Traipsing Through the German Forest

On Second Day Christmas (the 26th for all you non-Dutchies out there) my sister, her husband and I ventured out to see her in-laws. Heather had told me before how magical Timo's family's place in Germany was: an old inn in a village of three hundred right smack in the middle of the forest.

We don't often have times to disconnect in a world ruled by the Gods of Signal. Being there was like being in another time. Our days were spent venturing through the brush, and our nights huddled around the big dining table, fire to our backs, deep in conversation over cups of Glühwein (mulled wine).

Taking the dogs for a walk

Our merry band of travelers: Bernard, Sebastian, Timo and I

Abandoned brickworks

Frosted stream

Playing a little fetch in the fields

Heading back into the village

Perfect old German cottage

"Forest and Forestry Museum"

The family's Inn

The second day there we caught the tail end of a Christmas market the next town over. As I am quite crazy for Christmas this was spectacularly fun for me. The interesting building below is where you can get a steaming cup of mulled wine, or even eggnog (though by then I'd already had too much sugar). You give a deposit (a pfand) for a ceramic cup that your wine comes in. I think you really are meant to give the cup back and get back your 2€, but I kept it as a keepsake.

Glühwein at the Christmas Market, Germany

Charming architecture in Germany

Chomping down on a Nutella filled crepe... moments after a humongous bratwurst

Enjoying the fireside and a rustic German life

Sometimes I really think I could live out a rustic life. Long conversations and the slow way suite me.

My Heart is in Amsterdam

Every time I come to visit my family and friends in Amsterdam I leave a little bit of my heart behind.

I already miss this little monster. Coat by Calvin Klein, handmade scarf

I was born here, I grew up here, and yet I no longer live here. I know the streets well, I bike like an echt Amsterdams meisje and I find my Dutch only getting better and better. I hope that one day my story will take me back home, because The Netherlands is my home. When you grow up as a third culture kid your passport country is not always the place you feel is home. I am Dutch, passport or no.

Haarlemerstraat, NL

My sister lives on the Haarlemerstraat, a trendy neighborhood of Amsterdam. Every building here is beautiful and full of character.

Likeurtje from Walter Woodbury Bar and thrifted purse

One of the first nights I got back my sister and zwager (brother-in-law) took me to the Walter Woodbury Bar, a surprisingly North American style bar. I think my sister must feel a little homesick for Canada, and this is an establishment that feels like it belongs in Queen West (minus the delicious bitterballen on the menu).

Shoes by Bandolino, jeans by American Eagle and coat by Calvin Klein

Of course, arriving so close to Christmas I was shuttled about by my sisters for some last minute shopping. The Kalverstraat (the Walking Street) is the busiest place you could shop. It's like an outdoor mall, but it has everything you could ever need. I discovered a couple new brands like Monki, Pull and Bear, and Bershka.

Sabon on the Kalverstraat

Amsterdam Museum, Amsterdam NL

Coffee at Museumcafé Mokum

One of those shopping days I stumbled upon the Amsterdam Museum looking for a good cup of coffee. I love how the Dutch do coffee. Instead of drip they serve you a deliciously creamy long shot and almost always compliment you with a cookie.

Freshly made stroopwafel from the Dappermarkt, Amsterdam

I indulged in a little taste of my childhood while hunting through the bustling Dappermarkt. You can buy stroopwafels here in Canada, but it's not the same as having a freshly made one.

At the Tuschinski. Top by Scotch and Soda, jeans by American Eagle, bag by Matt and Nat and shoes by Ralph Lauren Denim and Supply

While in Amsterdam I caught The Hobbit. I have to say that I don't like how it was filmed - this whole more frames per minute thing makes me feel like I'm watching something low-budget. How ironic, and what a waste of production money! But seeing the movie in the glorious Art Deco Pathé Tuschinski theatre made the night worthwhile. If you travel to Amsterdam you just have to see this theatre, even if you don't actually see anything playing there.

Christmas Day in Amsterdam was sunny and bright

Christmas day I took the kids to a playground to keep the chaos out of the house for a little while. On the way I got distracted by one beautiful building. Inside was a courtyard and utter stillness. It was a seniors residence, with a neatly trimmed garden and a beautiful view.

Sisters compare hands

Later that week my sisters and I checked out the Amsterdam Light Festival. After talking which side of the family Rachel's kids take after, she turned to compare each of us. We all look alike in our own way, even if we don't look strongly like mum or dad. She had us compare our hand. Mine are like my mum's with long and knobbly fingers.

At the Amsterdam Light Festival

Artis Zoo, Amsterdam

The day before we left we took the kids to the Artis Zoo. I have so many childhood memories of traipsing around this zoo. I may have more memories of playing on the playground, to be honest, but I distinctly remember the tiger that I named Rajah (Ajay tells me this name is the equivalent of the English "Alistair").

A dirty Dutch tile

And just for fun, here's a dirty Dutch tile.

What place do you call home?

Home for the Holidays

A couple weeks ago my mum said to me "Here's an idea... why don't you go see your sisters for Christmas?" I grew up in Amsterdam; my parents used to work in the Netherlands. The big age difference between me and my sisters means that when we left for Canada, seven-year-old Lindsay didn't have much say, but Rachel and Heather were already out of the nest. Now they both have their own families in Amsterdam. It's hard being away from family, and I feel it the most around Christmas.

I wish I could say the trip there was easy going but you wouldn't believe my bad luck. Originally I was meant to fly to JFK and then to Schipol. The drive up to the airport was super foggy - we could see maybe five cars in front of us and that was it. Apparently New York had it worse. First my flight was delayed... then cancelled. I've never had a flight cancelled and I really didn't know what to do. 

I called my airline - they'd set up another flight for me the next day but I was anxious to leave and already had an itinerary (typical). I asked to be put on the next direct flight. No problem, it seemed. Except that when I ran for the KLM desk and out of breath handed over my passport I was told that I was technically on the plane, but my ticket hadn't been issued. 

I asked the desk about my checked bags and was told something like "that's not my jurisdiction". This woman really did not want to help me. She continued to tell me that since I missed my flight I was out of luck (great, you don't even know what flight I was on, super helpful!) Wonderful... "What's the next step that I can take?" I ask. You may not be polite, but I shall. She pointed vaguely to ask another person.

I called again to my airline and had someone confirm this. Then I was on hold as they tried to figure out my flight (attempt #4 if we're counting). 20 minutes later... dial-tone.

Since I had started with the airline on the phone, I had to complete the process over the phone. I called again and asked if they had the transcripts from my last conversations, the answer apparently was "no", and when I explained the non-issuing of the ticket the person I was speaking to this time completely denied that that was the case. I assured her that was correct and that KLM had confirmed this. but she insisted I was wrong. 

After being transferred to the supervisor, I struggled to get my bags back, finally figuring out who to ask. Eventually, after an hour on hold I was put on a flight from Toronto to Detroit to Amsterdam. With 20 minutes to run for the gate I quickly booked it. It was kind of like in Home Alone when the whole family runs through the airport, and when I got to the gate I asked, out of breath, if I had made it in time. "Yes you made it, the flight has been delayed." It was so delayed, in fact, that I would miss my connecting flight, extending my layover in Detroit to 14 hours. 

Crying, exhausted, I finally folded. Calling in one last time I booked the direct flight leaving the next day. And finally... I was off!

Me and all my luggage (JK)

I never have problems flying, but this was unreal. I made it, however, just in time for Christmas!

And look what was waiting for me when I got there...

A Canadian Reception

Last year my sister married the love of her life. Heather and Timo are a perfect balance for one another and I couldn't be happier for them. Their wedding was held in Amsterdam:

Seeing as how most of our family is in Canada, Heather and Timo hosted a second reception here in Toronto just last weekend. My mother has a wonderful garden and it was the perfect setting for their Canadian reception. Just as in their wedding our family buckled down to do some good old-fashioned DIY.

While Mum and I handled the garden and decorations with help from our family friend Wes, Heather and Timo handled the food. Timo is a chef back in the Netherlands and cooked up a storm of pulled pork, enough potato salad to feed a small nation and our favourite bean salad from the Ottolenghi cookbook. Heather made the cake, just as she did for their wedding day! (Talk about stressful. Can you imagine making your own wedding cake?) Their wedding topper, the iconic Dutch kissing kids was the perfect choice. 

And, of course my boyfriend performed admirably as he was interrogated by my family. How one person can charm a crowd like that I'll never know.

 
 

Oh hey Ajay

        Au Revoir!