TRAVEL AND LIFESTYLE DIARIES

My acclimatization in the Netherlands was a love and hate engagement. There were times I cursed this country, f***ing Dutch! Other times, I display real admiration, I would even coddle in their ways. What I went through was just normal, and still going through, I think [eyebrows meeting each other]. Most expatriates that I know of, usually experiences this mother of all setbacks, “ homesickness and loneliness ”. In all honesty, I have never really suffered with these types of quandary. For almost 10 years, I lived on my own alone in the survival jungles of Manila’s Metropolis. I guess I have developed a hideous hide, a raw hide as thick as an alligator’s. This could be the reason why I barely got homesick and lonely. Hmm... There are things though that I kind of miss, nothing sentimental [that would not be me haha] and not on the league of homesickness [means you are sick, that is serious!], but still quite endearing to me and well some, shall I say, funny. The Ortigas view that I miss...

Dutchman and I had a spill over weekend and we went to Efteling  in Loon op Zand near Tilburg down south in North Brabant. Efteling is an attraction park just like Disneyland. The differences are: Efteling is the Dutch version (it is in Dutch of course and there is no Mickey Mouse), older in history (50+ years already, original concept of a sports park born in 1933) and perhaps not as large in size, although in my opinion it’s just enough for a day of fun and leisure. Moi in the Goblin’s little village. Python roller coaster. Frankly, I am not crazy about attraction or theme parks. I have always thought they’re best for family outings with kids. Well it took me three years to go to Efteling! I even had the chance to go to Euro Disney in Paris years ago when I first visited Europe, but it’s not my cup of tea. The Enchanted Kingdom in the Philippines I did visit after a month it opened, not because it was my choice, but we had a company outing there, haha. Just a quick pict...

I was in `s-Hertogenbosch [popularly known as Den Bosch by the Dutch] last Friday for an international job interview with a software applications company. The talk lasted almost two hours and I had the chance to chat with the COO himself. This isn’t really the first time I have been to Den Bosch. Two years ago, I visited the city for the same reason, a job interview, which didn’t materialize into anything. So this time, I promised to reward myself [just in case I dont get the job], a treat to explore the city’s old Centrum, something that I have never done in the past. City’s Nickname: INVINCIBLE DRAGON OF THE MARSHES The symbol of the city… the dragon monument located right in front of the train station. Den Bosch is a fortified city nestled in the midst of the north Brabant swampland [in the south of the Netherlands] and a Delta series of rivers, making the town invincible from any outside attack in the past. Because of this, the metropolis has earned the coveted title of “ The Inv...

The in laws are back in Italy for their second vacation leg this year. They usually spend four to five months every year hopping all over the country, experiencing how the locals live, sampling their cuisine, visiting quaint villages, and basking in the rich culture, art, history and the last rays of sun. So when they are away, it is the Dutchman’s task by default to conscientiously mow the grass in their backyard. I have no role there but Dutchman reminded me that his father told him I can harvest anything I want in his little greenhouse. So I took a peek and before me were ripe tomatoes and peppers! I also thought it would be nice to pick some flowers and plants to liven up our white and earthen abode. Clockwise from top, all the fresh produce and flowers, lovely plump tomatoes [vleestomaten], cherry tomatoes [or trostomaten?], and huge chili peppers. If I had known that we’re going tomato picking on a Sunday, I would have saved myself the effort and money from buying some last Satur...

I have been reading an old rap editorial of Youp van’t Hek, a roguish Dutch columnist who writes for the NRC Handelsblad [a Dutch newspaper]. This editorial collection, written between 1993 and 1994, are zipped in a thin paperback. It was given to me by Dutchman when I protested -- “I must start reading Dutch books!” [insert frustrated look here]. Thankfully, he had taste and knew exactly how to amuse me, lol. This author proved to be a winner, a real entertainment albeit sardonic in his views, which makes him a very good read. AMAH HOELA, one of his old columns, which incidentally is also the title of the book, is our read for today. An amah means “Au Pair” and in other words, “Nanny”. Therefore I am guessing, Hoela is a name of a person, and in most cases, a woman. Before I go on writing this entry, I would like to give my excuses to the Au Pair community, their loved ones, or whoever related who might be reading this entry and may find it offensive. This has nothing to do with you (...

I have been sinning gratuitously in the last two days. I couldn’t control myself and indulged in my feral addiction. I gorged 3 dried sausages! The Spanish Fuet, Italian Cacciatore and Spianata Romana all went down to my greedy stomach. If you are familiar with European cured and dried sausages, I am sure you will say its too much. I know it’s insanely blasphemous to my so-called living a healthy lifestyle. Such a shame, I am a weak human being, flaws and all, destined to trap and fall. The Spanish Fuet [the small oblong cuts], Italian Cacciatore [the round cuts] and Spianata Romana [the large square cuts] cured and dried sausages. Don’t be fooled, the photo only showed a little part of the total servings I ate. I think I ate six or more servings of these in just a matter of two days. *Cry* Well, after eating all those and having my fill, I woke up today feeling sick and groggy. The culprit must have been all those pork fats swimming now inside my intestines. I guess my worms are no...

Founded by the Romans in 50 A.D. by the Rhine river banks, the city of Colonia is definitely Germany’s oldest thriving and 4th largest. There is a German adage popularized by the Romans during the earlier times, “ You haven’t been to Germany if you haven’t seen Cologne ”. Today, the metropolis is the home to close to one million inhabitants. It has its own special dialect called Kolsch and is still proud to hold the Roman Catholic seat of Germany. This is one of the three Roman Tower remains left in the city located right in front of the Dome cathedral entrance. That’s the great Rhine river and the Hohenzollern bridge on the second photo. I am actually here to meet my cousin from the Philippines who is on her European tour. We are staying in Cologne for a few days afterwhich I will bring her with me back to the Netherlands. She wants to see Amsterdam. Cologne’s Pride and Insignia: St. Peter’s Dome Cathedral One can just gaze at its magnificence and be amazed at how intricate and luxuri...

My feet are both aching ever so terribly! I have survived a full 3 days non stop cobbled road walk-a-thon. The horrible truth: sightseeing in most city centers [Centrums] in Europe is only possible by foot. This time, the Omega pain killer, a mentholated liniment, really did justice to me. Stay tuned for my next entry, City spotting: Cologne [ Köln ], Germany Tonight, we had a nice salad treat for our Chicken Shoarmas... Spinach Salad Lekker! Yummy! Ingredients: Fresh spinach , iceberg lettuce, tomatoes, cucumber, pine nuts, olives, dash of 4 seasons pepper, extra virgin olive oil, and parmesan cheese [best option is the thinly sliced not the powder].

I finally did it! My arms, not my butt, are suffering from muscle pain as we speak because I fell down a couple of times [I think 3x] from yesterday’s test run. I should enlarge this foto and frame it. Don’t you think? That’s my instructor who was very patient with me. The first trial lesson was surprisingly easy. I had a good “ feel ” of the thick ski blades and those sturdy monster ski boots locking my feet. I learned how to glide down and how to move my hands up on the air down to my knees. The instructor also taught me how to slow down and brake by using the wide “ V ” method and also by slightly jumping off. Another thing I learned is how to glide and curve. You know, those nice choreographed ski stunts we see on TV with professional skiers parading down the slope in a “ to-the-left ” and “ to-the-right ” rhythm... ah, wish I can do that soon. The technique was bending the knee which I enthusiastically tried but this 35 year old bone coupled with my less daring stamina spells a ...