Winter?

Took a walk this afternoon, partly to get away from the depressing studying of war crimes and genocide, partly to get away from the arguing at home, and partly to bury Mr Mousovic.

It's always nice to go into the forest, and walk under the shade of barren trees. It was late afternoon, so the sun was setting, and the sky was beautiful. It's not been like that for days, since the stormy weather for the most of last week. The only thing was there were lots of people in the forest... lots of young children running around and lots of people walking around. And I don't like it when there are lots of people.

So I avoided the crowd and walked my own path. I came across something that made me stop. Normally, crocusses and wild flowers bud in early Spring, meaning around March, or even April. But they're beginning to bud, now already, in mid January!


So, the world is getting warmer, and the weather stranger and more extreme. Something else I noticed too... the streets were really really dirty! Usually the ground is speckless, and you're lucky to spot a piece of rubbish (dog poo doesn't count). But today there were beer cans and paper, plastic bags and household garbage everywhere... reminded me of the streets of Jakarta.


I guess it may be because of the stormy weather, or the fact that it was new years and so (drunken) kids were out and about. Sort of gave me the urge to just get a big bag and start cleaning up the streets...

but, I have an exam to study for.

(....the dirty streets were not helped by the attack of seagulls)

Spur

After work today I was tired, and it was pouring with rain. Quickly went to the market to get some veggies, since the fridge is pretty much empty. Walked between the stalls, and my shoes and trousers became completely drenched, and I felt pretty miserable on the bus ride home.



But just as I got out of the bus the sky had miraculously cleared. Above and around me was an amazing sunset, a canvas of purple and pink, one I've not seen for a while. Suddenly I got the urge to go to the beach, so after putting everything down I grabbed the bike and sped toward the sea, hoping to catch that last glimpse of the sun before it sunk into the sea.

It was a struggle against the wind, though there was no more rain. The wind was strong, and resisted, but I was stronger, and zigzagged forward, and onwards. But by the time I got to the beach, it had pretty much become dark... just that last trace of the dying day were left in little puntures in thick, thick clouds that were blowing in from the sea, and looming.

I stood on the empty beach, disappointed, and felt the gusts of wind laugh at me.

But still... I triumphed over it and cycled home.

Wereldhavendagen 2006

Braving gale force winds I stood on the Erasmusbrug and watched the evening spectacle of this year's Wereldhavendagen (World Harbour Days). Each year, the Port of Rotterdam opens its ports and gates to visitors and numerous festivities and excursions so that ordinary people can explore the Europe's largest and busiest seaport.





The port and the city are alsmost inseperable, and have a history closely tied to the Netherlands' economy and life. The majority of goods that arrive and leave the country go through the harbour, which is connected with an extensive network of railways and roads. Rotterdam itself is a modern city, and the only one in the Netherlands with a skyline of skyscrappers to speak of. 'Thanks' to the Germans who bombarded the city and its strategic harbour till Netherlands capitulated during the Second World War, Rotterdam has had to rebuild itself almost from scratch within the last couple of decades. No wonder this harbour-city with its international connections as well as connections with the rest of the country, is the pride and joy of the city. And the events this weekend celebrate that sense of nostalgia to the past when cruise ships moored on the docks, that sense of achievement you can clearly see when you see the tall skyscrappers compete with giant girafe-like cranes, and the sense of hope as the harbour and the city plans to develop into the future.




Laser lights, skylights, neolights boomboxes and ear-deafening music ushered in the evening's programme at 9pm sharp. The crowd was scarce at the time, perhaps deterred by the overcast skies, and, as soon as I stood still for a couple of minutes to take in the music and light show, the strong, strong winds. At times I couldn't stand still, since the sea winds were so fierce and unrelenting on the bridge. I felt a headache start to creep. I felt myself dread pessimistically the likelihood of me having to wake up in the morning with a sore throat and the beginnings of a cold. Forturnately as I left the house earlier on I decided against wearing just a T-shirt and wore a light-blue turtle neck sweater instead. Couples hid behind each other, embraced one another to keep warm. I embraced the wind that seeped through and triggered goosebumps and slight trembles.

There were different shows, each with very different characteristics. A wonderful 'dance of the cranes', as the gigantic steel storks turned their cumbersome bodies and seemed to gyrate on the spot to the beat of the music. With their massive 'hands' they dug into the river Maas and hoisted tonnes of water into the air. When releashed the water shed like a beautiful shower, sending vapour and moisture plummeting to the river below like a trickling waterfall. Colourful lights shone on the water made it all the more dazzling.

Then there was a choir singing so traditional Dutch hits, most about the life and drudgery of a sailor, about the goodbyes, the longings and the loneliness at sea. To contrast, a live DJ mixed and blasted disco and techno songs into the nightsky, this time with spiralling lights and flashing lasers as the dancers in the air and on the surface of the sea. I stood and could not keep my body from wriggling a bit to the beat of some remixes of songs I liked.

Rounding off the evening, the longest display of fireworks I've ever seen, projecting multi-coloured flashes and deafening explosions into the sky from a barge in the middle of the
river. I was bedazzled by the ever-changing kaleidoscope of shooting stars, giant balls of sparkling fairy dust, eliptical wheels of purple and white, rockets and missiles that soared up into the heavens and exploded with a loud sounding bang, leaving a trail of dense fog and smell of gunpowder. Soon I forget all about the cold, all about the pain of having to stand almost two hours.

Because it was worth it.





Go to my travelog for more pictures!

• Wereldhavendagen Fireworks VI
• Wereldhavendagen Fireworks V
• Wereldhavendagen Fireworks IV
• Wereldhavendagen Fireworks III
• Wereldhavendagen Fireworks I
• Wereldhavendagen II
• Wereldhavendagen I
• Rotterdam Skyline II
• Rotterdam Skyline
• Erasmusbrug

Stroll (uncut)

The temperature dropped today, but the sunset was different and beautiful as usual. With a sweater I usually reserve for after Autumn, I cycled to the beach and took a long walk.

The tide was low, the seagulls too. So low and so close you could almost catch them. But who would want to deny them of their freedom?I walked and walked, not as far and long as that day in the rain, but still when I reached the end of the beach and the harbour of Scheveningen, the sky had fallen dark.

The minutes, moments before it was brightly coloured, ever-changing, in sparkling hues of pink, and orange, and violet, and red. As if the sky couldn't decide what coat to put on, so tried every colour on for just a few fleeting moments.

A couple of surfer boys dived and played where the sea touched the beach. In the dim light, their bodies were so defined and structured. I shivered as I stole a silent glance of them in their beach shorts and tight swim suits.


I stood on the harbour dock, jutting out to sea, and felt brave, encouraged as the waves crashed beneath my feet. It was like I was invicible and unafraid of the violent waves. But only because I stood on firm ground. The gray water would have easily silenced me and drowned my existence the second I dropped in. Harbours lights, green and red, flashed on and off. The lighthouse stroked the land and sea with its intense ray, guiding ships and people to shore.


Cycling back, the wind picked up and it was a little struggle. On top of the dune I looked ahead, and there in the sky something smiled at me. A friendly, familar face.It's a full moon tonight.

It's a full moon tonight.