Vampyre Hunting and other adventures

Ah Amsterdam. I have only been here a few days but I could quite easily stay here for weeks. It has the feel of somewhere in Italy or Spain but the great thing is that they speak English. There is very much a laid back feel to the place, probably because most people ride bicycles, but even the car drivers don't seen to be in a huge hurry.
There are plenty of canalside cafes, bars and restaurants and although the place is packed with tourists, it is also possible to not have to go too far before finding yourself in a much quieter area. Yesterday I sat in Dam Square, the main central square, and drank a coffee while watching everyone go by - very nice.
Visited the Stedijk Museum yesterday, or what at least what they are currently showing. They are renovating the orignal building, like they are with the Rijksmuseum as well, and are in a couple of floors of a tower block near the station. They only really had modern stuff in there, but it was quite interesting. There were a couple of videos which had been filmed in London, and I recognised the areas instantly, one due to a pub.
Have also visited the Anne Frank House which was very moving. I'm not claustrophobic, or the type to believe that buildings can soak up emotions, but as soon as I walked behind the moving bookcase and up the narrow stairway into the 'Annexe', an odd impression of the fear and unknowing of what was going to happen, crept over me. It is amazing what is possible in the pursuit of just staying alive.
When I came out I sat by the canal for a few moments, a tear in my eye, and recovered. It was luck I had my sunglasses on so none of the schoolchildren around me could see!
Got chatting to a couple of guys from the French Alps, apparantly it is cold most of the year, one of them was a postman. Also met a group of Danish girls in the bar the other night who were on a school trip. They're probably what we would call sixth formers. I would have given my eye teeth to come to Amsterdam at that age, as I'm sure would most of my fellow classmates. The odd thing was that they were even given a choice as to where they wanted to go and Amsterdam came in at three. Dublin was second, which you may think normal, but Scotland was first! Mad. The only reason they came here was because it was cheaper to get to than the other two. They also burst into song a couple of times at the sound of a Danish eurovision song. I can't imagine any english schoolgirls singing along with Love Shine a Light.
Weather here is glorious, which probably makes the place seem even better and still so much more here to see. Maybe I'll just go and have a nice coffee somewhere instead.

The title is a little harsh I have to say, but you may understand if you know your song titles and if you realise that I am in Rotterdam. My original intention was to go straight to Amsterdam on my arrival in Holland, however the boat was late leaving and even later getting in, so not wanting to get there really late, I decided to stay in Rotterdam for a few days.
It is quite a nice place, although large amounts of it remind me a little of Holloway Road, or Kentish Town in London. Lots of asian run shops selling fruit and veg, with people hanging around outside. I have also seen plenty of 'coffeshops
all over the place, with names like SkyHigh, and Pluto but you can usually smell them before you see them! There is also a large more upmarket shopping area which could actually be anywhere as most of the shops are what you would see in the UK, apart from C&A which is still going here, and there are McDonalds and Burger Kings everywhere!
However the nicest part is by the River Maas which is huge, much wider than the Thames. There is also the harbour which contains many modern yachts as well as more old fashioned rigged sail boats. I imagine that some are avaliable for hiring.
There are plenty of what you would consider Dutch looking houses here, and everywhere you can find stalls selling real potato fries which come with huge dollops of mayonnaise which they call fritesauce, as if you wouldn't use it with anything else. It is quite tasty though and I think I prefer it with mayonnaise that I do with ketchup.
The Van Bomerins museum is very interesting, containing several excellent works of art, including Breughals Tower of Babel, along with some Rembrandt van Rijns, Dali's, a couple of Rodin's, a Monet, a Canaletto, a Titian (not as good as Bacchus & Ariadne), Tintoretto along with some good modern art. There was a great chalk drawing of Ophelia at Night by Iris van ? which was lovely.
I also visited the Maritime Museum and learned that Rotterdam was original famous for its herring industry until they were overfished. They also held some maps made by the Dutch East India company which had been found in Corpus Christie in Oxford - I don't know how we let them have them back! Ha ha.
Another pretty part is Delfshaven, just outside Rotterdam itself which was the former port of Delft, and the location from which the Pilgrim Fathers sailed to England before picking up the Mayflower. It also has a working windmill where they seemed to be selling either bread or flour (as far as I could tell from the Dutch)!
Haven't really been out much as there isn't really anywhere you feel comfortable going as a tourist, especially on your own. I have had a couple of beers in the hostel bar though, and the other night I watched the Holland Romania game with a bunch of Romanians who have come out here to work. It was a bit like something out of Auf Wiedersehn Pet. Rubbish game though.
Any of you who read the last blog will know that I gave out three songs at the end of each week to tie in with the events that have taken place. Being a traditionalist and not being able to think of anything different, I will do so again. So tying in this and Dublin, here goes.

I Drove All Night - Roy Orbison
Toss The Feathers - The Corrs
Rotterdam - The Beautiful South

This blog will be charting my journey across Eastern Europe will will start on 22 March, however I was in Dublin last weekend and I couldn't resist using it as a prologue to this trip.
I travelled there with my friend who's birthday happens to be 17 March, so what better way to celebrate it but in the emerald isle itself. We stayed overnight at his parents on the Friday, then left Reading at 4.15am in order to get the ferry from Holyhead. It was still dark and the dawn only arrived as we neared Birmingham. As I looked at the now brightening landscape around me of gashes of tarmac through the countryside and fields of street lights blocking out the stars above I couldn't help feeling that it was such a shame what had become of the natural beauty of our country. I know that it could never possibly be restored to its original state, a state which I've never known myself - but I suppose this is progress.
We continued north and passed through some small villages near Chester. Worringly I saw signposts for firstly Poole, and then for Stamford Bridge before realising it wasn't the football ground but just battlesite. Not long after and we had passed into Wales, signified not only by the unreadable signs but also by the roadside cafe's sporting red dragons. Arrived in Holyhead at 8.15 and you could tell that you were in Wales, grey skies, grey stone buildings and a sense that you were in the middle of nowhere.
We were ushered onto the ferry by men in green hats (not at all touristy) and looked for the deck. Unfortunately it was one of those new catamarans, and there was no deck. However I still looked at of the windows as the rugged and rainswept coastline receded into the distance and suddenly there was nothing around but water.
My friend took a nap and within two hours we had come within my first sight of the Irish coast. Dun Laoghaire harbour protruded into the sea and to the right were the masts of yachts which I later found out belonged to the Royal St George club. Its nice to see there's still a little bit of England left here!
We were met by my friends sister and took the windy coastal path to her flat. I saw a man skimming stones while his dogs swam in the sea, then later two people swimming. They must have been mad. At this point I was looking forward to a shower and sinking some Guinness, however unbeknownst to me something different had been organised - an expedition amongst the Wicklow Mountains! I didn't really have much choice in the matter but most annoying was the fact that I had clothed myself for time in the pub, flat shoes and a thin shirt. At least I had a waterproof jacket.
Anyway, we went down to Bray, south of Dublin, which reminded me a little of something across between Brean (north of Weston Super Mare) and Scarborough. There was a funfair on the promenade to celebrate St Patricks Day, and people were walking around with green hats and shamrocks stencilled onto their cheeks. The girls were wearing green tights and I noticed that a lot of twenty something girls were alone with their mothers.
The first peak at the south of Bray beach had a huge cross on it, and we ascended this hill for views out into the Irish sea and back inland towards the Wicklow mountains. We walked along near the windy and weatherbeaten coast until we were in sight of Greystones. Then we headed back inland and towards another peak. To get there we had to climb over barbed wire fences, locate paths through gorse fields and then ascended the peak which was made up of a jigsaw of loose rocks, much like a giant dry-stone wall. I slid and slipped my way up in my totally incorrect shoes, before almost being blown off by the strong winds at the top.
Finally got to have some Guinness back in Bray, at a Porterhouse, like the one in Maiden Lane, London, and it was the best pint off the stuff I'd ever had! I had to wait the customary half hour for it to be pulled, meanwhile I picked up the rugby results from an Irish girl at the bar, who seemed to find my optomism over Englands chances amusing. We were losing to Wales at the time though.
We sat outside, despite the weather, and listened to some Irish reels being played by some guitarists and fiddlers and for the first time it felt like I was in Ireland.
The next day I was able to get to Dublin itself for the first time, passing Lansdowne Road on the way which is still intact. I was surprised at the small size of the Liffey as we walked alongside, it is about half the size of the Thames, and it was even windier which I didn't think was possible. As we passed James Joyce House I smelt the brewery for the first time, and soon it came into sight with its chimneys belching out. We were heading for the jail where the leaders of the Easter rising were executed, which has actually been closed since 1924. It was a very interesting tour, and gives a good taste of the political history of the country as it held only political prisoners towards the end of its life.
It was very cold and dark and the size of the cells were about the same as that of the Ottawa Jail Hostel. The only difference being that these cells supposedly held one inmate only, whereas the Ottawa one held six hostellers in bunk beds. Theres something wrong there I'm sure!
The new wing has also been used more recently for music videos and films. Michael Collins and In The Name Of The Father were filmed here, and I recognised instantly that it was also used for the original The Italian Job.
Back out and this time we wandered briefly through the cobbled streets of the Temple Bar area full of pubs and gift shops, though we didn't stop for a pint, before heading back to Dun Laoghaire for the return ferry. Unfortunately the weather conditions dictated that our ferry had been cancelled and we had to make our way back across town to Dublin port in order to get a ferry there. Here we had a real taste of Ireland.
On enquiring of where we could get a bus to the port we were told that because the ferry's had been cancelled the bus had also been cancelled, but there was still a ferry and that we should hurry to get there. Eh? No ferry, no bus, but there's a ferry! We took a taxi to find the driver listen to a Christy Moore tape. What can you say!
Despite the fact that everyone wanting to get out of Dublin wanted the same ferry, we managed to get on and returned to Holyhead at 1am and got to London at 5.30am - knackered!! On the way back we hit sleet which came at us like the starfield screen saver.
I will have to go back to Dublin again to see it properly and get more of a taste of the Craic, but now it's eastwards only. Rather fittingly my friends sister had a copy of Dracula in her bookcase (at least that's the only way I can think of tying this part of the blog to the rest of it).
I just wonder where I'll be on 3 May - Bistritz perhaps?