Introducing Mr Moystad and 'Hi' 'Hello' 'Hoegaanit' I'm back

yo wazzup

Okay so it’s been established that I’m lazy and back into the full swing of what has been coined ‘South African time’ by some of my Dutch friends who got awfully annoyed by my constant tardiness. If this doesn’t make sense to you, let me explain. Upon arrival in the Netherlands (ja, I’m back in South Africa in case you wondered) I was extremely flustered and taken aback by the efficiency of the Dutch people. The pace of everyday life in Amsterdam literally zooms past you and I had quickly learnt that if you don’t hurry up and catch on, you’ll miss your train, you’ll get cycled into by Lance Armstrong wannabes that seems to crowd the bicycle lanes, you’ll be shoved out the local supermarket with half of your groceries pouring from your hands and you’ll get a thousand heavy glances from these punctual Northern Europeans who simply cannot stand your inefficient incompetence. ANYWAY this is not the point. The point is that I got used to this fast paced way of life and now after being back for nearly two months, I have regressed and reverted back to the Sub-Saharan way of doing…casually and leisurely taking everything a quarter of a step at a time. LEKKER

I should stop boring you with this nonsense and move onto better and more interesting topics...So here am I to introduce you to Gus Moystad, one of the best people in life. Gus is my Northern Hemisphere counterpart. Just to familiarise you with this fab person, here are some fun facts about the man: 

He is from Dutch and Norwegian descent

He spent part of his childhood in Lebanon (COOL)

when I googled 'Beirut', this is what I got

He digs knights

Has a great love for graphic novels and introduced me to Jason, a Norwegian comic book genius

He has (what I consider to be) rather great taste in music

He sketches like a bossdawg

And he is just your general cool guy

 ALSO Gus gave me his favourite sweater to take home and now I practically live life floating in this cottony mass of  grey delight 

These are all the activities I've been enjoying whilst wearing this sweater (it also comes in handy seeing as we're currently living through one of the coldest winters known to strike the Western Cape in years)

running

dancing

dik ge-urt-ing

pretending to be a pagan deity

Besides all of these lovely characteristics, Gus is my cross-continental bestie and in order to keep contact and such, we have decided to co-blog. So as I ramble on about life in Africa, he will keep you posted on how life is seen, lived and experienced in Europe through the eyes of this dashing young intellectual. 

Okay, well Gus is currently still on VAC, chilling around Amsterdam so I’ll keep posting my virtual rants whilst he conjures up something exciting. Indeed I still have to write up about my sibling adventure, the last weeks in Amsterdam and THAT blues gig. But for now I bid you adieu and hope you find something more exciting to do this weekend than write a 1000 words on the theory of social justice, gaaaaaawd. til later ya'll

RECENTLY!

OH HEY GUYS!

 

yoh yoh yoh. sorry for neglecting my blog like this. I guess I have been super busy lately. BUSY LIVING because I'm so close to my last month here in Europe and it kinda freaks me out. I have so much to organise, write, memorise, laugh at, smile at, take in, experience and it's overwhelming...once again.

My brother dear is arriving on Saturday morning and it feels surreal imagining the boy in my living space. I simply cannot wait to show him around and see his eyes widen as he experiences his magical city. And next week, Michael and I are embarking on our sibling-bonding Euro-trip. Berlin, Krakow, Prague and Munich by means of interrrail and CouchSurfing. It's been a bit stressful organising this trip, but I think it will all work out. It's Europe right...what could possibly go wrong? HA! "A lot" I here you say, but I believe that we'll be just fine and if all else fails, it will still be an experience we wouldn't been able to have at home.

I do have a few current worries. First on the list is organising a bicycles for us, keys for the flat, buying train tickets, finishing an 8 page essay on Postmodern literature. But the sun is shining and the living is easy and I feel good...so nothing is getting me down at the moment. ADDED BONUS: when Mike and I get back from our trip, we will encounter 4 of the best, craziest MOFO's arriving in Amsterdam. yessah! Four of my friends are coming to visit, so I'll play tour-guide and teach the kids a thing or two about Dutch culture. Van Gogh, cycling without breaks or gears, survival tips on big city life, how to shop for cheap food, how to get yer groove on Amsterdam style, y'know. Show them the ropes.

ELKGEVAL...enough admin talk. Here is what I have been up to. On the 29th of April we celebrated Koninginnenag (Queens night) in Amsterdam and the next day we rolled into Koninginnedag (Queens Day) which marks the birthday of Queen Juliana, the mother and predecessor of the current Dutch Queen Beatrix (whose actual birthday is on the 31st of January). I guess they just kept the date for admin purposes. Makes sense right? Quick interval of totally irrelevant information: There is a Princess Marijke, I am famous yo! She is the youngest daughter of the previously mentioned Queen Juliana and sister of Beatrix. BAM! Royalty check.

Princess Marijke - Isn't she a cutie?

Anyway, back to Queens Day. So after Queens Night I was feeling a tad queasy and didn't really feel up to a day of festivties. But Catherine came back to the flat with a pair of Doc Marten boots in MINT condition which she purchased for 5 euros and that made me jump out of bed, fly out the flat and experience the greatest thing in the world... the Vrijmarkt which is Dutch for 'Freemarket'. The entire city was full of stalls selling clothing and used goods at SUPER LOW prices. Man we went cray. It was absolutely amazing, an entire day dedicated to free trade. Hmmm... the Dutch just can't seem to get enough of trade.

This day also sees 800 000 visitors to the city. Although Queens Day is celebrated throughout the country, people flock to Amsterdam as the biggest party happens right here.
They shut down all public transport systems to the city centre and the streets are brimming with masses of orange clad grooving troopers. The day was blessed with AMAZING weather and we all missioned around in summers outfits. We bought silly coats, tried to get on a party boat (which failed), danced in the street, went to fun rides and saw the entire city from high above on a merry go round contraption that seems to defy gravity. It was a good day to say the least.
We all pretty much failed to be orange, but we still had a good time in the sun. With the entire city drunk and orange, the place was a mess by the end of the day. We sat in Vondelpark as the sun was setting and pieces of rubbish kept blowing into our faces, most hilarious and slightly unpleasant.
We even went out for round 3 that night, but the town was pretty much dead, except for a few die-hard party goers who were bouncing around on their last legs. The streets were empty like a desert scene from the Mid-West, but instead of tumble-weed, we had crisps packets and plastic- bags and cups dancing in the wind.

So here are some photos of the day (My friends might recognise these from facebook, but for the rest...enjoy)

Saskia was doing it right

professional biking

queens night!

maggie and I

free market fun!

partay boat

partay boat close up

this is where we jammed it out

dutch beer goggles, haha

amazingly nauseating.

Vondelpark :D

silly coat is coming back with me. FOR SURE.

sies!

and the day ended in Maccie-dees. with real class.

My squint-eyed love

an ode to RADIOHEAD and Thom. I've always felt great sympathy towards Mr Yorke and his droopy eye, because I myself have often times been cursed with a swollen left eye due to spring time pollen and my apparent allergery to penicillin. But Thom has always given me new hope when my eye starts acting up and my confidence gets crushed. He has become a beckon of hope to those of us who suffer from temporary or permanent eye troubles. What a champ.

Hmmm, it's a Friday afternoon and I have a 2000 word essay for Monday which I haven't even started on. But this Northern European weather and my general state of melancholia has brought me to the mercy of Thom York and his talented band. So guys, I am here to do some active procrastination and dedicate this post not only to Radiohead but to all my friends with whom I have shared great moments whilst listening and dreaming away to their beautiful music.

Listening to Radiohead in itself has become a transcendental experience. When one listens to them it is as if the entire world is structured around that particular song or album, it becomes the soundtrack to the dramatic, independent French art film which is your life. So guys, this blog post is really trying to promote the band and the possibility that they might come to play on our home soil, so please please log on to Facebook and go like this page https://www.facebook.com/RadioheadSaTour
It's really worth a shot and who knows, we might strike it lucky ey! Forget about KONY 2012 and focus your attention on RADIOHEAD 2012.

In order to get you excited, here is a list of my current top 10 favourite Radiohead songs (This was really tough to compile, but it's what I'm more or less into at this moment)

10. Reckoner
9. House of Cards
8. Down is the New Up
7. Karma Police
6. Paranoid Android
5. Give Up the Ghost
4. Weird Fishes/Arpeggi
3. Creep
2. Fake Plastic Trees
1. Just

Now go and practice your Lotus Flower dance moves

and just for interests sake, Yorke's girlfriend and mother of his two children, Rachel Owen is a printmaker and her work is pretty amazing, ch-ch-check it

personal favourite

One last thing...for those lucky enough to be in the Netherlands, Radiohead is coming to Amsterdam on the 14th of October 2012, so make haste and buy your ticket NOW.

Happy listening and remember to go LIKE the page pretty please

Blisters and the sun...Easter in Barcelona

My mind is in a slight tangle after visiting Barcelona. I still haven’t quite made sense of the whole ordeal. It was such an absolute dream come true, that whenever I think back to it,  I give whoever is standing next to me; a beautiful open-mouthed, dead-eye stare as I start to realise what transpired in those 3 golden days under the Spanish sun. Yes sure, I’ve got a million of those terrible ‘point and shoot’ photo’s as proof of  my physical presence in Batheloooona…and yet I still cannot quite comprehend that it was a reality. This might be due to the fact that I’ve got a terrible cold and the meds are making my brain bounce. But a mere three days of extensive sightseeing turns out to be a ridiculous amount of time to soak up the Catalan spirit, but hey…at least I can still find some Mediterranean sea sand in my coat pockets.

 It’s been a week since we commenced our journey and headed south for Easter. A full month has gone by since I’ve left Amsterdam and I felt the need to get out, get some sun and see some catholic Easter processions. Cath and I have been planning this trip since our return from Paris, and yet we petered around for long enough to get the last really expensive flight to Barcelona (it was either that or a 26 hour long bus trip, hahahaha….sure) but thanks to our lovely parents (THANK YOU MOM AND DAD) we were able to close our eyes and pay the price for a quick ticket to the one city which I most wanted to visit in Europe. I don’t know why I have such a romanticised idea about Barcelona, but I guess it has something to do with the artistic vision of Woody Allen, Penelope Cruz swearing in Spanish and Javier (OH! Javier…) Bardem’s charm must have played some role in the formation of my idealistic view of life in the Catalan capital city.  

Just pause and appreciate

So finally we began our great adventure making use of every means of transport possible to reach the golden city of the sangria. After extensive travel by foot, tram, bus, train and plane; we reached Barcelona bleary-eyed, beat and primarily disorientated but we were able to crack smiles despite our heavy headedness.

With our vitality restored we did everything we could possibly squeeze into three days of extensive sightseeing. We gaped at Gaudi, we swirled in pools of sangria, we pored over Picasso’s life work, marvelled at Miro and were just visually stunned by the vast amount of beauty and life that is Barcelona. We stayed at a hostel very close to La Ramblas, so close in fact that it is called ‘Centre Ramblas Youth Hostel’ which provided us with beds, breakfast, awful coffee and one resident creeper of a neighbour who always seemed to lurk in the dark corners of the corridor…so we didn’t spend much time hanging around waiting for a chance encounter with him.

 Moving onto the topic of language…Español. The only real useful Spanish phrase I know is, “Donde esta el baño?” which means, “where is the bathroom?”… and Saskia picked up, “Una cerveza por favour” which means, “one beer please”. Man, with these two phrases and our combined charm, we had the powerful tools to paint the town red and conquer the Barcelona night scene…but we didn’t and often got bewildered Spanish men pointing us into all directions, desperately trying to guide us to the nearest bathroom or beer stand. We also tried incorporating ‘Nacho Libre’ in our vocabulary as means of scoring free snacks through our understanding that its direct translation would be, “Free Nachos!” but alas, I guess this video would sum up my knowledge of the Spanish language… http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j25tkxg5Vws . In the end it was our clever use of hand gestures that got us much further than any utterance of broken Spanish phrases ever could. 

So on Saturday night, we did what any good tourists would do and we joined our hostels local pub crawl. Seedy bars, body shots and bad music is what we expected and what we got. I once again closed my eyes, paid the price and in the end had a surprisingly entertaining night. The first few bars were good, but the club (yes, CLUB) turned out to be the local guido hang out. Man HOTEL MOTEL HOLIDAY INN…In the end we gave up and joined in the fun but left as soon as 40 year old orange Spaniards started winking and pouting at us. These guys were certainly not the mystery skateboarders we were hoping to meet.

Guido paaaardaaaay

Next day we found the sand, the sea and the sun on our winter skin. Another fun fact about Barcelona…the culture of rollerblading and skateboarding, it’s huge and it made for a myriad of beaming men and women zooming about the sidewalks. Oh, I’ve lost track of the countless times I nearly bumped into old ladies as I extended my gaze to those gorgeous Spaniards elegantly weaving their way up and down the boardwalk. Proper skateboarders, something I really miss seeing in Amsterdam, I guess the Spaniards just have an inherent culture of cool.

Walking along, desperately in search of a gelato stand, we stumbled upon a live band. Sitting down to listen, I fell in love with the city proper, having the sun on my shoulder, music in my ears and Spanish rhythm to sway to. Pure gold on a Sunday afternoon in which boredom and ‘dem blues’ seemed so far removed from our situation. 

 As the sun set, we had finally found our gelato shop. As our last proper sight to see in the city, we headed to find the enchanting fountain of colours at the Plaça d'Espanya. The Font Màgica de Montjuïc was built in 1929 as a feature of the Barcelona World Fair and Universal Exposition that showcases an amazing display of water, light and music which proves to be a surreal foreground to the backdrop of the city. If ever you get the chance to visit Barcelona, make sure you go to see the lights. Here is a link, so please go check it out (by this time my digital camera breathed its last breath and I was unable to capture the display, but this guy did a pretty decent job) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sgzGa3EbPW0

So having spent a decent amount of money on food, sights, transport and accommodation, we decided to spend our last night in style; as only the hardcore student travellers would do, on the Barcelona airport. To tell the truth, we couldn’t find another hostel to accommodate us for our last night and our flight left pretty early on Monday morning, so we thought hey! Why not? It’s not as if any of us are used to resting our pretty lil heads on the crisp clean pillowcases of any 7 star hotel. So we did what we always do… we closed our eyes and gunned it. Guys, honestly, an empty, dimly lit airport lounge is such a beautifully surreal space. We made friends with the cashier at the only 24 hour snack bar (we conveniently set up camp in close range), he came from Ghana so we had a mutual understanding, the Africans meandering around Europe. Isn’t strange how quickly one is able to strike up a conversation or form an instant camaraderie when you meet any one who comes from a vaguely similar background when you’re stuck so far away from home? Suddenly Ghana seems to border South Africa and you share neighbours.  Before I get terribly patriotic and carried away…this is what transpired. Cath and Ingrid curled up on what seemed to be a pretty decent excuse for a bed, made from various items of clothing and a baby changing station which conveniently folds out of Ingrid’s wheely bag (I know right?) Saskia and I didn’t feel any sweet slumber approaching, so we opted for the most fun airport slumber party activity and we did yoga on our scarves for the next few hours. We were only ever so often rudely interrupted with the glares of passersby. But it all turned out pretty well. After that we treated ourselves to some coffee and chocolate croissants and discussed our lives and personal philosophies in depth, strange how the late night air encourages these heart-to-heart conversations. We ended the night with this song, ‘blasting’ from Saskia’s Sony Eriksonn http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oZdiXvDU4P0 .This song stuck on repeat as my weary eyes gazed out as the sun started rising over the Barcelona runways

Arriving back home on a rainy Monday morning, this great journey ended with a couple of blisters, our tired eyes, haggard souls…one last sigh and this song http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W7Lmi_uemSc

This is what we saw and what we did, enjoy

boy buoy! haha!

oh Pablo!

sanctu sanctu sanctu

view of the city from Tibidabo

secretsocietywhat?

this is where we stayed

Classy

worst foosball table in the world

sleazy bathroom photographs, haha

feel the beats bang...

...and they did

best wallet