Ostsin endale eelmisel nädalal jalgratta. Ma ei ole küll maailma suurim rattafänn ja kuigi ma sageli eelistan hoopis jalutada, tundus see olevat asi, mis võiks igaks juhuks olemas olla. Ostsin siis ratta ühelt kohalikult portugallaselt, kes ise vanu rattaid üles putitab. Ma olen oma rohelisuses juba nii kaugele jõudnud, et isegi mu ratas on recycled. Igal juhul kõlas see esmapilgul hästi, ratas toimis nii nagu pidi ja laiali ei lagunenud. Vähemalt esimese kasutuskorra ajal. Kui ma siis tahtsin teist korda ratta välja tuua, et Central Stationisse (kohalik Balti Jaam, ent kordades korralikum!) sõita, et endale OV-Chipkaart (Kohalik transpordikaart, mida tuleb sõidukisse sisenemisel ja väljumisel vajalikus kohas näidata.) osta, tuli välja, et mu rattal on tagumine kumm tühi. Ega see esimene kumm ka enam esimeses nooruses polnud, aga tagumine oli tõeliselt omadega läbi. Seega viisin ratta vandudes (aga ainult mõttes, nagu viisakad tüdrukud kunagi) keldrisse, et see siis täna hommikul sealt suuri jõu- ja ilunumbreid kasutades jälle välja tarida. Kuna ma ratta peale istuda ei saanud, pidin selle igavese sunnikuga tegema pooletunnise romantilise jalutuskäigu läbi kesklinna. Kusjuures hommikupoole on läbi kesklinna jalutamine peaaegu et võimalik, seevastu peale lõunat poevad kõik punaste silmadega turistid oma urgudest välja ja ujutavad tänavad üle. Igatahes, kui ma oma rattaga siis lõpuks selle portugallase töökoja juurde jõudsin, oli uks kinni. Okei, midagi sellist olin ma eeldanud (kell oli 12, aga tundub, et mõne jaoks liiga varajane hommik, et pood lahti teha), seega parkisin oma ratta poe ette ja mõtlesin, et lähen avan vahepeal oma Hollandi pangakonto. Selleks otsisin üles ühe postkontori, kus muuseas oli ka ING (kohalik suur pank) lauake ja näitasin kõik vajalikud dokumendid ette. Konto avamiseks oli vaja ka mu aadressi ja kuna hollandlased kipuvad üldiselt mu häälduskatsetuste peale naerma, ütlesin ma ING’i tädile, et ta ootaks, ning koukisin oma kotist välja majutuslepingu. Ning samal ajal kui ta mingit ankeeti täitis, lõbustas tema kolleeg end sellega, et õpetas mind oma tänavanime ütlema. Plantage Muidergracht’i ei ole ausalt ka nii kerge öelda, kui esialgu saksa keele oskajaile tundub. Hollandi keeles kõlab see umbes nagu Plantaaže Möidegracht. Praeguseks oskan ma öelda veel ka tere, mis on Hallo ning aitäh, mis on Dank je wel.
Kui ma peale spontaanset hollandi keele tundi tagasi rattapoe ette jõudsin, ei olnud tüüp ikka välja ilmunud. Kuna asi tundus kahtlane, helistasin André’le, et küsida, kas too portugallane esmaspäeviti ikka töötab. Peale kontrollimist tuli välja, et ei. Ja taaskord ei saa ma öelda, et see mind just eriliselt üllatanud oleks. Aasta Portugalis oli minu jaoks piisav elukool portugallaste alal ja mind on juba suhteliselt raske üllatada. Jätsin ratta poe ette ning mõtlesin, et teen šopingutänaval ühe väikese tiiru, kuna too Vitor oli oma puhkepäevaga mu plaanid korralikult sassi löönud. Talvesaapaid oli mul nagunii vaja ning ühest ilusast jopest poleks ka ära öelnud. (Oma ema ja isa rahustuseks, kes siinkohal ilmselt kreepsu saavad, pean ma ütlema, et ei, ma ei ostnud midagi suurt ja kallist. Esialgu.) Peale umbes 10 jalatsipoe külastamist pidin ma alla vanduma ja endale tunnistama, et minu 39/40 suuruses jalg (olenevalt olukorrast) on Amsterdami standardite kohaselt liialt suur, sest kõik saapad, mis mulle meeldisid, lõppesid 38 juures ära.
Koduteel põikasin korraks sisse Van Haren’i nimelisse kingapoodi ning leidsin ühed täiesti ägedad kantavad saapad, mis maksid €24,99. Ja kui ma siis kõrvaltpoest endale veel pesukuivatusresti ka sain, olin ma juba suhteliselt rahul. Eriti rahul olin ma siis, kui lõpuks elusalt koju jõudsin, sest pesukuivatusrest üritas endale muudkui tuult alla võtta.
Last week I bought myself a bike. Even though I am not the biggest bike lover in the world and I tend to prefer walking, a bike sounded like something I could use here. So I bought it from a local portuguese guy, who fixes old bikes. It seems I am already so „green“ that even my bike is recycled. Anyway, at first it seemed like a nice idea: the bike worked well and didn’t fall apart. At least during the first time I used it. As I tried to use it the second time to go to the Central Station, to buy myself a OV-Chipkaart (local transport card), I found out that my bike has a flat tyre. So I took it back to the basement swearing. And I can tell you, getting this bike out of the basement always means some serious gymnastics!
This morning I had to take a romantic walk with my bike through the city centre. During the „early“ (around 12!) hours it is still quite possible to walk on the streets, but after lunch all the red-eyed tourists swarm out from their caves and flood the streets.
As I got to the bikeshop, the door was still closed. Alright, I actually knew something like this could happen (too early for the portuguese to work!), so I just parked my bike and went to find a place to open my Dutch bank account. I found an ING desk at one of the post offices and presented all the necessary documents. As the lady behind the desk asked for my address, I told her to wait a second and took out my accommodation agreement. I have tried pronouncing my street name (and a bunch of other words) so many times, but usually the Dutch just laugh at me, so I planned to avoid it this time. While the lady was filling up some documents for me, her colleague was having fun by trying to make me say my street name correctly. Really, it is not so easy to say Plantage Muidergracht as one with some knowledge of German would think. In Dutch it sounds something like Plantaaže Möidegracht. Until now I can also say Hallo and Dank je wel (which means thank you).
When I got back to the bike shop after my spontaneous Dutch class, the guy still hadn’t shown up. At this point I got a bit suspicious, so I called André to check if that dude works on Mondays at all. He called the guy and it appeared it was his day off. And again, I cannot say that I was too surprised. The year I spent in Portugal tought me a lot about those funny codfish-loving people and they really have to work hard if they want to surprise me now. I left my bike there where it was and figured I might as well walk along the shopping street a bit. I needed anyway some winterboots and I wouldn’t have said no to a nice warm jacket either. After checking about 10 shoestores I had to admit to myself that my 39/40 size (depending of the shoe) foot is too big for the Dutch standards as they just didn’t have such big numbers!
On my way home I decided to check a store that has really cheap shoes. Against all expectations I found a pair (yes, for my big feet!) that looked quite decent and costed only €24,99. I also found a rack for drying the clothes, so I was already quite pleased with my achievements for the day. And I was especially pleased when I finally got home as that rack was trying hard to catch some wind on the way back.
Kui ma peale spontaanset hollandi keele tundi tagasi rattapoe ette jõudsin, ei olnud tüüp ikka välja ilmunud. Kuna asi tundus kahtlane, helistasin André’le, et küsida, kas too portugallane esmaspäeviti ikka töötab. Peale kontrollimist tuli välja, et ei. Ja taaskord ei saa ma öelda, et see mind just eriliselt üllatanud oleks. Aasta Portugalis oli minu jaoks piisav elukool portugallaste alal ja mind on juba suhteliselt raske üllatada. Jätsin ratta poe ette ning mõtlesin, et teen šopingutänaval ühe väikese tiiru, kuna too Vitor oli oma puhkepäevaga mu plaanid korralikult sassi löönud. Talvesaapaid oli mul nagunii vaja ning ühest ilusast jopest poleks ka ära öelnud. (Oma ema ja isa rahustuseks, kes siinkohal ilmselt kreepsu saavad, pean ma ütlema, et ei, ma ei ostnud midagi suurt ja kallist. Esialgu.) Peale umbes 10 jalatsipoe külastamist pidin ma alla vanduma ja endale tunnistama, et minu 39/40 suuruses jalg (olenevalt olukorrast) on Amsterdami standardite kohaselt liialt suur, sest kõik saapad, mis mulle meeldisid, lõppesid 38 juures ära.
Koduteel põikasin korraks sisse Van Haren’i nimelisse kingapoodi ning leidsin ühed täiesti ägedad kantavad saapad, mis maksid €24,99. Ja kui ma siis kõrvaltpoest endale veel pesukuivatusresti ka sain, olin ma juba suhteliselt rahul. Eriti rahul olin ma siis, kui lõpuks elusalt koju jõudsin, sest pesukuivatusrest üritas endale muudkui tuult alla võtta.
Last week I bought myself a bike. Even though I am not the biggest bike lover in the world and I tend to prefer walking, a bike sounded like something I could use here. So I bought it from a local portuguese guy, who fixes old bikes. It seems I am already so „green“ that even my bike is recycled. Anyway, at first it seemed like a nice idea: the bike worked well and didn’t fall apart. At least during the first time I used it. As I tried to use it the second time to go to the Central Station, to buy myself a OV-Chipkaart (local transport card), I found out that my bike has a flat tyre. So I took it back to the basement swearing. And I can tell you, getting this bike out of the basement always means some serious gymnastics!
This morning I had to take a romantic walk with my bike through the city centre. During the „early“ (around 12!) hours it is still quite possible to walk on the streets, but after lunch all the red-eyed tourists swarm out from their caves and flood the streets.
As I got to the bikeshop, the door was still closed. Alright, I actually knew something like this could happen (too early for the portuguese to work!), so I just parked my bike and went to find a place to open my Dutch bank account. I found an ING desk at one of the post offices and presented all the necessary documents. As the lady behind the desk asked for my address, I told her to wait a second and took out my accommodation agreement. I have tried pronouncing my street name (and a bunch of other words) so many times, but usually the Dutch just laugh at me, so I planned to avoid it this time. While the lady was filling up some documents for me, her colleague was having fun by trying to make me say my street name correctly. Really, it is not so easy to say Plantage Muidergracht as one with some knowledge of German would think. In Dutch it sounds something like Plantaaže Möidegracht. Until now I can also say Hallo and Dank je wel (which means thank you).
When I got back to the bike shop after my spontaneous Dutch class, the guy still hadn’t shown up. At this point I got a bit suspicious, so I called André to check if that dude works on Mondays at all. He called the guy and it appeared it was his day off. And again, I cannot say that I was too surprised. The year I spent in Portugal tought me a lot about those funny codfish-loving people and they really have to work hard if they want to surprise me now. I left my bike there where it was and figured I might as well walk along the shopping street a bit. I needed anyway some winterboots and I wouldn’t have said no to a nice warm jacket either. After checking about 10 shoestores I had to admit to myself that my 39/40 size (depending of the shoe) foot is too big for the Dutch standards as they just didn’t have such big numbers!
On my way home I decided to check a store that has really cheap shoes. Against all expectations I found a pair (yes, for my big feet!) that looked quite decent and costed only €24,99. I also found a rack for drying the clothes, so I was already quite pleased with my achievements for the day. And I was especially pleased when I finally got home as that rack was trying hard to catch some wind on the way back.