from the start went through something together, and a long bond was formed between us all. The coffee bar is mobile and it is one of the most brilliant constructions I have ever seen. It is a motorbike or a 'Backbroomer' so it has two wheels on the front and one at the back. Just in front of the handle bars is a two layered table, with a gas cooker and all the coffee pots, in front of that is a big wood oven that cooks cakes and lasagnes and all sorts! We exchanged our winter stories with eachother and enjoyed a cup of coffee and cake together. Dani is a dark, beautiful Serbian born traveller, who is completely open and honest about everything. She has a soothing way of getting things done, and is quite shamanistic in how she does it. When she is next to a campfire, the light from it flickers in her eyes and you feel her beauty and strength shining with the flames. We would spend the next month sleeping in her camper van and making coffee at some amazing festivals.......
Coffee, for me in England it was a spoon of Nescafe, 2.5 sugars and lots of milk, then down it straight away for a little kick. (Almost like Orwells Victory Gin, no?) But this coffee is special coffee. It is the sicilian way of making it, and the process is as follows. A three layered silver pot that one the bottom you fill with water, in the middle you put coffee (Dani's coffee is grown by anarchists under a tree in the East, and is Lekker) then as the water heats on the gas cooker, the steam rises and fuses into the coffee, that then rises again up a tube and becomes liquid in the top container. It is a very beautiful coffee, and as soon as I got back from the last festival I purchased one! I am so proud, I am going to take it everywhere truly tasting the coffees of the world, no more nescafe instant! Then in the cup, you put 1/3 milk, 1/3 coffee, and 1/3 milk foam. This balance results in one the most amazing coffees you will ever drink (and 4 ssugars for me!) Dani has a way of really making you think for yourself, she isn't telling you what to do all the time, but just throws responsibility at you and lets you get on with it. Not telling you when you make a mistake, but just letting you learn. I set about learning how to run the coffee bar on my own and was very proud to do so. When I love doing somethin, I put my heart into it, and give it everything I got. Plus, it is a great way to meet and speak to people at festivals by making coffee, I was able to experience the festival and it's people a whole different way. Not just buying a ticket and going to see it, but seeing it built, talking to everyone involved and feeling so happy when a good cup of coffee puts a smile on their face! I had seen bits and pieces of the festival in its build up from rehearsals and work they were still doing, but Saturday night I really got completely absorbed in the world they had so wonderfully created. Let me try and take you through it from the start. I hope to do it justice, but i fear the experience I felt at this, is hard to truly translate into words......
It was about 8pm on the Saturday, I shared a joint with this Slavic photographer I got on really well with, we talked about life and travels and stuff and I felt I was in a great place, a nicely stoned from the smoke. I went up to the front gate to see where the coffee bar was when I got pulled into the show. At the gate stood a black van, draped with black sheets, and skinheaded girls with no eyebrows cloaked in black in bare feet. At the door the woman was smiling as she asked the new arrivals if they were 'ready to die?' They would let 20 or so in, and then really slam the gate behind them. There was a little skinhead (not sure weather it was male or female) running around the floor on all fours, trying to grab the bait, the skinheads on the van were waving (like a draped flag) at it, and laughing. Over in a patch of grass to the right of the gate, this band played acoustic. They were dressed really spookily, but without being cheesy or trademark or anything, they just looked perfectly fitting. they were playing random prog jazz type unsettling music, (double bass, sax, drums, guitar) and mingling with the people and really creeping them out. Then they started to walk away as they played and we were drawn to follow. we walked to the flaming lotus girls that was this giant submerged into the grass Griffin, with like bones that were filled with fire (controlled by gas) that would shoot up this massive fire through them. The theatre performers were sitting down pretending to be part of the crowd when they started to have what looked like an epileptic fit of a dance. Flinging themselves all around the bones of fire that would randomly shoot fire. The skinheads joined in and it was a strange display. Then over to the building. The building was set out to represent 4 sides of life and death, and the first was a giant iron tree attached to the building with a kind of stage, that a ghostly opera singer would sing this very haunting melody backed by cello and violin. a little further up this side was a robotic band, a robotic vodka bar and a giant robotic hand that would crush a piano! The next side of the building was completely decorated to look like a sidewards garden. Then on ropes dancers would seem to be caring for the garden that was like a flip sided view. Very surreal! behind that in a little patch of grass was 'Charron' which is a giant wheel with skeletons rowing. When people pull the ropes it starts to spin, when they get the right speeds it lights up with strobes and really looks like skeletons are coming alive and rowing a never ending boat! On the next side of building was the fire show.....Wow, music made completely from fire, and then a whole fire display of setting alight woodchip and throwing it all over the place, was so fascinating to watch. the next side of the building was projecting a light show on the building that looked like it was coming to life! The windows would crack, and then a a fruit machine wheel would spin, and always land on the Politie (Police) symbol. There were stages on two of the sides that bands would play. I was completely blown away by 'La Fantastique Boutique' A 12 piece band with brass section, string section, drums, double bass, DJ, keys and no vocals! They were amazing! Truly! I cant truly describe all the other smaller elements that also went in to this festival, but please take my word that this was one of the most brilliant combinations of Theatre, Art, Engineering and music that I have ever seen! One of the theatre performers, Anna I really must tell you about.......
She is 6ft5 red hair, and has such a strong presence that I would go weak at the knees whenever she spoke to me. Tall and slim figure, but strong. Tattooed with naked girls and more all over her beautiful body. She wears clothes that add to her grandness, like those tall Russian hats, and big leather boots. Completely comfortable in her body, and happy when she is welding iron together, or performing. She has the look of a Bond villain girl, like a Natasha. She has deep searching eyes that look right inside you, and I was always mesmerized by her whenever she was close to me. After the festival had finished I stayed there for a bout a week, this terrain was so amazing. It has a giant wooden tower they built, and a pizza oven, a bar and the dogs run free. Around a hundred people live there so I am told. They have built a perfect sauna in a caravan and on a beautiful morning I was in the sauna alone when Anna came in. I didn't know it was her at first, but then seeing her tattoos and catching her eye my stomach fluttered. She was sighing from the heat and touching her naked body, rubbing her legs up and down and breathing heavily. I spoke few words, and just enjoyed what was an amazing experience. She was at all the other festivals as well, and always had the same effect on me. A very beautiful, strong and creatively crazy girl with a raging fire inside her, I am sure and I hope we will meet again......
After being in Amsterdam for a month I received an email from Dani whom I met last year at the Magneet festival. She makes the greatest Sicilian coffee, carrot cake and muffins! She tells me that Robodock is at the squatted ADM terrain this year and is sounding like a good one, would I like to come and help her make some coffee and cakes? 'Yes, I would'. I told her.
I had spent the last two weeks at Barts house, Bart is one of those guys you just easily get on with. Last year at Magneet, he was one of the first people I spoke to and helped out at the Magneet terrain. The first thing he asked me was weather I want some food and a beer, he has one of those care free smiles and a razor sharp wit, I liked him immediately. When I was coming to Amsterdam this time, I messaged him and he said I can stay at his place for a bit and look after it while he is away! This made me speechlessly happy. Last year when I came to Amsterdam, I would look around all the market stores at the junk treasures and wish I had a home in Amsterdam to be able to decorate it with all the bits and pieces they sold. I only had a tent though, but that tent had some Dutch touches! Now I was staying in an amazing apartment and had my own little room to decorate and make my own a bit! I put some posters up and some chilled lights, got a box for my clothes and Colinified the room a little. Life is beautiful I thought. I am a very lucky person. One evening when I popped back to the flat to pick up some clothes, Bart was waiting for his girlfriend to arrive, he was checking his phone, looking out the window, pacing around, and then when she was at the street and rung the buzzer, this smile and excitement engulfed him as he kissed her hello. It is very heart warming to see two people so much in love. Eva, his girlfriend, is a tall, curly haired, very energetic and beautiful Dutch girl, she has one of those perfectly happy smiles, when she talks to you, you feel you have known her forever. I have many great memories with them at the Magneet, but that moment will always stay with me and make me smile. Perhaps because it reminds me of when I was in love and how wonderful a feeling it is...
Bart had helped fix up a bike for me, she was an orange sticker refugee and she wobbles when she rides. I gave her the name 'Jelly Roll' and we set off to the festival to meet Dani. I finally found the terrain which is hidden in the industrial North of Amsterdam, a squatted village that has a big building in the centre and a massive hanger workshop where all the great engineers, builders, carpenters and artists of the ADM terrain work, building whatever they want or need. Not for a company or a deadline, but for themselves and the parties that they throw there. I could taste the festival atmosphere as soon as I got in. I have felt that these festivals are like bubbles. Inside them no other world exists, time is measured by sunrise, sunset and the weather. When you feel like a coffee it is coffee time, when you feel like a beer it is beer time, when you are hungry it is dinner time. You never look at a watch, you just get caught up in the festival flow. It felt good to be back in this atmosphere, but the one thing that was going through my head is that I am too overdressed. I should have bought a pair of jeans with me instead of 4 suits that I bought from a charity shop! (They are just so comfy though!) I found Dani and the coffee bar and it was great to see her again. Last year at Magneet, we spent 7 weeks in the bubble and had incredible highs and lows, all of us who were there from the start went through something together, and a long bond was formed between us all. The coffee bar is mobile and it is one of the most brilliant constructions I have ever seen. It is a motorbike or a 'Backbroomer' so it has two wheels on the front and one at the back. Just in front of the handle bars is a two layered table, with a gas cooker and all the coffee pots, in front of that is a big wood oven that cooks cakes and lasagnes and all sorts! We exchanged our winter stories with eachother and enjoyed a cup of coffee and cake together. Dani is a dark, beautiful Serbian born traveller, who is completely open and honest about everything. She has a soothing way of getting things done, and is quite shamanistic in how she does it. When she is next to a campfire, the light from it flickers in her eyes and you feel her beauty and strength shining with the flames. We would spend the next month sleeping in her camper van and making coffee at some amazing festivals.......
Coffee, for me in England it was a spoon of Nescafe, 2.5 sugars and lots of milk, then down it straight away for a little kick. (Almost like Orwells Victory Gin, no?) But this coffee is special coffee. It is the sicilian way of making it, and the process is as follows. A three layered silver pot that one the bottom you fill with water, in the middle you put coffee (Dani's coffee is grown by anarchists under a tree in the East, and is Lekker) then as the water heats on the gas cooker, the steam rises and fuses into the coffee, that then rises again up a tube and becomes liquid in the top container. It is a very beautiful coffee, and as soon as I got back from the last festival I purchased one! I am so proud, I am going to take it everywhere truly tasting the coffees of the world, no more nescafe instant! Then in the cup, you put 1/3 milk, 1/3 coffee, and 1/3 milk foam. This balance results in one the most amazing coffees you will ever drink (and 4 ssugars for me!) Dani has a way of really making you think for yourself, she isn't telling you what to do all the time, but just throws responsibility at you and lets you get on with it. Not telling you when you make a mistake, but just letting you learn. I set about learning how to run the coffee bar on my own and was very proud to do so. When I love doing somethin, I put my heart into it, and give it everything I got. Plus, it is a great way to meet and speak to people at festivals by making coffee, I was able to experience the festival and it's people a whole different way. Not just buying a ticket and going to see it, but seeing it built, talking to everyone involved and feeling so happy when a good cup of coffee puts a smile on their face! I had seen bits and pieces of the festival in its build up from rehearsals and work they were still doing, but Saturday night I really got completely absorbed in the world they had so wonderfully created. Let me try and take you through it from the start. I hope to do it justice, but i fear the experience I felt at this, is hard to truly translate into words......
It was about 8pm on the Saturday, I shared a joint with this Slavic photographer I got on really well with, we talked about life and travels and stuff and I felt I was in a great place, a nicely stoned from the smoke. I went up to the front gate to see where the coffee bar was when I got pulled into the show. At the gate stood a black van, draped with black sheets, and skinheaded girls with no eyebrows cloaked in black in bare feet. At the door the woman was smiling as she asked the new arrivals if they were 'ready to die?' They would let 20 or so in, and then really slam the gate behind them. There was a little skinhead (not sure weather it was male or female) running around the floor on all fours, trying to grab the bait, the skinheads on the van were waving (like a draped flag) at it, and laughing. Over in a patch of grass to the right of the gate, this band played acoustic. They were dressed really spookily, but without being cheesy or trademark or anything, they just looked perfectly fitting. they were playing random prog jazz type unsettling music, (double bass, sax, drums, guitar) and mingling with the people and really creeping them out. Then they started to walk away as they played and we were drawn to follow. we walked to the flaming lotus girls that was this giant submerged into the grass Griffin, with like bones that were filled with fire (controlled by gas) that would shoot up this massive fire through them. The theatre performers were sitting down pretending to be part of the crowd when they started to have what looked like an epileptic fit of a dance. Flinging themselves all around the bones of fire that would randomly shoot fire. The skinheads joined in and it was a strange display. Then over to the building. The building was set out to represent 4 sides of life and death, and the first was a giant iron tree attached to the building with a kind of stage, that a ghostly opera singer would sing this very haunting melody backed by cello and violin. a little further up this side was a robotic band, a robotic vodka bar and a giant robotic hand that would crush a piano! The next side of the building was completely decorated to look like a sidewards garden. Then on ropes dancers would seem to be caring for the garden that was like a flip sided view. Very surreal! behind that in a little patch of grass was 'Charron' which is a giant wheel with skeletons rowing. When people pull the ropes it starts to spin, when they get the right speeds it lights up with strobes and really looks like skeletons are coming alive and rowing a never ending boat! On the next side of building was the fire show.....Wow, music made completely from fire, and then a whole fire display of setting alight woodchip and throwing it all over the place, was so fascinating to watch. the next side of the building was projecting a light show on the building that looked like it was coming to life! The windows would crack, and then a a fruit machine wheel would spin, and always land on the Politie (Police) symbol. There were stages on two of the sides that bands would play. I was completely blown away by 'La Fantastique Boutique' A 12 piece band with brass section, string section, drums, double bass, DJ, keys and no vocals! They were amazing! Truly! I cant truly describe all the other smaller elements that also went in to this festival, but please take my word that this was one of the most brilliant combinations of Theatre, Art, Engineering and music that I have ever seen! One of the theatre performers, Anna I really must tell you about.......
She is 6ft5 red hair, and has such a strong presence that I would go weak at the knees whenever she spoke to me. Tall and slim figure, but strong. Tattooed with naked girls and more all over her beautiful body. She wears clothes that add to her grandness, like those tall Russian hats, and big leather boots. Completely comfortable in her body, and happy when she is welding iron together, or performing. She has the look of a Bond villain girl, like a Natasha. She has deep searching eyes that look right inside you, and I was always mesmerized by her whenever she was close to me. After the festival had finished I stayed there for a bout a week, this terrain was so amazing. It has a giant wooden tower they built, and a pizza oven, a bar and the dogs run free. Around a hundred people live there so I am told. They have built a perfect sauna in a caravan and on a beautiful morning I was in the sauna alone when Anna came in. I didn't know it was her at first, but then seeing her tattoos and catching her eye my stomach fluttered. She was sighing from the heat and touching her naked body, rubbing her legs up and down and breathing heavily. I spoke few words, and just enjoyed what was an amazing experience. She was at all the other festivals as well, and always had the same effect on me. A very beautiful, strong and creatively crazy girl with a raging fire inside her, I am sure and I hope we will meet again......
Thursday, 12 July 2012
It's a Ducks Life
Since it is weather for ducks outside, I feel I should tell you about my
friends....The Ducks, as well as Rooster head and the cross eyed
seagulls. The people I have met in Amsterdam have very big colourful
characters, and the wild life of the city is no different......
I love getting lost on a bike ride in the city, and finding new places of wonder and meeting people. On my second day here I set out to Flevo park to find a place where I could sit in peace and practise my guitar and learn new songs. Last year I found a beautiful spot in the park, with an amazing seat by the river. It had lots of passing traffic though, and was quite hard to feel as isolated as I sometimes like to feel. So this time I was determined to find the perfect spot. I rode all around Flevo park just looking for my new retreat. I came accross an almost hidden path way that I couldn't resist following down. As I got nearer my heart fluttered. This was perfect! A clearing that opened up to a well hidden spot away from all passers by. A fallen trea to sit on, and the river right at my toes. Facing East to watch sunrise, and a view of the Magneet Festival skies. I took out my compass and marked down my location. I completely refuse to allow a smart phone to cpature what I see, and tell me where to go. A compass and a map is much more prefarable to me. I sat on the tree and enjoyed the view. I felt this was the perfect place where I could just go and learn as many new songs to busk as possible! I am on a 'learn 2 a day'diet that is going quite well. I started playing and singing and after about 20 minutes a family of ducks came close to inspect what was happening. One of the reasons Spring is my favourite season is that you get to see new wildlife at its youngest, and this beautiful mother with her 6 ducklings just melted my heart. The mother was proud and protective and shone this golden tint on her feathers that made me just smile at her beauty. The ducklings were high squeaking, lightly coloured stumbling bundles of joy. I was so suprised when they came right up to me, quacking and squeaking right to my feet! I wished I had some food to give them, because they seemed hungry. I found a corn biscuit in my pocket and broke it up into pieces for them. They seemed to really like it and I wished I had more to give them. So I played them a few songs and just said to myself what I always say when Amsterdam amazes me. 'GOD, I love this city!!!' I must say that about 10 times a day. I felt I had found my perfect place to come, and was already planning to see them again tomorrow......
Money was disintigrating so I thought I needed a budget. I figured I could live off 6 Euroes a day. Buying a baghuette, some cheese, filling my water bottle and a bar of chocolate. I picked some wheat bread that I thought the ducks might like and on the next day I went back. God I was hoping they would return. I found the place again, took out my guitar and a few minutes later I was paid a visit. I hoped it was a different family because she only had 2 ducklings with her. It was, I am sure. I was throwing them some Wheat bread and they seemed to really like it. Coming up close. This time their Dad was there watching. It's strange, I am no wildlife expert. But I could just tell he was the Dad. The mother with her beautiful brown colouring, and the dad with his green neck and stern face. Almost like he was wearing a suit and a tie. He would stay back making sure the kids and his woman ate first. I would throw him some aswell though, that he seemed a bit reluctant to take.. Now that's a good Dad, someone who puts their kids first. I was enjoying watching them and feeding them, when the other family of ducks came near. Yay! I threw them some wheat bread too and was happy to see them. But the mother of 2 didn't like this. It was her feeding spot. Before I knew it the two mothers went 'Beak to Beak'and started flapping and fighting right in front of me. I was like 'Noooooo! There's enough for everyone! Calm down, calm down.' It went on for a few minutes untill the mother of 2 retreated looking sad and defeated. The mother of 6 stood up in the water and flapped her wings with her head up. (I think this is a victory pose, they seem to do it alot) I was still a bit heart broken at this fight as I watched the mother of 2 swim away but keep looking back. The family of 6 came right up to me quacking their little hearts out and taking wheat bread from my hands. As sad as I was about the fight, I kind of understood that that is the way the world is. Life is a fight. You have to defend what is yours, and fight for what you think is right. Humans are no different. So this mother of 6 won, because she was the stronger one, she had 6 kids and even the kids were getting into the fight. They do this thing where they put their head down like they are going to charge, and if the other doesn't flee, then they go 'Beak to Beak' or Bill to Bill I suppose. Beak to Beak just sounds better. I think every time I have gone there, I have ended up giving them more than I have eaten myself, but it's worth it.
The more and more I went there, the more life I seen. It's like a little neighbourhood. Over in the rush's there lives a very edgy paranoid beautiful creature. He is always there, and when I am feeding the ducks he comes for a nose. I try to throw him some food, but he runs away from it. Completely black, not a duck, or a seagull, but swims like a duck but has a beak and demeaner of a gull. He has this white stripe coming down his head and a white beak that makes him very curious. I seem to call him Rooster head, and when he swims up his neck goes back and forth like a pidgeon. He is a funny character, that once everyone else has gone, he comes to see if there is anything left over. He is getting a bit braver and coming closer now, but he just looks very edgy and paranoid all the time. I love him. Another day I was there, I was feeding them, and a pack of sea gulls came for a visit. When a duckling was heading for a piece of wheat bread, they would swoop down and nick it from them. One of these gulls came right in front of me and landed on a submerged log and looked me dead in the eye. He was wonderfully bright white, with a black and grey shades. But very rich healthy colour. When he looked at me dead in the eye, I burst out laughing. He was almost cross eyed. You know those sets of eyes you get on toys, that spin around and move. It was like that. I swear he looked me straight in the eye, and he just had this great comedy like look about him. I loved him straight away and said my mantra 'GOD I love this city!!' There are so many parks and fountains,and just beautiful green getaways in the city. There are swans everywhere, and these amazingly bright green tropical birds you see, rabbits and hares, and all sorts of happy wildlife! The dogs all are very obedient and well behaved, and they mingle naturally and playfully with other dogs. There is a peacefulness here, and wildlife that I would be amazed to see matched by another capital city!
I love getting lost on a bike ride in the city, and finding new places of wonder and meeting people. On my second day here I set out to Flevo park to find a place where I could sit in peace and practise my guitar and learn new songs. Last year I found a beautiful spot in the park, with an amazing seat by the river. It had lots of passing traffic though, and was quite hard to feel as isolated as I sometimes like to feel. So this time I was determined to find the perfect spot. I rode all around Flevo park just looking for my new retreat. I came accross an almost hidden path way that I couldn't resist following down. As I got nearer my heart fluttered. This was perfect! A clearing that opened up to a well hidden spot away from all passers by. A fallen trea to sit on, and the river right at my toes. Facing East to watch sunrise, and a view of the Magneet Festival skies. I took out my compass and marked down my location. I completely refuse to allow a smart phone to cpature what I see, and tell me where to go. A compass and a map is much more prefarable to me. I sat on the tree and enjoyed the view. I felt this was the perfect place where I could just go and learn as many new songs to busk as possible! I am on a 'learn 2 a day'diet that is going quite well. I started playing and singing and after about 20 minutes a family of ducks came close to inspect what was happening. One of the reasons Spring is my favourite season is that you get to see new wildlife at its youngest, and this beautiful mother with her 6 ducklings just melted my heart. The mother was proud and protective and shone this golden tint on her feathers that made me just smile at her beauty. The ducklings were high squeaking, lightly coloured stumbling bundles of joy. I was so suprised when they came right up to me, quacking and squeaking right to my feet! I wished I had some food to give them, because they seemed hungry. I found a corn biscuit in my pocket and broke it up into pieces for them. They seemed to really like it and I wished I had more to give them. So I played them a few songs and just said to myself what I always say when Amsterdam amazes me. 'GOD, I love this city!!!' I must say that about 10 times a day. I felt I had found my perfect place to come, and was already planning to see them again tomorrow......
Money was disintigrating so I thought I needed a budget. I figured I could live off 6 Euroes a day. Buying a baghuette, some cheese, filling my water bottle and a bar of chocolate. I picked some wheat bread that I thought the ducks might like and on the next day I went back. God I was hoping they would return. I found the place again, took out my guitar and a few minutes later I was paid a visit. I hoped it was a different family because she only had 2 ducklings with her. It was, I am sure. I was throwing them some Wheat bread and they seemed to really like it. Coming up close. This time their Dad was there watching. It's strange, I am no wildlife expert. But I could just tell he was the Dad. The mother with her beautiful brown colouring, and the dad with his green neck and stern face. Almost like he was wearing a suit and a tie. He would stay back making sure the kids and his woman ate first. I would throw him some aswell though, that he seemed a bit reluctant to take.. Now that's a good Dad, someone who puts their kids first. I was enjoying watching them and feeding them, when the other family of ducks came near. Yay! I threw them some wheat bread too and was happy to see them. But the mother of 2 didn't like this. It was her feeding spot. Before I knew it the two mothers went 'Beak to Beak'and started flapping and fighting right in front of me. I was like 'Noooooo! There's enough for everyone! Calm down, calm down.' It went on for a few minutes untill the mother of 2 retreated looking sad and defeated. The mother of 6 stood up in the water and flapped her wings with her head up. (I think this is a victory pose, they seem to do it alot) I was still a bit heart broken at this fight as I watched the mother of 2 swim away but keep looking back. The family of 6 came right up to me quacking their little hearts out and taking wheat bread from my hands. As sad as I was about the fight, I kind of understood that that is the way the world is. Life is a fight. You have to defend what is yours, and fight for what you think is right. Humans are no different. So this mother of 6 won, because she was the stronger one, she had 6 kids and even the kids were getting into the fight. They do this thing where they put their head down like they are going to charge, and if the other doesn't flee, then they go 'Beak to Beak' or Bill to Bill I suppose. Beak to Beak just sounds better. I think every time I have gone there, I have ended up giving them more than I have eaten myself, but it's worth it.
The more and more I went there, the more life I seen. It's like a little neighbourhood. Over in the rush's there lives a very edgy paranoid beautiful creature. He is always there, and when I am feeding the ducks he comes for a nose. I try to throw him some food, but he runs away from it. Completely black, not a duck, or a seagull, but swims like a duck but has a beak and demeaner of a gull. He has this white stripe coming down his head and a white beak that makes him very curious. I seem to call him Rooster head, and when he swims up his neck goes back and forth like a pidgeon. He is a funny character, that once everyone else has gone, he comes to see if there is anything left over. He is getting a bit braver and coming closer now, but he just looks very edgy and paranoid all the time. I love him. Another day I was there, I was feeding them, and a pack of sea gulls came for a visit. When a duckling was heading for a piece of wheat bread, they would swoop down and nick it from them. One of these gulls came right in front of me and landed on a submerged log and looked me dead in the eye. He was wonderfully bright white, with a black and grey shades. But very rich healthy colour. When he looked at me dead in the eye, I burst out laughing. He was almost cross eyed. You know those sets of eyes you get on toys, that spin around and move. It was like that. I swear he looked me straight in the eye, and he just had this great comedy like look about him. I loved him straight away and said my mantra 'GOD I love this city!!' There are so many parks and fountains,and just beautiful green getaways in the city. There are swans everywhere, and these amazingly bright green tropical birds you see, rabbits and hares, and all sorts of happy wildlife! The dogs all are very obedient and well behaved, and they mingle naturally and playfully with other dogs. There is a peacefulness here, and wildlife that I would be amazed to see matched by another capital city!
A Darker Side of Amsterdan
I have noticed a different
side to this city since being back. I must admit, my love for Amsterdam comes
from the daytime. The church bells that ring beautiful melodies every 15
minutes, the peaceful hum of trams and bikes and even when she rains she is
beautiful. But like every city, when darkness descends, another side of the
city comes out......’
Last year I arrived in Amsterdam for the first time. It was completely different to my expectations, I expected seedy whore clubs and dingy cafe's and coke dealers on every corner. When I seen just how beautiful, free and open she was I knew I wanted to stay. Taylor, who used to be a bass player and played in my old band White Trash ana Halfcast was with his friends when I first came here, so we met up and he said I could crash on the floor of his hotel, so I didn't book a hostel or think about accommodation for the night. He and his friends also love Amsterdam, but for very different reasons than me. They book a hotel as close to central as they can. And visit the coffee shops to get as stoned out of their heads as possible. Stay there for a few hours, then go to McDonalds for a 'munch'. They have never ridden a bike, and only know a short route to nearby coffee shops that love selling weed to people like this. Each one of them must spend a few hundred Euros in the 2 or 3 days they are here, which is great for the tourist economy and it will be strange to see how these laws on banning tourists work out. I have not found one Dutch person who thinks it is a good idea yet, already in the South, criminal disturbances have quadrupled because of the ban. I spent that first day in Amsterdam with Taylor and his friends, I assumed I could just crash on the floor of their hotel, but I was wrong. Hotels are very vigilant about things like this and they wouldn't let me stay. So, it was midnight and I had no place to stay. I decided I would just street walk the whole night, maybe find a bench to stay on. At least I had put my back pack in Taylors room so I wasn't carrying much. It was all such a new city to me, I had no idea where I was walking but just walked for hours. As I was walking, this strange man started following me, trying to creep me out. Saying 'Where you goin with that guitar? you can't carry guitars round here' Then he said he was gonna piss while we walk. I stared him straight in the eyes and said 'Look, lad. I have no attention to give you, you are obviously deficient of some brain cells, maybe mother never held you as a kid or something. But get the fuck out of my face while I enjoy Amsterdam, you are just irritating me, so fuck off'. That seemed to shake him off. it was 3 am in the morning and my feet ached, my mind was a bit frazzled, and I came to a sign that said Hotel. I went in and asked how much, he said he would give me it for 40 Euros as it was so late, so I took it and just crashed in the room. I was a bit gutted about spending so much money on a room. Cash was running out fast, but at that point I just felt I needed to. I went on to get 2 nights in a Hostel, and then I started camping, and then I joined the Magneet.
I remember it was 2 weeks before I even saw a police car in Amsterdam, no sirens no big police presence. I ask myself now, looking back. Am I romanticising that first 2 months here, because since I have been back I have felt such a change in the atmosphere. On Friday night whilst sitting at Rembrandt plain, two police officers came up to Vince and asked him for his 'Papers'. Shit! So you do need a licence to busk here! Then not long after, the strangest thing. A complete parade of police, fire and ambulance's went past, all with the sirens blaring! There must of have been about 15-20 vehicles, I thought, wow, what is happening here! There is now a mobile police station at Rembrandt plan keeping watch. And I am always seeing Politte everywhere. Still not as much as Liverpool, but immensely more than last time I was here. On the second night I was here, a policeman stopped me for riding on the wrong side of the road. I used my Britishness and all was good. I think if they are to bring the laws in on selling weed to foreigners, then they will need a heavy police presence to enforce it. because you know, there are gonna be dealers EVERYWHERE! it's not as if weed will just disappear from the city. But maybe this is why I am seeing such a change in the atmosphere here. Why not let the pot heads from around the world come and spend a few hundred Euros for a toke of freedom? Supply will always meet demand! But it seems they will stubbornly enforce this stupid law and ignore the rise in crime and disturbance that will inevitably come. After the police parade I got on my bike and was in dire need of a piss. It's hard to find a place to piss in Amsterdam, but I headed East and just decided to get a bit lost on my bike. Then the sirens again, all of them blurring down the road. I stopped and watched, and just wondered what on earth was the goal of this. Seeing Vince get asked for a licence to busk worried me, and I thought I had better be careful about taking my amp out.
One thing Amsterdam teaches me is patience and responsibility. Having the freedom to enjoy a smoke whenever you want makes it a different feeling all together. In England the illegality of it dictates when you can smoke it and where, and always gotta hide. Here, it is something to be enjoyed. There is this coffee shop in Rembrandt plain called Balou. It is right by my busking bridge, and I went there a lot last year. So much so that the guy recognised me, and said 'Hey, it's been a while!' I would make enough from busking to get me a little smoke and a cuppa and always enjoyed that coffee shop (mostly for the fact it was the closest.) I like to really enjoy a joint, not smoke too much and get green out my head. I only have one joint in a coffee shop, and then I go riding. I space my day out by this. I already had a little bit of smoke left, and then went in to the shop to order a coffee. It was a different guy working there, this fat guy, with a kind of, what I lack emotionally, I overstate, look in his eyes. I asked him for a coffee and he said you gotta buy some weed. I said I already have some left from yesterday', he said 'This is how we make our money, so buy some weed, it's always the same with you, you buy a cup of coffee and smoke 1 joint.' I said 'excuse me, I have made this my local and really enjoy coming here, so I don't want to get stoned out of my head, but just enjoy a smoke. I am sure you make quite a bit from drink sales as well.' He put his head down and just pointed at the weed menu. I left, and never have, and never will return.
There have been little things, like more people asking me for money, and people stepping out in front of me with mad eyes as I ride. Last year, in the whole 2 months, I was asked for 20 cents just once! None of this dampens my love for this city. On the contrary, I am excited to be here to witness the changes she is going through and how she will shape and resist the changes asked of her.........
Last year I arrived in Amsterdam for the first time. It was completely different to my expectations, I expected seedy whore clubs and dingy cafe's and coke dealers on every corner. When I seen just how beautiful, free and open she was I knew I wanted to stay. Taylor, who used to be a bass player and played in my old band White Trash ana Halfcast was with his friends when I first came here, so we met up and he said I could crash on the floor of his hotel, so I didn't book a hostel or think about accommodation for the night. He and his friends also love Amsterdam, but for very different reasons than me. They book a hotel as close to central as they can. And visit the coffee shops to get as stoned out of their heads as possible. Stay there for a few hours, then go to McDonalds for a 'munch'. They have never ridden a bike, and only know a short route to nearby coffee shops that love selling weed to people like this. Each one of them must spend a few hundred Euros in the 2 or 3 days they are here, which is great for the tourist economy and it will be strange to see how these laws on banning tourists work out. I have not found one Dutch person who thinks it is a good idea yet, already in the South, criminal disturbances have quadrupled because of the ban. I spent that first day in Amsterdam with Taylor and his friends, I assumed I could just crash on the floor of their hotel, but I was wrong. Hotels are very vigilant about things like this and they wouldn't let me stay. So, it was midnight and I had no place to stay. I decided I would just street walk the whole night, maybe find a bench to stay on. At least I had put my back pack in Taylors room so I wasn't carrying much. It was all such a new city to me, I had no idea where I was walking but just walked for hours. As I was walking, this strange man started following me, trying to creep me out. Saying 'Where you goin with that guitar? you can't carry guitars round here' Then he said he was gonna piss while we walk. I stared him straight in the eyes and said 'Look, lad. I have no attention to give you, you are obviously deficient of some brain cells, maybe mother never held you as a kid or something. But get the fuck out of my face while I enjoy Amsterdam, you are just irritating me, so fuck off'. That seemed to shake him off. it was 3 am in the morning and my feet ached, my mind was a bit frazzled, and I came to a sign that said Hotel. I went in and asked how much, he said he would give me it for 40 Euros as it was so late, so I took it and just crashed in the room. I was a bit gutted about spending so much money on a room. Cash was running out fast, but at that point I just felt I needed to. I went on to get 2 nights in a Hostel, and then I started camping, and then I joined the Magneet.
I remember it was 2 weeks before I even saw a police car in Amsterdam, no sirens no big police presence. I ask myself now, looking back. Am I romanticising that first 2 months here, because since I have been back I have felt such a change in the atmosphere. On Friday night whilst sitting at Rembrandt plain, two police officers came up to Vince and asked him for his 'Papers'. Shit! So you do need a licence to busk here! Then not long after, the strangest thing. A complete parade of police, fire and ambulance's went past, all with the sirens blaring! There must of have been about 15-20 vehicles, I thought, wow, what is happening here! There is now a mobile police station at Rembrandt plan keeping watch. And I am always seeing Politte everywhere. Still not as much as Liverpool, but immensely more than last time I was here. On the second night I was here, a policeman stopped me for riding on the wrong side of the road. I used my Britishness and all was good. I think if they are to bring the laws in on selling weed to foreigners, then they will need a heavy police presence to enforce it. because you know, there are gonna be dealers EVERYWHERE! it's not as if weed will just disappear from the city. But maybe this is why I am seeing such a change in the atmosphere here. Why not let the pot heads from around the world come and spend a few hundred Euros for a toke of freedom? Supply will always meet demand! But it seems they will stubbornly enforce this stupid law and ignore the rise in crime and disturbance that will inevitably come. After the police parade I got on my bike and was in dire need of a piss. It's hard to find a place to piss in Amsterdam, but I headed East and just decided to get a bit lost on my bike. Then the sirens again, all of them blurring down the road. I stopped and watched, and just wondered what on earth was the goal of this. Seeing Vince get asked for a licence to busk worried me, and I thought I had better be careful about taking my amp out.
One thing Amsterdam teaches me is patience and responsibility. Having the freedom to enjoy a smoke whenever you want makes it a different feeling all together. In England the illegality of it dictates when you can smoke it and where, and always gotta hide. Here, it is something to be enjoyed. There is this coffee shop in Rembrandt plain called Balou. It is right by my busking bridge, and I went there a lot last year. So much so that the guy recognised me, and said 'Hey, it's been a while!' I would make enough from busking to get me a little smoke and a cuppa and always enjoyed that coffee shop (mostly for the fact it was the closest.) I like to really enjoy a joint, not smoke too much and get green out my head. I only have one joint in a coffee shop, and then I go riding. I space my day out by this. I already had a little bit of smoke left, and then went in to the shop to order a coffee. It was a different guy working there, this fat guy, with a kind of, what I lack emotionally, I overstate, look in his eyes. I asked him for a coffee and he said you gotta buy some weed. I said I already have some left from yesterday', he said 'This is how we make our money, so buy some weed, it's always the same with you, you buy a cup of coffee and smoke 1 joint.' I said 'excuse me, I have made this my local and really enjoy coming here, so I don't want to get stoned out of my head, but just enjoy a smoke. I am sure you make quite a bit from drink sales as well.' He put his head down and just pointed at the weed menu. I left, and never have, and never will return.
There have been little things, like more people asking me for money, and people stepping out in front of me with mad eyes as I ride. Last year, in the whole 2 months, I was asked for 20 cents just once! None of this dampens my love for this city. On the contrary, I am excited to be here to witness the changes she is going through and how she will shape and resist the changes asked of her.........
90 Degrees
Ok, so lets take it back to Paris. It is a amazing city, with
beautiful, affectionate and passionate people. But I didn't feel it was
the place for a broke English musician. It has many rich kids with
expensive tastes and I didn't feel I fully belonged there. I awoke at
dawn to catch my ride to Amsterdam.........
The girl I met who said she would give me a ride with her boyfriend, loved the Beatles, Dylan and a lot of the same music as me. Also, her boyfriend was Australian, so we spoke Gods language of English the whole way there, while listening to goood music. It was beautifully clear and sunny the whole journey there. I remember the same journey from Paris to Amsterdam last year, and it was rainy and grey all the way there, then once we got to Amsterdam this clear blue patch was above the whole city, and the sunlight shone on the city I immediately fell in love with. With the music blasting in our little car we talked about music, life and the magic of Amsterdam. There was meant to be another guy travelling with us, but he couldnt make it at the last minute, and this was very lucky for me, as there would not have been room for all my stuff otherwise. We just about managed to squeaze the suitcase in, and I had Martha on my knees. Cato, who I met at the Magneet and went on to record a brilliant album with in Liverpool said I could stay with her for a few days, I didn't write the address down though, and just thought I would remember it. Something I later regretted.
I was dropped off in the South of Amsterdam and bunked the tram to the centrum. I remember it was tram line 9, but no idea what stop or anything. I got to the centre and smoked a cigarette. I know I talk about it alot, but it is a lot of stuff I have to carry, that is awkward, you cant fit into a shop, you cant go the toilet. I was carrying my body weight in the bags. I got on the tram on line number 9, and the woman asked me which stop I wanted, I said I didn't know and I was just gonna get off when it feels right. She smiled and said OK. Each stop we approached, she would say 'this one?' and I would say Hmmm No. I was starting to feel like I really should get off. I couldnt recognise anything around me, and felt I might have gone a bit far. I got off the tram and looked around. Since I decided to go travelling, I have felt incredibly lucky, things just seemed to work out perfectly, whenever I was lost, I would find where I needed to go. I was praying that my luck would see me through here and take me to Cato's. I walked for about 15 minutes and came accross a street that felt really familiar. I was 60 percent sure it was here. I walked straight up to the door and couldn't see Cato's name on any of the buzzers. Damn it felt so right it was here! If I had of turned my head 90 degrees and looked behind me, I would have seen her window! I didn't turn round, instead I went back the way I came and walked for 2 hours up the street, every 5-10 minutes I would have to stop, as I just couldn't walk with all this stuff! I went into a coffee shop in the hope they had internet or a phone, but no. Then this French lad who overheard me talking to the woman said 'Hey, you need to make a call?' I thanked him from the bottom of my heart with a CD and phoned Cato. She gave me directions to meet her, and I set off there again. When I met her at exactly the same place I arrived at previously, I couldnt believe it! I laughed at lucks irony and went inside her place.
The first time I came to Amsterdam, I was very alone. For the first 2 weeks I didn't know anyone, but just fell in love with the city. I would ride round for hours getting lost and smiling to myself at it's beauty and wonder, it's peacefulness. It was only when I joined the Magneet festival that I really met people who I would be spending time with, and learning more about Dutch culture. I remember those first 2 weeks well, I was very alone, and in love with the city. This time, coming straight into the home of Cato and her family and with a big list of people to catch up with from the festival I didn't feel alone, and had a very different feeling about the city. This time I felt I knew her a bit better after 2 months here last year. Now, the attitude and lives of the Dutch people is what I fell in love with. Cato has these 2 very wonderful children, who have a sparkle in their eyes, no television and a loving creative home to nurture them to the greatness and success I feel sure they will both achieve in their lives. Her partner is a chess master, who studies the game and plays constantly. I love a game of chess, but this is a completely different level! I have always believed chess is an excercise for the mind, about thinking ahead and thinking strategically. It is good for you. Chiel is a very tall, sharp and patient man with bright eyes and a deep love for being a father. Cato, is a musical genius. Improvising constantly in her music, her language, her melodies. I had the pleasure of recording an album with her, and when you see such exceptionally natural brilliance, and a voice that sings in tones of such purity, it is always inspiring to watch, and even more so to be a part of. There is a piano in their house, musical instruments everywhere, pens and paper with pictures the kids have drawn up everywhere. Creativity is there, but not enforced. I think that makes such a difference, let a child find what they want to do creatively or musically, not tell them or make them take lessons. Let them find their own love for creating. And this house is perfect for that. Isaak the boy, looks just like his dad. A shaggy head of blonde hair and care free eyes. Sophie looks just like her mum, sharp, bright searching eyes and a creative spark that you know will never be satisfied. There was this moment, while I was playing guitar in the back room, and Isaak was sitting on Geels knee while he was figuring out a chess problem, the light from the windows shone in their eyes and this image will always stay with me. It was like one of those perfect picture moments, a proud father with his son, looking so alike except in size. I have always felt glad that I had never had kids, as I am free from responsibility, but there are times like this one, when you realise how special being a dad is. In Liverpool I can get pretty tired at watching young angry teen mothers scream at their children and hit them, and speak in that horrid tone. But being around this family made me very happy inside. I have happy memories of my childhood, and being around Cato and her family evoked a lot of them. Always holding and playing with the kids, taking them outside to get muddy from playing and exploring and meeting other kids. Another beautiful memory is when Cato was practising her pieces for her show, Sanna (Chiel's friend who is also staying there, and another chess master) started singing together. Sanna has this amazing Baritone voice, and mixed with Cato's which is like one of those voices you hear in black and white, very pure. They sung Go Down Moses together and I just closed my eyes and listened.....
After putting all my stuff down in her place, I enjoyed a beer with everyone but was already gurning to take a bike out. I felt like after walking for those hours it would feel like I was stretching my legs, And it was! God, I love to ride a bike in Amsterdam. A joint and a bike ride is a truly amazing experience! I borrowed Chiel's bike and went straght to my old spots, Rembrandt plain, my (now ex) local coffee shop and my beloved bridge. I parked my fiet and walked around, I came accross a busker with a double bass singing some old rock n roll. I had just had a joint so threw him a Euro and stood and listened. Then, more people started to stand round, and then this woman who was with her boyfriend I seen just started edging as close as she could to the busker with that 'take a pic for facebook smile' I laughed and felt glad I didn't have no camera. It was getting late so I needed to get back home....But spending this first night back in Amsterdam made me realise how much I love her. It's where the party is man. It's where you can buy nice weed, it's where the legends are, it's where you can get anywhere in the city on your bike, it's where buskers play in peaceful bliss to stoned passer by's. It's where the beautiful girls are, fiesty tall Dutch girls with long strong legs, it's where the houses like matchstick boxes are. It felt good to be back. Amsterdam is not a capital city that imposes on you in any way. From it's laws, to it's transport, to it's people, to it's buildings. I have never felt scared once in Amsterdam even through all my crazy experiences here. I feel safe here, and will be here for the next five months at least.
I was hoping to get my first week down in this chapter, but only managed my first night! See what I mean when I say so much has happened. You still need to hear the story of Rusty Springwheel and my friends the ducks! And the break up of the midget and the cowboy! Plus my LEGENDARY week with Ron and Elaine. So much to tell, and so much time to tell it!
The girl I met who said she would give me a ride with her boyfriend, loved the Beatles, Dylan and a lot of the same music as me. Also, her boyfriend was Australian, so we spoke Gods language of English the whole way there, while listening to goood music. It was beautifully clear and sunny the whole journey there. I remember the same journey from Paris to Amsterdam last year, and it was rainy and grey all the way there, then once we got to Amsterdam this clear blue patch was above the whole city, and the sunlight shone on the city I immediately fell in love with. With the music blasting in our little car we talked about music, life and the magic of Amsterdam. There was meant to be another guy travelling with us, but he couldnt make it at the last minute, and this was very lucky for me, as there would not have been room for all my stuff otherwise. We just about managed to squeaze the suitcase in, and I had Martha on my knees. Cato, who I met at the Magneet and went on to record a brilliant album with in Liverpool said I could stay with her for a few days, I didn't write the address down though, and just thought I would remember it. Something I later regretted.
I was dropped off in the South of Amsterdam and bunked the tram to the centrum. I remember it was tram line 9, but no idea what stop or anything. I got to the centre and smoked a cigarette. I know I talk about it alot, but it is a lot of stuff I have to carry, that is awkward, you cant fit into a shop, you cant go the toilet. I was carrying my body weight in the bags. I got on the tram on line number 9, and the woman asked me which stop I wanted, I said I didn't know and I was just gonna get off when it feels right. She smiled and said OK. Each stop we approached, she would say 'this one?' and I would say Hmmm No. I was starting to feel like I really should get off. I couldnt recognise anything around me, and felt I might have gone a bit far. I got off the tram and looked around. Since I decided to go travelling, I have felt incredibly lucky, things just seemed to work out perfectly, whenever I was lost, I would find where I needed to go. I was praying that my luck would see me through here and take me to Cato's. I walked for about 15 minutes and came accross a street that felt really familiar. I was 60 percent sure it was here. I walked straight up to the door and couldn't see Cato's name on any of the buzzers. Damn it felt so right it was here! If I had of turned my head 90 degrees and looked behind me, I would have seen her window! I didn't turn round, instead I went back the way I came and walked for 2 hours up the street, every 5-10 minutes I would have to stop, as I just couldn't walk with all this stuff! I went into a coffee shop in the hope they had internet or a phone, but no. Then this French lad who overheard me talking to the woman said 'Hey, you need to make a call?' I thanked him from the bottom of my heart with a CD and phoned Cato. She gave me directions to meet her, and I set off there again. When I met her at exactly the same place I arrived at previously, I couldnt believe it! I laughed at lucks irony and went inside her place.
The first time I came to Amsterdam, I was very alone. For the first 2 weeks I didn't know anyone, but just fell in love with the city. I would ride round for hours getting lost and smiling to myself at it's beauty and wonder, it's peacefulness. It was only when I joined the Magneet festival that I really met people who I would be spending time with, and learning more about Dutch culture. I remember those first 2 weeks well, I was very alone, and in love with the city. This time, coming straight into the home of Cato and her family and with a big list of people to catch up with from the festival I didn't feel alone, and had a very different feeling about the city. This time I felt I knew her a bit better after 2 months here last year. Now, the attitude and lives of the Dutch people is what I fell in love with. Cato has these 2 very wonderful children, who have a sparkle in their eyes, no television and a loving creative home to nurture them to the greatness and success I feel sure they will both achieve in their lives. Her partner is a chess master, who studies the game and plays constantly. I love a game of chess, but this is a completely different level! I have always believed chess is an excercise for the mind, about thinking ahead and thinking strategically. It is good for you. Chiel is a very tall, sharp and patient man with bright eyes and a deep love for being a father. Cato, is a musical genius. Improvising constantly in her music, her language, her melodies. I had the pleasure of recording an album with her, and when you see such exceptionally natural brilliance, and a voice that sings in tones of such purity, it is always inspiring to watch, and even more so to be a part of. There is a piano in their house, musical instruments everywhere, pens and paper with pictures the kids have drawn up everywhere. Creativity is there, but not enforced. I think that makes such a difference, let a child find what they want to do creatively or musically, not tell them or make them take lessons. Let them find their own love for creating. And this house is perfect for that. Isaak the boy, looks just like his dad. A shaggy head of blonde hair and care free eyes. Sophie looks just like her mum, sharp, bright searching eyes and a creative spark that you know will never be satisfied. There was this moment, while I was playing guitar in the back room, and Isaak was sitting on Geels knee while he was figuring out a chess problem, the light from the windows shone in their eyes and this image will always stay with me. It was like one of those perfect picture moments, a proud father with his son, looking so alike except in size. I have always felt glad that I had never had kids, as I am free from responsibility, but there are times like this one, when you realise how special being a dad is. In Liverpool I can get pretty tired at watching young angry teen mothers scream at their children and hit them, and speak in that horrid tone. But being around this family made me very happy inside. I have happy memories of my childhood, and being around Cato and her family evoked a lot of them. Always holding and playing with the kids, taking them outside to get muddy from playing and exploring and meeting other kids. Another beautiful memory is when Cato was practising her pieces for her show, Sanna (Chiel's friend who is also staying there, and another chess master) started singing together. Sanna has this amazing Baritone voice, and mixed with Cato's which is like one of those voices you hear in black and white, very pure. They sung Go Down Moses together and I just closed my eyes and listened.....
After putting all my stuff down in her place, I enjoyed a beer with everyone but was already gurning to take a bike out. I felt like after walking for those hours it would feel like I was stretching my legs, And it was! God, I love to ride a bike in Amsterdam. A joint and a bike ride is a truly amazing experience! I borrowed Chiel's bike and went straght to my old spots, Rembrandt plain, my (now ex) local coffee shop and my beloved bridge. I parked my fiet and walked around, I came accross a busker with a double bass singing some old rock n roll. I had just had a joint so threw him a Euro and stood and listened. Then, more people started to stand round, and then this woman who was with her boyfriend I seen just started edging as close as she could to the busker with that 'take a pic for facebook smile' I laughed and felt glad I didn't have no camera. It was getting late so I needed to get back home....But spending this first night back in Amsterdam made me realise how much I love her. It's where the party is man. It's where you can buy nice weed, it's where the legends are, it's where you can get anywhere in the city on your bike, it's where buskers play in peaceful bliss to stoned passer by's. It's where the beautiful girls are, fiesty tall Dutch girls with long strong legs, it's where the houses like matchstick boxes are. It felt good to be back. Amsterdam is not a capital city that imposes on you in any way. From it's laws, to it's transport, to it's people, to it's buildings. I have never felt scared once in Amsterdam even through all my crazy experiences here. I feel safe here, and will be here for the next five months at least.
I was hoping to get my first week down in this chapter, but only managed my first night! See what I mean when I say so much has happened. You still need to hear the story of Rusty Springwheel and my friends the ducks! And the break up of the midget and the cowboy! Plus my LEGENDARY week with Ron and Elaine. So much to tell, and so much time to tell it!
East Or West
East or West
I drew my last 20 euroes out of the cash machine, and cruised with Ron down to the train station, it was an absolutley amazing time with him and Elaine, that was hard to part from, but I felt a few weeks in Amsterdam while Ron gets ready for his exhibition will be good to get some money in and then we can set the studio up in our new place 'The White House'. It was 10 Euroes to get to Amsterdam, so once again everything I owned went with me on train and automobile to Amsterdam. I was meeting up with Alix, a French girl I met in Paris, she was visiting for the weekend so I walked from the station to meet her. God, I miss my bike when I am walking in Amsterdam. You don't realise how much distance you cover on your bike. I think I do about 20km a day. I drink lots of water, buy my baguette and cheese in the day and I always share it with these ducks I know. Anyway, I really felt the weight of the luggage and walking for an hour with a heavy load to Rembrandt plain was my first check point. My friend from Magneet, Bart said I could stay at his place even though he was away, so I was very glad to be having a base I could drop this heavy load at and get to busking and biking round my beautiful Amsterdam again. Arriving at Rembrandt plain as a golden sunset was in its most reflective, Vince, a reggae busker was playing there, I remember him from last year, he is top quality. Infact, in my ledger last time, I rated all the buskers I seen, and he was one of the best. I met up with Alix and her friend and she let me use her phone to phone Bart, no answer. I tried again a few times and still no word, I began to worry and tried a few other friends I knew, but no repsonse. I prepared myself for a night on the streets, it was a tropically hot evening and I knew Amsterdam better now than on the first night I arrived last year, when I thought I would have to stay on the streets. So, I was a bit more confident this time....
I asked Alix if she would look after my stuff while I did an hours busking just round the corner at my old bridge. They waited in my local coffee shop and I did my first busk since being back in Amsterdam. I made 9e50 in 40 minutes and felt it was Amsterdams way of buying me a smoke and saying welcome back. I rejoined Alix and enjoyed a joint. Still no repsonse and nearly midnight. I filled my flask up with water, got my coat and scarf out of my bag and thought about a plan for the night. Alix would let me keep my bag and suticase at her hostel and I will pick it up in the morning. We put the stuff in the hostel and then drank at the bar until about 3, I was preparing to leave when Alix's phone rang, it was Bart with an address and location of the spare key! Ok, so I need a plan. Its 3 am I have only a faint idea where the address is, no bike and still a heavy bag and guitar with me. When I arrived in Amsterdam 2 weeks ago I stayed with Cato and she bestowed upon me a very wonderful dutch bike. I wedded her and she became 'Rusty Springwheel' I have a whole chapter to write on the characters of bikes in this city, and my first week in Amsterdam, but for now, it was 3 am and I still had the key to her, so I could walk to the East and find the bike, or head West and hope to find Barts. I took my compass out, and headed East. I hope her wheels still have breathe in them, she was only given 3 days to live by the fietsman. I had faith in her though, she is 70 years old, and is rusted all over. Her bell was mute, and her tyre ripped. She was heavy riding at first, until I was riding through Ooster park and I just felt like someone was pushing me, it was Rusty Springwheel coming to life! All of her sudden her steering loosened, she was getting faster and not breathing so heavy (when the tire rubs the frame) I bought her a new bell and set of night eyes and we have bonded great. I was hoping she was still there, GOD please let her have air in her tyres was all I could say over and over again. I had been walking for 2 hours solid with my stuff and my feet and ankles were really starting to give in when I came close to where I had parked her. The tyres looked flat, but that could just be a the way she is leaning, I came closer, if they were flat I would be the other side of Amsterdam with no wheels and no energy in me. I came closer, they looked good! I reached down and grabbed her and she was fully pumped front and back! I blew a kiss to the stars unlocked her and said hello. She was glad to see me again, and I to see her. Genuinely.
It was after 5am and the sun was rising. I had saved myself a joints worth and headed to my favourite spot in flevo park. It is a beautiful clearing hidden away, facing East. You can see the dykes of the Magneet festival in the distance and feel a very special festival brewing there in a few months. Sitting on a log in this beautiful clearing, I watched this burning red sunrise, which slowly filled the sky with a golden morning light that was waking all the life around the river. My friends the ducks came to say hello to me. I was playing guitar and a young lad and girl came over and joined me. We said nothing to eachother, we just enjoyed this very beautiful red sunrise. They gave me a cooked pancake, which was delicous as I was very hungry at this time. I played them some guitar as we just sat there under this golden first light. I stayed there untill around 7 am then went to try and find my way to Barts house......
I didn't realise how tired I was. My legs were so heavy, my mind was starting to make blotches in my vision from lack of sleep. I had my last 5 euroes in the world and was tempted to buy some breakfast, but wanted to wait until 10 to get a baguette and cheese from the good old Albert Heijn. It was approaching 8am when I got to the centre. I knew Alix needed to check out at 10, so I tried to remember my way to Barts, and after about an hours riding I found it! I found the spare key from the hiding space and went in the front door. The key to his appartment took me 30 mins to open, it was one of those sweet spot locks. All kinds were going through my mind, 'What if the locks had changed, and he forgot'. Clink....It opened! I threw my stuff down and just collapsed. After a few hours of sleeping Alix was phoning me to come pick my bags up. I slapped my face a bit to wake up, and set out to centrum again. I drunk her beer that echoed in my bare belly and hoped it would give me a blast of energy for what I needed to accomplish. Picture the scene if you will... A 70 year old bike with a split ruptured back wheel, hard peddler and creaky. A big suitcase bag. A back pack and me standing there swaying from tiredness. I heaved and lifted the big bag over my back. OW! It was ripping into my shoulders, and I still had my 70 litre back pack which I put round one arm. I tried to climb onto the bike and find the energy for an hours ride back to Barts place, I was wobbling all over the place, but I finally got a pace going, as long as I didnt have to stop. I did a few times. My head was down and I just tried to ride through the pain with an energy from somewhere. I made it though. I felt like kissing the floor, but I resisted and just slept.........
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