A blog entry whilst writing on the airplane…another airplane.
I spent a whole week at home in Amsterdam. It was lovely. The weather was perfect, so perfect we are beginning to wonder if the end of the world is coming and the forces that be are simply placating us with sun before they turn the switch off. I actually sunned, and felt it afterwards. My friend Meghan from Geneva/Canada came to visit for the weekend, staying until today. She was still there when I left this morning. We spent much of the weekend enjoying the gorgeous weather, sitting in the Westerpark, drinking, staging dinner parties and then leftover dinner parties, and catching up.
The reason she came, well other than to see me of course, was for Konningnedag, or in English, Queen’s Day. Queen’s Day is Queen Juliana, grandmother of the current Queen, Beatrix’ birthday. It is a celebration that began after the war and has turned into a country-wide flea market meets all-day and night party, one tough to describe. It was plainly insane. It lacked sense, this party, but it was fun. Super fun. Much of the rest of the post will concern itself with describing my Queens Day, the first ever in the Netherlands and certainly not the last. This was so much fun; just a brilliant, energetic, smiling time. I wish every Monday was like this.
For Konningennach, or Queen’s Night, a friend of mine baseball and others joined us for pre-drinking at my place before setting off into town. We just walked, passing many DJ and drinking tents along the grachts (canals) before settling for a beer in Leidseplein. The canals were packed with people; it was almost impossible to move in certain places, and everyone was dancing, drinking, partying, enjoying each other’s company. This continued until about 5AM, as we kept pounding back the liquids to stay hydrated before stumbling home. I left before Meghan and the guys, and I passed out just before 5. The next morning we awoke at the crack of noon and had lunch, put on our shiniest orange shirts and went into town to enjoy Queen’s Day.
It was gorgeous; sunny, bright, lovely, and there was a shitload of people everywhere. Apparently the population of Amsterdam doubles on Queen’s Day, and it surely was noticeable. We passed by a party in the Jordaan, well, several parties and made it all the way to Rembrandtplein, one of the big squares. There were thousands upon thousands of people dancing to DJs and hip-hip from a big stage in the square, drinking and just going crazy. I couldn’t move. It was insane. After some time there, I walked back home (about 90 minutes of Queen’s Day) and met up with Renee to explore the Jordaan. This is where it got even crazier.
I found a toy sword on the ground, one from the Thundercats cartoon show. I went home and put batteries in it, and it worked. Lit up and made a sound. We grabbed some beers, found a tent playing trance and started dancing with the sword. The sword was quite popular. I made quite a few friends flashing it around. One women even picked up a pair of panties from the ground and use the sword as the base for a slingshot, flinging the panties in the air of the crowd. This proceeded to ignite a gigantic clothing fight in the stage, as jeans, pants, shirts and jackets were flung between hundreds of people like glowsticks, followed by flowers and socks. It was, once again, beyond comprehension. I’m in the middle of a street I bike down everyday, listening to a world-class DJ and dancing with a few thousand drunken Dutch. And everyone is wearing orange. Meghan took pictures.
It didn’t end there. After the clothing fight, an old woman who owned a flat next to the crowd opened up the window and started throwing rolls of toilet paper at everyone. More drinking ensued, and by 5PM, the day became a blur. Yet, as the dancing continued, a man came up to me and claimed I found his sword, bought for his kid, and asked for it back. He made a convincing enough case, and not caring too much, I gave him back the sword and he bought Renee and I a bunch of beers.
I know this doesn’t make much sense; I wish it did, but Queen’s Day doesn’t make a lot of sense. A gigantic flea market; everyone was selling everything, absolutely everything, combined with a city-wide street party. Hundreds of tents sprung across the city with bands, DJs, comedy, beer Olympics. And all this in orange.
I went home for a minute as Renee had a dinner date, and met up with another friend Macauley and Meghan again and had crappy Mexican food in the Leidseplein. Then 11:30PM reared its hungover head and we biked home exhausted, confused, thrilled and smiling.
Now I am sitting in a plane going back to Canada. I ended up sitting next to a woman and a young kid sharing one seat, and this kid was perspicacious, so thankfully I was moved to the back of the plane, next to an elderly couple. I am Toronto for a week; lots to do, some shitty things and some nice things, and lots to think about. Things get tough once I get back to the Netherlands, in many ways. I have a lot to think about, which is good, because if I didn’t, I would be bored.