In De Waag

you look left then right then left again. then you take your first step out onto the road only to almost be run over by yet another cyclist. This one is carrying a ladder and is about to get to work across the canal, through the traffic, over the tram tracks and next to the little old lady who is also riding her bike and taking her grandhcildern in the same bike on some flimsy seat that looks like it's going to break. and of course there are no helmets being worn, because this is Europe. Protective headgear... never.

but it works somehow and people seem to be really 'living'.

So I'm in Amsterdam. the land of red lights, curtains, chips and mayonnaise, weed, mushrooms, Van Gogh, Anne Frank and Bikes. Dis lekker om Afrikaanse te praat. Ek verstaan almal en probeer met my taal but inevitably get caught out when I just sound simple.

I'm onto my third cup of coffee today. And it is just coffee, this time. I'm sitting in De Waag. some famous old building that reminds me of being in Constantia. I feel at home here - bring on those shutters, gables, wood panelling and old Kerks.

tomorrow I am off to Terschelling Island. A small island up north where thousands descend on the small space for a week of culture, mayhem, theatre, forest walks and music(I'm guessing)
I'm pitching a tent. Yes people, me, a tent, and my sleeping bag, which will finally get some use on this trip. Who would've thought it sat in my bag and looked pretty until now.

More news on the side of the trip.