Texel

Yesterday the weather was delightful, my friend Elise was in town from England and I woke up early and decided, screw it let's throw a sicky. By 0813 we were on a train and heading to the north of Holland towards a coastal town called Den Helder.

Train travel trips like this always fill me with a combination of excitment and nostalgia: sitting in the carriage watching the tulip fields flying by and finishing off a re-read of that truly most excellent of coming of age novels 'Becoming a Man' by Paul Monette I would have been happy if the train carried around in circles.

Of course it didn't and we pulled into the rather unremarkable port town of Den Helder and started to try and find our way towards the ferry to Texel. A supremely unhelpful woman declared there were no buses to the terminal and we had to walk, so we set off into the jungle of pontoons and lightships that lay on front of us. Of course predictably we were off on the wrong track and after confirming with a local that there a) was a bus and b) it went regularly from the very terminal we had asked the advice at directly to the ingress point of the ferry, we started walking along the dyke that would take us there. I won't pretend I was happy, in fact I was ruminating on ways to get a fatwah declared. Still we passed the interesting sight of a Royal Dutch submarine and mine-sweeper and arrvied the the mire of pathways and 8 lane traffic that made up the ferry terminal.

Both Elise and I were surpirsed at a) the ludicrously cheap day return fare of 3EUR each and b) the size of these ferries: they were enormous. Clearly in the high season there must be a lot of tourists travelling to and from. The crossing was brief and uneventful apart from a shock at the canteen where a selection of unpalatable dishes were served, including fried 'custard cakes'.

A bus waited for us on arrival and transported us to Den Berg, the largest town on the island. After a rather unnecessary trip to the VVV (aka the Tourist Office) we made our way through the quaint village centre and met a delightful man who we hired great bikes from at the princely sum of 6EUR. He asked for ID but in what we found an unrivalled sign of trust of ages past no credit card imprints.

By 1130 we were off on our way to the north west coast of the island, cycling down the amply sized fietspads. My first impression was that I was still on the mainland: the island is large (24km) and completely rural dedicated to the hundreds of lambs and sheep and miscellanous animals (including goats, cocks, llamas, canadian geeze, black swans ...). The smell of sileage is omnipresent. In no time at all we arrived at the bird reserve of de Slufter and parked our bikes to walk out along the sand spit and into the bird reserve, half expecting Bill Oddie to jump out at any moment. It is a beautifully tranqil area, whose silence is occasionally broken by the sounds of falcolns shrieking as they strike their prey or the cacophony of gulls in some ornate mating ritual. Most of the area we were in was a protecting sanctuary inaccessible until August as the birds were nesting.

We returned to our bikes and cycled to the northern most tip of the island where there was a rocky outcrop and a lighthouse with some lean toos of houses, unfortunately there were stern KEEP OUT signs everywhere so we couldnt' approach. We stopped on the top of the strand which resembled, other than the sea colour, the kind of extended Bahaman majesty one often sees in toursit brochures.

By this time the stomachs were growelling and we headed off the short distance to the local town of de Cocksdorp, which was literally a two lane affair with a couple of shops and restaurants. The local fair was pretty simple with restaurants offering pizza or local dishes. We settled on the Topina as there was a substantial outside seating area and more guests there than anywhere else. Refreshed with a strange maaltijdsalade of 'lambham' and a selection of local cheeses we got back on the bikes - which were delightful for hire bikes: good breaks and gears and solid construction - down the curiously named 'Lancasterdijk' to cross back to the otherside of the island and explore the most popular town known as de Koog.

We had a tough cycle into the wind and 'at our own risk' along the steep seaside of the dijk, but we made it in the end, to the rather pedestrian and cookie cutter town of de Koog. After making the executive decision to not even stop we continued out along the bike path to a quietly shaded wooded area: as the weather had become really quite warm and sunny by this stage it was a welcome break. Crunching along the path strewn with needles and pine cones we followed the path into a heather moor and then to what was referred to as 'Westerslag' or a promentary along the beach.

Wondering what on earth this meant (slag means 'whipped' from slagroom 'whipped cream) we arrived through a cutting in the dunes to this incredible stretch of beach going on as far as the eye could see in either direction. It was such a great moment after the day of cycling to arrive here and share an ice lolly surrounded by such natural splendour and sun just thinking about begining to set.

We slowly cycled back through the forest to the main town of den Burg, ditching our bikes there and enjoying the delightfully joined up public transport of bus to ferry to bus to train all arriving within 5m of each other and arriving back in Amsterdam at 2000, almost exactly 12 hours after we started.

I'm looking forwatd to exploring more of the Netherlands, every time I leave Amsterdam some new surprise seems to await me ...

Points of View

So last night, despite having a million and one things to do before heading to London today, I went to the ballet with a friend of mine and was very glad I did. The opera house in Amsterdam is often referred to as the 'Stopera' due to the demonstrations that occurred during the building of the modern structure that sits looking out over the picturesque centre of Amsterdam. It's a great building, if with a slightly off target decoration scheme involving some Miami Vice-esque lighting around some of the bars, the seating is comfortable with air conditioning vents under each one, and bewildering seating numbering that devides the hall in half by ''Even" and "Oneven" which results in a lot of clambering over your fellow patrons.

The main reason I went for the evening of modern dance, entitled Points of View was for a piece choreographed by Hans van Manen who is arguably one of the Netherlands' most progressive and talented artists.

There were four short pieces in all, each about 15-20m long and as we found out after sitting there was to be an interval after each one!

The first piece entitled 'Duets' was choreographed by Merce Cunningham to the credo 'Dance is motion, no emotion'. It was a very post-modern piece supported by a ranging tempo of African percussion beats. The dancers appeared on stage in highly colourful pairs, using each others bodies to lean and support each other, in a combination of modern and classic movements. There was an excellent moment towards the end where the couple were using each others' bodies as pivots to lower and raise each other from the floor. Very original, and as the choreographer had intended, very much about the motion.

After an unwelcome break, the highlight of the evening began for me with Kammerballet. The ballet was set to a piece of live piano music, reminiscent in style of Chopin or Satie. The piece began as each dancer, dressed in muted browns or yellows arrived on stage each carrying a stool and cruising each other in what can only be called a sultry manner. In a stroke of costuming genius the male dancers were wearing almost cut off shorts, while the females donned what is traditionally the male full body suit. The dancers took turns to to pair up, with one excellent scene where the female stood behind her seated partner and repeatedly threw him to the floor, they then exchanged places to complete the mutual cycle of abuse.

The finale was almost nihilistic in style with each of the dancers fading away leaving one black clad female dancer to slowly disintegrate. It was an immensely powerful piece, using stark contrast and no stage decoration, combined with the technical genius of van Manen and the undisputed talent of the dancers.

After a further, now welcome, break we were treating to the third piece entitled Since which has its world premiere two weeks ago. The piece is choreographed by Annabelle Lopez Ochoa and set on an almost empty stage, with nothing but white streamers hanging from the ceiling and the dancers elegantly dressed in either black or white Filippa K outfits. The music was ethereal and electronic, and lighting was used to powerful effect.

My initial reaction was that some of the dancing was sloppy with the first duet the female dancer was almost thrown or dragged around. When the second duet commenced with a new couple the movement was more coherent and the corps de ballet supporting them very effectively. The ending was very poignant with the man trying to drag the female away for her surrounding dancers, but her falling lifeless as he does. There was also a very strong moment when the male dancer was illuminated strongly from stage left and struggled with his hands and body to move forward even though he was blinded.

The final piece was called Hallelujah Junction and was choreographed by Ted Brandsen, the artistic director of Het Nationale Ballet (Dutch National Ballet). The piece began with two male dancers appearing on stage and in what could have been a stand off or a come on intertwined with each other; more and more male dancers appeared and started their strange courting movement ; there was an element of the gangland about it as the boys, all dressed in black unfurled around one another.

At this point I remarked to myself it was quite dramatic to see Dutch ballet dancers: they are enormous! Very different to the ones I'm used to seeing at Sadlers Wells or the ROH. There was one movement with them windmilling that I thought they might lift off!

The piece was for a corps de ballet and gained momentum as the stage filled eventually with some female dancers. Overall the effect was a little chaotic at times, but the talent of several of the dancers shone through and I look forward to seeing them in the future (in or out of the ballet!).

You can see a mini video here.

Restaurant ZaZa

Continuing with my restaurant review vibe I thought I'd write about another excellent meal I had in de Pijp last night with my friend Stephan. At his suggestion we met in the Heinekenplein and made our way around the corner to Daniel Stalpertstraat where this cosy and well designed restaurant was positioned.

On entering I was immediately impressed by the hard wood finish, tasteful lighting and generally relaxed atmosphere about the place. We were seated by a very friendly american waitress at a cute table at the back which seats the guests next to each other. It's perfect if you want a little privacy (I am told the restaurant can get noisy during its busier times) although I'd recommend swapping places half way through the meal if you want to avoid neck pain! The place also has a strong 'Ab Fab' influence with some amusing artwork and books placed strategically around the establishment.

My company was engaging and we talked about many hilarious and amusing things throughout the course of the night, including how in Bulgaria pre the internet the local homosexuals used to call telephone information exchanges with pre-recorded annoucements on train times etc. in order to meet one another: because the infrastructure was so elderly it was possible to use the connection as a conference style pick up line! My point was that the food was sufficiently excellent to make a good counterpoint to the conversation.

The menu immediately aroused my curiosity, the chef was clearly capable with a diverse range of menu items displaying his skill. For starters I ended up choosing a garlic soup with melted Gruyere and grilled almonds, while Stephan chose the rabbit rilette served with melba crostini. Both courses were very well prepared, and excellently presented. My soup was the perfect temperature and tasted delightful with the deeply flavoured creamy garlic liquid accentuated with the melted moments of Gruyere on the spoon. The rilette, similar to a pate, was very tasty and originally prepared.

For the main course I opted for a second vegetarian dish of sage ravioli of wild mushroom and spinach with pumpkin carrot sauce and a crispy cheese wafter. Stephan went for the duck with cous cous, eggplant and yogurt and sweet and sour apricot sauce. My dish was a triumph and although large with many differing flavours they mixed well together, I ate the dish punctuating each mouthful with a small wafer of the melted cheese which was served alongside. I could see how rich the duck was the moment it was put on the table and Stephan luxuriated in the dish, taking him easily 20m to (almost!) finish. The flavours were excellent with the sweetness of the apricot in the cous cous helping to release the gamey undertones of the rare duck breast.

This is another must visit, the price was very reasonable (70 Euros for the two of us, although admittedly without a bottle of wine), the service outstanding for Holland, and the chef very talented: thanks to you Vincent.

You can reach ZaZa's on +31 (0) 20 673 6333.

Restaurant Rosario

So last night I took three friends of mine who were over from the UK to an Italian restaurant on the Peperstraat. It's not the first time I've been and the eponymous proprietor is also a friend of mine, it was however the best meal I've had there to date.

The restaurant itself is located across the water from the Nieuwmarkt on a slightly out of the way street called the Peperstraat. It's a simple, intimate dining space with tables just far enough away, plenty of large windows, interesting art and the kitchen installed as the centre-piece in plain view of all the customers.

The menu is changed daily, with the current seasonal specialities being exceptional. After a very pleasant bottle of Valdobbiadene prosecco we were presented with the menu which featured trucs such as serrano ham wrapped scallops with sage and lemon risotto made with bream and saffron for primi and starters.

After a suitably extended time to allow us to decide which of the tantalising morsels to select (read argue who was having), our order was taken and the two chefs visibly got down to work.

The starters were prepared and cooked perfectly: my scallops were large, succulently cooked and subtly enhanced by the complimentary flavours of the Serrano ham and sage. My friends ordered quail on a bed of mushrooms with a red wine jus, which was cooked just enough to retain its delicate flavour without allowing the bird to dry out.

The main courses were equally superb, my rare cooked lamb rolls coated in sesame with green pesto were heaven, and although they came with no accompaniment, none was needed. The tower of beef tornedoes had been artfully skewered with a baked stick of spaghetti and layered though a potato rosti and pesto sauce.

Silence reigned for the next 10m while every plate was scraped and its contents devoured.

Desert by this time was looking like a tall order, so we ordered some espressos and grappa (though no Sassacai or Ornellai unfortunately) and headed off to finish our night in the seedy underbelly of the red light district: hey I had to show the tourists something!

Price for the evening was fair for the quality of the food, with the bill coming to 200 Euros for the four of us including a fabulous bottle of merlot from Roasarios home village.

You can reach Rosario at: +31 (0)20 6270280

RIAA Decision Matrix

This was on one of my favourite website BoingBoing today and is the supposed decision tree used by the DRM evil overlords the RIAA when suing people [read generally unrelated minors, parents etc.]

Click on the image to see the full glory of its logic tree!

Thought for the day

... in a conversation with a friend of mine:

friend - well life always has it's ups and downs, I'm fine
me - yeah but when it's like a bucking bronto that's kind of hard work

Wikimedia Picture of the Year

What's all this fuss about Rapido?!

So the buzz has been growing about this club in Amsterdam called Rapido. A few weeks ago tickets were released to it and some chap I knew was genuinely distraught about not getting a ticket, I thought something serious was up: his ashen face, slightly choked words as he broke the news to me!!

As it turned out I was in some other party called Fresh a few weeks back that was promoted by the same guys and ran into my old pal Jack Chang who was over from London and spinning there, he was also booked for the Rapido party. I was set on going and when I got into work next week I made a few MSN chats and eventually managed to secure an invite thanks to my friend Oliver M.

I turned up at the party around 1700 on Sunday which was club Paradiso, a venue used by stars such as Skin, Robbie Williams et al when they have concerts in Amsterdam. Both queues were gigantic and as my mates had already gone in ahead for the sound check I was left facing a hairy wait; fortunately rescue was sent and my entrance expedited.

First impressions were as I walked through the hall and into the dance hall were wow, this place is pumping! Another London DJ Fabio White was on the decks when I got there and there were some good choons coming out of an impressive speaker system. The bar man served me my JD & Coke with fantastic alacrity (and continued to do so the rest of the night I may add) and before long I was on the stage meeting Jack and his boyfriend Paul and then subsequently the people behind the event. The promoter Edgar was looking quite casual and amusingly had a pair of ear phones dangling from his T shirt, I had a few words with him before being introduced to Doug Gray and his Bulgarian b/f Stef who were also involved in a musical capacity: they were great fun and I continued to party with them all night.

After an hour or so the place filled up to the rafters, the lights got lower, the dancing got sexier and I could see row after row of virtually naked boys gyrating on this huge scaffolding behind a black awning on the stage. Clearly the party was starting up ... there was a moment of confusion where the awning kept falling off the edges slightly, before collapsing completely to the ground: in true 'show must go on style' no one seemed to mind, quite possibly the opposite actually. An extremely cute VJ then appeared and proceeding to co-ordinate my, I mean the attention of six lasers of varying configurations upon the dancefloor bathing the whole party in this awesome unearthly light, which by this stage was just reaching fever pitch.

Then I toured the rest of the club with my friends and took up residence upstairs, where there was a little tinsy bit more room to actually move. Doug played a great set consisting of some cool grooves with a deep compelling beat behind each of them, (thank god for my snake hips). Jack then took over and started to lay down his harder more industrial sound which had the whole floor letting loose. 2200 hours rolled on by, and with enough vodka, redbull and the inimitable influence of the Gay Walt Disney party american promoters Ray and James saw me dancing away shirtless and grinning over what was a truly great evening.

















Now I know what all the fuss is about ;-)

Puck me tender ...

I think one of the highlights of my trip to Davos was the night out to the ice hockey playoffs. I hadn't been to an ice hockey match since I lived in the states (my little brother was in the bantam league) and this was a serious game we were going to: violence was expected, anticipated and in the air. We (that being Daniel, Rui, Nik and myself) were thoroughly searched upon entry, so thoroughly that Nik's box of matches was opened one way and then the other! Anyway we arrived early and made our way over to the home side standing area which was already thronging, after beering up (conveniently served in trays of 8 - see below) there was a sudden stroke of genius to head over to the less heavily populated neutral supporting area. We got seats :-) the night progressed and Davos totally dominated. Beer flowed continuously, Zurich's supporters lit sparklers ... and Davos erected the most enormous flag you've ever seen:


The game moved very quickly and whiplash was a distinct possibility if following the game was your goal. Players literally appeared out of no-where! We were unfortunate in that we were the other end of the rink when the first and second goals were scored within a few minutes of each other (I confess I was beering up during the second) and irritatingly the third one was also scored at the other end. still there was a nice camera man on hand to give us the pixilated version.

The match continued and we all got fairly thrashed, the pictures are vague and messy but worthwhile so I'll include them to give you an idea. I even came back with 8 beer and a bratwurst at one point, my waitressing skills have never been so capable!















... that was the 'extended' last interval's drinking















and look what it did to us!!!

Davos or Bust

Travelling to a destination has seldom been more amusing than the trip I took to Davos. I met my friend Nik at Zurich station where we confidently boarded the train that would (after two changes) deposit us bags and all in the exclusive alpine resort of Davos.

No sooner had we arrived at Zurich HB and ensconced ourselves in the dining car when the train pulled back through the airport. Realising the extremely detailed instructions given to us by CBB / Swiss rail monopoly were flagrantly incorrect we scarpered off the platform and had to take the round trip again, arriving just in time to miss our connecton to Landquart. Tempers simmering we found another dining cart not only with spare seats for us, but an attractive swiss conscript in uniform.

By fluke both of us had bought hip-flasks filled with our favourate tipples and quickly got stuck in to irish coffee ville. Landquart was a blur as we drunkenly dashed across platforms and got into the rather more crowded, but equally attractively populated compartment.

A carriage awaited us at the station courtesy of our diggs: the sophisticated yet still pleasantly alpine Hotel Waldhuus. Our arrival, or rather Nik's, was greeted ecstatically by the staff remembering him from last time and the swift appearance of two very welcome Lynchburg Lemonades.

The restful night's sleep that one would expect from such luxurious quarters was not had by all. I awoke the next morning to find Nik asleep and mumbling in the bed beside me looking stressed and rigid like he'd licked a light switch. It would seem that his room had some strange static / electrical disurbances that had plagued him all night ...

We're not sure what it was, but needless to say, we requested an exorcism (Catholic) via room service the next morning before breakfast where we then met fantastic ski instructor mate Daniel who had kindly taken his day off to spend with us and hang out.

More later, particularly on the fantastic experience of attending the ice hockey play-offs between Davos and Zurich.

Oh, did I mention we were there to ski?!

Quote for the Day

Roger Thornhill: Why are you so good to me?
Eve Kendall: It's going to be a long night.
Roger Thornhill: True.
Eve Kendall: And I don't particularly like the book I've started.
Roger Thornhill: Ah.
Eve Kendall: You know what I mean?
Roger Thornhill: Ah, let me think. Yes, I know exactly what you mean.

Absinthe

Man it's been a few years since a certain legal loophole allowed Absinthe to grace the streets of Europe again. I remember when it hit London back in 98 there was a special training staff were supposed to go on due to the liquors strength and its alledged propensity to make you hallucinate (I say alledged, although I distinctly remember someone climbing onto the scafolding above the DJ booth in The End nighclub one night swearing he saw a dove up there).

Most of the absinthe that is sold commercially is actually liquorice green coloured generic rubbish, only a few of the better brands (and mostly from CZ, CH or FR) actually have anything resembling the distillate of Artemisia absinthium. I was gratified to stumble across an article on Wired about the lifelong endeavours of a man named Ted Breaux to chemically recreate the original absinthe that was produced the late 18th century in Switzerland and southern France. He's so far managed to produce several highly rated absinthes Jade PF 1901, which is his analogue of the original Pernod Fils brand, and Jade Verte Suisse 65 which was only recreated thanks to an extremely rare bottle of C. F. Berger absinthe (first created in Switzerland in 1830) resurfacing.

More interestingly he's just released a liquor created from a very exclusive tobacco (alledgedly the world's rarest, and grown only in Louisianna) known as Perique. You can buy most of his stuff online, I have an order rushing to me now ....

Updated Wikipedia

Hey: some fascinating trivia I just updated my first wikipedia page ever on Kenneth Tynan to include the following information about his second wedding ....

"After Tynan's divorce he persuaded Kathleen Halton, daughter of famed wartime CBC correspondent Matthew Halton and sister of contemporary CBC journalist David Halton, to leave her husband and live with him.^[1] By 1967 he married Halton, with Marlene Dietrich and a tramp as their witnesses. During the ceremony, Dietrich backed towards some doors to close them, and the judge, in the middle of his oration, said: "And do you, Kenneth, take Kathleen for your lawful wedded I would not stand with your arse to an open door in this office lady wife to have and to hold?"

Hey they do call me Wilkipedia :-)

Shooting People

Last summer I was chilling on Sa Trinxa beach, cava sangria in hand and having a great time chatting with my mates having just watched the latest running jump by a naked man who is trying to raise funds for a new titanic when two women abruptly sat down on our (unusued) sunloungers and proceeded to make themselves comfortable. There was a certain amount of indignancy and I pointed out that the loungers had to a) be paid for and b) had been by us.

The cheeky response came back, well you're not using them right now are you?!

It was the beginging of a beautiful friendship: less than 10m later we were all huddled together chatting, it turned out one of them was a wandering reporter / producer and the other her accompanying photographer.

Anyway, Paula, who is in London now working for the BBC financed a video in the Robbie Williams 'Shooting People' competition and won, you have to check it out, it's so slick.

Recovery Sounds - New Track

I spent Saturday afternoon with DJ Recovery Sounds from ADHD Sessions. He kindly invited me over to his apartment and we hung out with a few beers in his studio chatting and pulling together a new track. I also got to hear him arrange his next few gigs and find out what a smooth talking dude he really was.

This was a very cool experience for me (it's been a while since it's been my first time doing anything!) and very interesting to see how far the computer has brought making music: the software is just incredible, with just a small synth (maybe an octave long) and plenty of mouse action chords can be created, distortion added, filters places over filters. Anyway, check out the track it's fairly minimal but gets chunky later. Watch this space is all I can say.

The track is called License Key and you can listen to it here.

Found this on Digg today. You have to laugh.

Epiphinal Moments

Just found this in my phone - the epiphinal moment when I realised after acting sommelier for my family at Christmas that red wine should never ever be served straight from the bottle.

Post skiing

By flying from Amsterdam to Barcelona and then catching a coach I think I took a more circuitous route than strictly necessary to Andorra this weekend but it was worth every mile. I have to say the experience of traveling with teen-aged students on a bus made me a) appreciate how annoying I was and b) feel old and vaguely responsible. Oh if only they could capture that feeling and sell it, school masters everywhere would breathe a sigh of relief. (Note to self what else makes me feel like that?!)

Jane a great friend who I met when I was just a wee slip of an 18 year old lad accompanied me. She spent last season teaching English in BCN and then snow boarding every weekend in the mountains of Andorra. Oh the life!

I was only in Andorra, well Pal actually, for two days but the weather was almost perfect: it dumped thick wet snow the whole of Saturday while I was getting back into the groove. Viz was pretty poor but we knew the next day would be worth the pain upfront.

I had an amusing lesson with an Argentian guy who didn't really show me very much but laughed a lot, had cute italian teeth (don't ask!) and showed me round some of the mountain. I got a few blues under my belt and was cruising by the end of the day.

Sunday morning in true turnover day style the pistes were empty, and we had almost 15cm of powder - perfect! I did a blue run first thing, stumbled a bit but before I could say Nancy Reagen - I mean no - Jane pushed me onto the lift up to the top of Pic du Cubil. We could barely see 15m in front of us when we got there and the prospect of a difficult red run terrified me. As it happened I shot down enjoying the more challenging faster, thiner pistes, it dumped us onto the blue that was irking me earlier and I just breezed through finishing a la the Olympics in a spray of victory.

On the way back up we noticed there was this beautiful open slope off piste covered in untouched powder. A quick look around and we surreptitiously crept under the fence (bloody hard when you're in skiis - thank God for my limbo skills) and I had my first powder off piste experience. I tumbled, I fell, and then I switched my music off and concentrated on form: boy what a feeling, tight turns on fresh powder, the whole vallye below you and no one else around. Bliss.

I finished the day going back up to the Pic du Cubil and flew down the whole red and blue run listening to KT Tunstall's "Suddenly I See" stopping for no one and takng no prisoners. Man I wished I was staying for another day when I got to the bottom.

Still I'm off to Davos in a few weeks :-)

Thought for the day:

Once you have learned to love and accept yourself you will never waste your time again because you know how valuable it is.

Thought for the day ...

"I never met a man I couldn't drink handsome."