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RICK'S BIG TRIP page 9 Oo-La-La! La
Paireeee ! That’s right, fellow fine
artists, romantic upper middle-class girly-girls, connoisseurs of all that is
fine and worthy of internationally renowned snobbery. I went to Paris. I know
you wanted to go, but sorry, it was me who went this time. Don’t be envious;
be happy for me. |
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Now that
you’ve come to terms with that, I’ll go on with my strory. I’ll start,
innocuously enough, with a few parting shots from Holland. Here’s one last
shot of that boat on the Singel. (Don’t get the idea that I’m getting stoned
all the time!, I just wanted you to have a chance to say good-bye to the only
Western country with sensible drug laws.) Oh, what a terribly tiny picture!
Well, you see, some of my more digitally disadvantaged friends have been
complaining that my pictures take too long to load, or don’t load at all with
their ancient internet connections. Alas, I’ll try to make my pictures at
least comprehensible, but not too big when not necessary. Now are you happy,
you early iron-age computer users?! Get a DSL connection! |
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What was
I saying about the size of the pictures? This one has to be big or you
couldn’t read the writing on it. This is from a public service ad campaign
that recently went up all over Holland. I first saw it while waiting for my
train to Paris. Yes, it’s
in English. To the ordinary American reader, the message here is obviously:
that it’s a good idea to drink a lot, and get into serious fights and
rampages, maybe with beer bottles and the like, causing your friends and
relatives, and maybe yourself to have stitches, for instance, around their
eyes. More drinking, less thinking! Yahoo!!! Saturday night’s alright! I can
only guess, because of my extensive personal experience with this unusually
sophisticated culture, that the Dutch mean this in a sort of ironical vein;
that is – if you’ll bear with me for a moment – they expect you to consider
the apparent message – more drinking, less thinking – and compare that with your
own values – no you don’t want you or your loved ones getting cut
up – and then you might spontaneously come to the conclusion that you’d like
to do more thinking and less drinking. A bit too much to think about? Yeah – forget about it! Have another shot of
Jack! |
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One last
image of Holland before I go. It’s so hard to say goodbye (for a week)!
Here’s the cover page of the free commuter newspaper, the Metro, as I was
getting on the train. That’s right, a detailed article covering an
international conference of avowed tree-huggers. Those people are putting
their hands on trees, friends. They’re meditatin’ on nature; they’re feelin’
the vibes; they’re on the front page of the commuter newspaper. When I
get back to Idyllwild, that’s what I’m gonna be doing too. |
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Just
passing through Belgium. Here’s one of the land-marks: a nuclear waste
producing facility, also known as a nuclear power generator. They don’t go
for that kind of nonsense in the Netherlands: they got all the windmills and
natural gas they need. But in
Belgium, well, things are a little different. |
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To tell
the truth, after about 5 weeks in Holland, I found Belgium fascinating – even
just passing through on the train. The buildings have so much character,
different colors and mixtures of old and new. Belgium was the place to be,
I guess about a hundred years ago, and they’ve still got the buildings to
show for it, run-down though many may be. And the buildings are colorful –
the architecture is festive – something that hasn’t really caught on
in the Netherlands. It was a breath of fresh air. |
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In
Belgium, I transferred onto the Thalys. That’s the high-speed train to Paris.
Really, very fast: large expanses of scenery just fly by! Of course, with my
Eurail Pass, I was riding First Class. But this I had not expected: the cabin
attendant – I mean what do you call the food service boy on a train? – he
came by with this complete gourmet meal, featuring a cold salmon salad
(bottom left), chicken, ham, some kind of salad of cubed cheese and
vegetables, a serving of some very good wine, spring water…I can’t even
remember half of the delicious details that made my taste buds sit up and
take notice. And after living in Holland eating boterhammen (slices of
bread with various toppings) and patat (fried potatoes) – Vive La
France! |
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Here we
are in my little hotel room. It’s a modest place: pealing paint, funky bed
with a plastic layer protecting you from what might be growing in the
mattress, broken shower hose…but I can recommend the place because the people
are nice and this room only cost me 30 bucks a night. Finally –
after being on trains all day and walking all the way here because I hadn’t
handled the cash and subway problems yet. It was a long hot walk through busy
city streets – I was glad to have a place to unload my pack! |
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Outside
my window you see the local terrace. It’s a Spanish place, maybe Argentine. Just
a typical little corner out-door eating place with a red awning, like they
have all over Paris. My home base. |
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NEXT PAGE….! |
