Traveling Light

All around, it’s water. What I have grown up with to think of as land is now nothing but a myth. There was Dubai, with its ‘waterfront’ developments made with reclaimed land. But this Dutch landscape is a whole other story. From the plane window I viewed a vast landscape of farmland with shiny dividing lines - which I realised were all water. The canals have been dug for miles upon miles to enhance land access, farming outcomes and to make land viable. It’s so clean here also. Clean and meticulous. The houses are modest yet somehow also grand, and the windows go right out to the street, without much privacy. It’s clear that children, older people and students all live here together happily. Street after street of mixed housing, with nearby shops. Both plane and train journeys showed off a country that looks very much like the Dutch have got their shit together. Fields of colour, water lands and wind farms. Functioning public transport, clean airport, free flowing traffic. I walk t...

I’m about to embark on the really, really meaningful part of my journey. The Netherlands, especially Noordwijk aan See, my Opa’s hometown, my ‘other’ homeland. It’s a quick farewell to Phillippa at the airport. She is on her way home to her family on an Emirates flight. I’ll miss her during the next few days of my travels, she has been an amazing travel partner! More to come in my reflections later. I have a mild hiccup with my check-in so I jump the queue and get immediate help. Fly approx 1.5 hours to Amsterdam airport. Get a train to Leiden. It’s all too easy. And clean. I’ve booked a hotel using Phillippa’s criteria - close to the action, close to the station, and comfortable enough to take your shoes off. It’s been one of those ‘travel days’ and it’s now already late in the day. I must eat dinner and take a walk around this new city. I’m greeted with one of those school holidays fair grounds, right outside my hotel. Teenagers are everywhere. A few doors down I find an Argentinian ...

It’s one of those days when we wake and have nothing planned. Except lunch, which will be at one of the amazing steak restaurants we have walked past and thought ‘must go there’. It’s check-out day so we pack our suitcases once more, mine is getting a bit tight so I use the extendable zip to let it out, and store them at the hotel while we head out for some more entertainment in Florence. We stumble upon another gallery and go in. It is rather provocatively titled, and proves to be provocative in content. I’ll just share a few photos of the art, but most of it is not suitable for this blog. It’s great to see something completely different to the renaissance and religious art, but the nature of the work in this exhibition leaves me feeling a bit gloomy. To perk up, there’s always fashion. Gucci is right there and we’re in Italy after all so we go in for a look. The prices are mind blowing (£850 for a pair of sneakers, for example) and the staff follow us around like hawks. But it’s o...

I’m losing track of days. I think it’s Friday - Good Friday, meaning a public holiday? Will the shops and galleries even be open? Phil wakes with cold symptoms. She battles through breakfast (again, a triumph of fresh fruit and vegetables and darling dollops of mozzarella, so cute they belong in the Easter egg hunts that are soon to take place around the world in various forms - more on that later). We purchase some ibuprofen  and head up the hill to get the views. It’s a popular tourist trek through tended gardens with bronze sculptures that would not be out of place in Wellington’s botanical gardens. At the top, the views are pretty incredible. Phillippa remarks that I’ve come to the other side of the world for this, and she’s right. It’s a bit of a moment as I take in the views and know it will likely be the only time I see it. Around lunchtime, we  hit the galleries again to use up the value of our tickets, but more-so, to try and recover our appreciation of art galler...