Marken - Volendam - Edam
For about 9€, you can get a “Waterland ticket” and travel on the Arriva buses all day. Because of the construction work at the Amsterdam Centraal station, we couldn’t locate the busstops and must’ve wasted close to an hour looking for them. Finally these stickers on the floor led us to the right place:
Arriva stickers on the floor outside Amsterdam Centraal Station
When we visited Marken, I was close to cycling but wasn’t quite there yet. During the walk to the lighthouse along the IJsselmeer (Lake IJssel), I badly wished I knew how to cycle. That night I dreamed of cycling along this path. The very next day all the pieces would fall in place.
On way to the lighthouse at Marken
There is another reason why I won’t forget Marken - the breathtaking views. Against a distant silhouette of tall buildings, the sailboats, yatchs and sloops with their white sails zigzagged in the distance:
The IJsselmeer and beyond
After a little rest at the lighthouse, we took a bus to Volendam.
The lighthouse at Marken
A short walk from the bus stop in Volendam got us to the harbour. The cafés around the harbour are a great place to catch your breath and stare at the traditional fishing boats (which looked like they had jumped straight out of an 18th century painting).
Old fishing boats at Voldendam
Just a little off the harbour is this row of houses that we quite envied. We see the river from the window, but nothing like what the view from the first floor here must be…
The view from these houses in Voldendam must be quite something
Our final stop for the day was at Edam. It was just six in the evening, but Edam felt like a ghost town. We were quite content walking in the quiet along the canals…
Old houses, cars and canals in Edam
and in the parks…
A park in Edam
A search for the Edam Fort brought us to a camping/mooring site, where my then non-existent cycling skills were again sorely missed1. 
The Fort was found, but it looked closed. The light was rapidly declining and we had no intention of pottering around at a place which was getting spookier by the minute. We did the sensible thing of retracing our steps back to the bus stop and catching a bus home!
Now that I’ve been cycling decent distances (13-15 km in about an hour on a folding bike), I wonder if missing cycling sorely was better than a sore bottom.↩︎
Baa baa brown sheep
Baa baa brown sheep
P.S. Alternate title - ‘The sheep and the ship’ if you take into account the mast protruding into the frame on the right.
P.P.S. Yes, the green tags in the poor beast’s ears are rather unfortunate. That I am posting this on Gandhi’s Birthday (which is now the International Day of Non-Violence too), even more so.
P.P.P.S. If you are looking for an Indian rendition of the nursery rhyme, look no further than Rajshri Films.
In which I try to define homesickness
The hardest part about moving to a new country is not the new job, not the weather, not a new set of rules, mores and traditions, but homesickness. The mind maginfies the happier memories and ties the unpleasantness of bad traffic, noise, pollution, haggling with autos, powercuts, water-shortage and numerous other little stresses of life in India into a neat bundle and drowns it into the river of oblivion. You fondly remember a Utopian place that never really was, and begin feeling pangs of homesickness.
I thought I was missing being able to call my friends and meet them for a coffee, but after reflecting for a little longer, I realized that it wasn’t the case. Most of my friends in India were in different cities, if not in different countries. Even while I was in India, sometimes months would pass before I’d see my friends. Some just drifted out of my life after marriage. Others after kids.
I then wondered if it was the food. But that clearly wasn’t the case. I enjoy a good meal as much as anyone else but I am not a foodie. I won’t go chasing after my favourite dish. Monotony doesn’t bore me. As a vegeterian, my options here might not be as diverse as in India, but they are not so few that I would miss India.
During my eary days in Amsterdam, it was music that would trigger bouts of homesickness. I religiously avoided all Indian music for the first few months. It’s only now that I’ve been able to listen to Indian music without tears rolling down my cheeks. And then I came across this old clip from the cultural tele-magazine Surabhi:
I was in school (class 10, may be class 11) when the music of Roja made it big up north. Many memories came flooding back with this clip. And so it occured to me that I wasn’t missing the India I had recently left. I was missing the India I can never go back to - the India of the 90s. I also find it particulary strange that I should feel this way. I was bored and restless during the 90s (I was in my teens so all credit to me) and would’ve laughed at the notion of missing those days ever.
I now look at clips of some of the music I was listening to in college, and there is a certain innocence about the music (and the movies) of that time.
It’s not been that long since we left the 90s, but I already feel a sense of loss which moving here as accentuated. I guess it’s fair to call it homesickness after all.
Nijntje aka Miffy
These pictures were taken at a store selling Nijntje merchandise in Zaanse Schans.
Nijntje
Nijntje
The little Nijntje dolls on the bed looked like they were waiting for the Nijntje lamp to perform some divine act.
Sometimes it’s the mundane…
…that’s your most interesting memory of a visit to a new city. We were visiting Bruges after having spent 3 months living in Amsterdam. The streets, the canals and the architecture were all very beautiful, but they weren’t as magical as we had expected them to be. This door knocker, the doorhandle and the doorbell were:
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P.S.: Surely the owners of the last house don’t like guests paying them a visit. I would think twice before putting my finger into the mouth of a lion to ring the bell.
The Beatles after the break-up
I am a relatively recent fan of The Beatles. Also, I now live in a country where Apple has an iTunes music store. More importantly, I happened to move here just a few months after The Beatles’ entire catalogue became available on iTunes. I’ve been making up for lost time by buying one iTunes LP edition of their album each month.
I am quite impressed at how quickly The Beatles kept re-inventing themselves. Their music covered so much ground that any pop number I now listen to sounds like a derivate work. What I had not done so far was follow the music John, Paul, George and Ringo made after their break-up. I recently came across “Maybe I’m amazed” from Paul McCartney’s first solo album:
Sounds like The Beatles’ solo output is worth pursuing as well!