Ans and her two children (Warren, 9 and Ashleigh, 3) took me to Madurodam. Again, I had incredible difficulty pronouncing or even remembering this word when they said it to me. Warren carefully and slowly pronounced it for me, syllable by syllable. Then I saw it written down and remembered it instantly. I guess I'm a visual learner.

Madurodam is a miniature Holland. Many of the famous landmarks of Holland and streets etc are replicated at 1/25 of their actual size. The detail is very careful and exact.

For tea, we went to a very comfortable restaurant that Ans refers to as the 'Pancake House'. I'm sure it has a Dutch name...and equally sure she told me it...but have no idea what it is now. It had dark ceilings and was furnished in warm colours. In the centre of the room was a large, open fire with comfy chairs all around it. I sank into one of them and was instantly attacked by a kind of sleepy daze. It was with the most reluctance that I hoisted myself from the chair to go chase the kids around the playground before heading for home an hour or so later.

written by  Abby Benton on February 14, 2008 from Voorschoten, Netherlands
from the travel blog: UK
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We saw Rembrandt's birthplace, where he went to school and where he began painting. There were almshouses, the city hall, the execution square, churches, something called a 'burcht' (probably spelled completely differently to that), windmills, canals, bicycles, houses, narrow streets....etc. It was an excellent afternoon. Linda knew just about everything and was able to keep me well entertained and interested all afternoon.

I spent the rest of the day talking with Ans and trying to learn a bit of Dutch. I read an ad out of the newspaper and made her laugh a lot. Some sounds my brain refuses to hear and it is even less likely that my tongue can be forced to say them. However, I think I was progressing ever so gradually. It was lovely staying with Ans and Glen. It was very 'gezellig' as the Dutch term it...very comfortable and I was sorry I had to leave when I did.

written by  Abby Benton on February 14, 2008 from Leiden, Netherlands
from the travel blog: UK
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Amsterdam is beautiful. The houses are all so different from each other and there are canals everywhere. Apparently there are over 1300 bridges in Amsterdam alone. You sometimes get a sense of deja vu when you cross one. There are bicycles everywhere you look and they all seem to be coming from the wrong direction because they drive on the right hand side of the road. It's terribly confusing to get to a roundabout and give way to the left - it feels slightly reckless and wrong somehow.

Amsterdam canal houses

The Rijksmuseum was next. It took me about three days to work out how to say that but it's actually quite simple. I can see why I had difficulty when I looked at the way I wrote it in my diary from memory. I've got 'Reichtmuseum'. I wonder what that means. hehe. Anyway, I thoroughly enjoyed this museum. There were the most amazing Rembrandt paintings. My favourite was a self-portrait in which Rembrandt is dressed up as St Paul. The use of light is excellent. It doesn't matter where you look on the painting, your eye is continually drawn to his face - almost involuntarily.

Gateway to the Rijksmuseum

Anyway, will write some more soon. Have recently returned to England so need to do a bit of 'catch-up'.

written by  Abby Benton on February 8, 2008 from Amsterdam, Netherlands
from the travel blog: UK
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The tubes are great. I feel kind of important being able to use them and go places. There are trains every 3 or 4 minutes and all sorts of lines going all over the city. I have bought a travel card each day for £5.90 which means I can use any public transport in zones 1-4 which includes all of central london and quite far out. You put your card into a machine which opens a gate for you and then can get on or off any tube you want until you leave whereupon you enter your card again to get out.

Rachel and I arrived in London on thursday and decided to go and see the Tower of London. We got in at Euston station and had to navigate the tube. Rachel is pretty good, but she's only ever done it a couple of times before and always had someone with her who knew it better. We did pretty well, made a slightly funny mistake by climbing off one train and then getting back on one that took us straight back the way we had come. THat was easily fixed though.

We found the one we thought we wanted, climbed on, went a couple of stops and then the voice came over the speaker saying that this train was terminating at Aldgate. (not where we wanted to stop). Rachel said, "Quick, get off!" and jumped out the door. I, however, was a bit slower and the doors started closing and we stared mutely at each other as I disappeared off into the darkness. I have no phone that works. I had to get off at the next station because it terminated there and I wandered around wondering what to do. I was strongly tempted to climb back on the train and get back to Rachel but I was pretty sure she would try to come to me. So I waited and another train came roaring in and I ran along trying to see Rachel when I she poked her head out and yelled, "Abby! Get in!" I did a beautiful flying leap into a completely different carriage with much grace and we both got off at our destination and laughed our heads off. I did feel for a while that we had lost each other in the bowels of the earth. It's not like there is just one train. They're all at different levels.

Since then we have developed a PLAN of ACTION if ever we are so stupid as to lose each other again. :)

The Tower of London was pretty cool and I've been in Westminster Abbey as well. That doesn't feel like a building that is about God. It's all about dead people. There are heaps of kings and queens from many years ago in great stone sarcophaguses (I know that's egyptian, but it sounds good) and statues of people like Wilberforce.

I have to admit London feels a bit depressing just because it is filled with people who seem so sad and grumpy. No different from the rest of the world I guess just all jam-packed into a small space. I begin to feel, more and more, a strong sense of compassion for people who are foreigners in different lands. Maybe this comes from being a foreigner, but I think things like Hebron House are incredibly important ways to look after people. (I have to say that I don't feel that like a foreigner in England...it's not like being in Tonga!)

I am going to York tomorrow for my birthday if we're not too exhausted from London. Then it's Holland on tuesday, I get back on Friday and then home on Sunday. It's gone pretty fast but I'm looking forward to getting back and doing some proper work. Hope you're all well, miss you.

written by  Abby Benton on February 3, 2008 from London, United Kingdom
from the travel blog: UK
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I have been enduring comments about sheep, the fact that we are part of Australia, and inferences to us being a 'warder' country because the warders of the convict colonies must have settled in NZ. I find I have to be slightly polite about English things, however, because I'm very outnumbered. It's also interesting to hear Rachel describing NZ things to her family. :)

Kathryn (Rachel's mum) was very interested in the way we eat Corned Silverside. Rachel had told her how much she enjoyed it because the McGrath's had cooked it in their crockpot the way we do. I was trying to describe it but was very difficult because they had no concept. Their corned beef only comes in tins. How is it made? (not how is it cooked, I know that)

Anyway, it's raining again today so I might go and read some more history books. Wishing you were all here to enjoy this with me.

written by  Abby Benton on January 21, 2008 from Worsthorne, United Kingdom
from the travel blog: UK
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I'm beginning to feel a big like the only NZer in the world. They tease me unmercifully, and I have only my slow wit to combat them all. The boys keep going on about NZ 'choking'in the world cup. This means, of course, that they lost when they were the favourites. I told them I didn't understand that expression. When asked what word we used for this, I said we didn't have one, as this is such an unusual occurence. I thought I was quite clever..:) Anyway, it made me wonder if we did have an expression...couldn't think of one.

We went to this beautiful little village called Hebden Bridge on friday.

Hebden Bridge...down the bottom of a deep valley

I've driven over the moors a couple of times now. It seems very wild and bleak and brooding...but it only lasts about 10 minutes and then we are in another settlement.

The word 'bleak' takes on more meaning. Typical farmhouse

We went to see a 13th Century church on friday as well. It was quite large and the floor of it was completely covered in old gravestones, laid horizontally.

Ruined church from the 1200's

We walked through the gatehouse into the outer court which is just a grassed area now.

Skipton Castle entrance

We climbed some more steps and entered the great hall. The fireplace was massive. You could easily fit an entire deer on a spit in it. Then we went through into the old kitchen and the fireplace was even larger. There's very little furniture of any kind left, but you can see things like the old ovens set into the wall on either side of one of the fireplaces and a shute for kitchen waste disappearing into the moat far below. Off the kitchen was the only privy we saw with a very cold hole going sraight down to the moat.

Inside new kitchen, Skipton Castle

There were a variety of narrow shafts for shooting arrows out of as well as a number of windows set into the wall. Most of these seemed to have been put in after the war, when the danger was over. The walls had been cut back in places so the windows were set back in the wall about 2 metres.

The town of Skipton itself was fascinating. It's an old market town and all the shops are really old. Nothing looks new. You walk along the cobbled street past dark grey stone stores and there are small alleyways every now and then with a sign over them saying 'something yard' and there is an open space beyond. I guess for horses.

I'm glad I'm not driving. Everyone seems to go really fast and the streets are very narrow. The intersections are confusing as well. It seems that the mediaeval town planners didn't make sure that all the streets met at neat 90 degree angles. People seem to think nothing of parking on the side of the road even if there is only half a metre from the edge of their parked car and the centre line! The traffic lights are different too. A flashing orange light means 'proceed with caution'. And the lights go from red to orange to green to give you a warning that it is changing.

written by  Abby Benton on January 18, 2008 from Skipton, United Kingdom
from the travel blog: UK
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